Sermon 4/3/2021 “Are you looking up?”

Sermon 4/3/2021 “Are you looking up?”

Preacher: Jo J. Belser
Location: Church of the Resurrection, 2800 Hope Way, Alexandria, VA
Text: Mark 16:1-8
Day: Easter Vigil 2021

Our first service in our new church building, the Great Vigil of Easter, 2021, in a pandemic

I admire these three people we hear about in our gospel lesson today: Mary Magdalene, Mary mother of James, and Salome. These three are like the people who fill Church of the Resurrection, the doers, the ones who get up and go do whatever needs to be done—even those difficult and heartbreaking tasks.

In fact, these three people remind me of the three members of our church who led us throughout eight years of hard work, doing all that was needed to discern and carry out a mission and create a new reality. Look around, see what three people can lead a whole lot of others (have led US) to accomplish by setting out resolutely and dealing in faith with every eventuality they encounter.

The three people in our gospel lesson got up early, as soon as Sabbath was over, as soon as the Law allowed, and they set out to anoint Jesus’ dead body. Can you imagine how they might have felt when they set out?

  • Tired from their lack of good sleep since Jesus’ execution.
  • Heart-broken that the one they loved, Jesus the Messiah, was dead.
  • Discouraged about what to do next with their lives, except the next needed thing, which was to anoint Jesus’ dead body.

I love that these three people set out on an impossible task. They KNEW that, without help, they couldn’t even get into Jesus’ tomb. Yet still they set out, trusting that somehow God would provide. Notice that, even as they went to the tomb, they wondered WHO, not WHETHER the stone would be rolled away.

Let’s freeze the story right there for a moment. I want to ask you: isn’t this stone familiar to us? Mid-eastern tomb stones are big and heavy—too heavy for these three women, even three “can do” women, to deal with.

Beyond its physical appearance, this stone is remarkably familiar in another way. If the stone represents impediments to our ability to approach the risen Christ, what might the stone be for us today? When I last preached the gist of this sermon in 2015, the things I imagined as tombstones were:

  • A world so polarized by conflicting values and priorities that we’ve lost the ability to work together as a country.
  • Fear of sudden and senseless death at the hands of religious zealots or even people who are just mentally ill.
  • Our anger at the physical deterioration that aging brings, or the despair at loss of a job, or the collapse of a marriage, or even doubt about what we will find in Jesus’ tomb.

In 2015 I didn’t have the foresight to imagine a stone made of a global pandemic. What other new tombstones have arisen in the past six years? The metaphorical tombstones that top my list are:

  • Loss of the foundation of truth to undergird our civil discourse.
  • Rampant greed.
  • Fear of the loss of power.
  • Exposure of deeply embedded racism at the very core of our history as a country, a sin whose effects endure to this day.

What stone do you worry about tonight, as we bear our meager spices and heavy hearts and hurry to get to Jesus’ tomb?

Mary Magdalene, Mary mother of James, and Salome show us how to deal with the heavy stones that bar our way to Jesus. Our gospel lesson says, “Whey they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back.” Well, that’s what the English translation says. The Greek word is ἀναβλέπω, which can mean “to look up.” However, if we notice when and how Mark uses this word in his gospel, we see that Mark means ἀναβλέπω in another way, as well.

  • Jesus “looked up to heaven” before he broke five loaves of bread and fed 5,000 people;
  • Jesus “looked up” as he prepared to heal a man of deafness; and
  • Jesus healed a blind beggar named Bartimaeus after he told Jesus he wanted to be able to “ἀναβλέπω,” not to “see again” as some translations say, but to “look up, to believe in and pray to God.”

The implication is clear. To Mark, ἀναβλέπω isn’t something we Christ-followers do only with our eyes. “Looking up” involves actively turning to God for help. When these three women “looked up” in this way, this was when they noticed that God had already acted, that the heavy stone had already been dealt with.

This is a familiar thing, not just of Mark’s gospel, but of all of scripture. When Moses objected that he wasn’t a gifted enough speaker to lead his people, for example, God told him that he had ALREADY sent Aaron, his brother, to be his spokesman.

On this first Easter Sunday, God had already taken care of the stone when the women finally ἀναβλέπω-ed. When the women entered Jesus’ tomb, though, the found a surprise. THEY expected to find a dead body to anoint. Knowing this story, WE expect them to find an empty tomb. Instead, there was a young man inside dressed in white, with an explanation and instructions.

The explanation was this: Jesus of Nazareth had “been raised,” whatever THAT meant. The instructions were to: Return to Galilee, where Jesus already is; you will see him there. In other words, go home, go about your usual business, but there you will discover that you can access the Risen Jesus whenever you “look up.”

Mark tells us that the three women fled from the tomb in terror and amazement and told no one. This is a very clever ending. We are supposed to deduce that these women must have told SOMEONE of their experience. Otherwise, how would we know this story today? The implication is clear here, too: WE must tell others this story, and teach them to ἀναβλέπω.

I know that no amount of urging on my part can cause you to tell others this story. That’ll be between you and God. But maybe you will try a little ἀναβλέπω. See, when the three women ran from the tomb in fear and amazement, that big stone was still right there. The stone hadn’t been moved far; it hadn’t been destroyed. Instead, the stone had been moved just enough that the women were able to get around it, in and out of Jesus’ empty tomb as they most certainly brought others and told them what had happened.

I know what these women must have said, too. They must have proclaimed the very thing that we at Church of the Resurrection in this new place must proclaim. Looking up, we say:

Alleluia, Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed, alleluia!

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