The foundation of all that goes before
Commentary
"According to all I've studied, the essential belief in Christianity is the virgin birth. That's why Christmas is such a big deal."
My discussion with my music teacher had turned to religion, and being the 1970s sort of high school student that I was, I protested.
"No," I said to his shock, "the central belief in Christianity is the resurrection of Jesus. It's Easter, not Christmas. The important thing is not how he was born, but that he is still alive."
Thirty years later, I haven't changed my mind (even though I am now the teacher that kids smart back to). Sometimes the final position is emphatic, and that is certainly true in regards to the life of Jesus. While the virgin birth receives scant coverage in the New Testament, the resurrection breathes through the pores of every page. It was so important to Paul, Luke, John, and the rest for the same reason it is still important today: If Christ has been raised, we can know him in a way that is different from every other figure of the past. He is still alive!
Acts 10:34-43
The Cornelius episode is a turning point in Acts, marking the mission to the Gentiles, as initiated by the foremost of apostles, Peter (Acts 10:1--11:18). Cornelius, a pious man, probably a "godfearer" or hanger-on at the synagogue, is described as a centurion who gave alms and prayed constantly (10:1-2). Cornelius is told in a vision to send for Peter, who is having a vision of his own concerning clean and unclean foods (10:3-16). When Peter comes to Cornelius and hears his story, he realizes that his vision was symbolic: the issue was more than table fare; it denoted the inclusion of Gentiles in the infant Church (10:17-33). This leads to Peter's last great missionary speech (our lection), which is interrupted when the Holy Spirit falls on Cornelius and his companion, thus proving the point (10:44-48). When Peter is called to defend his visitation to the Gentiles (11:1-18), his story convinces his hearers that "God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life" (11:18).
The pattern of movement in the narrative is from story to conviction. Peter's hearing of Cornelius helps him see the light dawn on his own experience: "Now I understand," he says (10:34). His recounting of the story to his detractors in turn changes their minds about what God is up to (a similar movement is found in chapter 15). It is the triumph of narrative theology: telling the story transform minds. No one can deny the presence of the Holy Spirit among these Gentiles.
The missionary speech follows a pattern common to Acts. This one is addressed to Gentiles, not Jews (and thus while it mentions the prophets in v. 43, it does not actually cite any of them). With this speech, the mission to the Gentiles is formally inaugurated. The speech also summarizes a number of Lukan themes: the fulfillment of prophecy (v. 43), the geographical movement from Galilee to Jerusalem (v. 37), the starting point in John's baptism (v. 37), the emphasis on healings that overturn the devil's kingdom (v. 38), the presence of the Spirit with Jesus (v. 38), his rejection by the Jewish leadership (v. 39), his resurrection appearances to witnesses (vv. 40-41), and the commission to the witnesses to preach forgiveness of sins in his name (v. 43).
The seeming interjection, "He is Lord of all," underscores the creedal content of this speech (v. 36). Jesus as Lord is judge of all, but also the one who brings forgiveness of sins and messianic peace (vv. 42-43, 36). He comes from a God who is no respecter of persons -- God does not "show partiality," an expression which means literally to "lift up the face" of a supplicant who has bowed before him -- for no supplicant counts more than another (v. 34). Instead, God is open to any "godfearer" who is willing to do what is right; all such people, Jew or Gentile, receive actual acceptance by God (v. 35). This God has been revealed in one of the people of Israel, Jesus, "for God was with him" (vv. 36-37). Jesus' life is recounted in outline, beginning in Galilee and spreading to Judea and Jerusalem, from the baptism of John (with allusions to the temptation, v. 38) and his anointing with the Spirit and power, through his works of healing, and his death by hanging on a tree (v. 39, an allusion to the curse text of Deuteronomy 21:23). His appearances after his death to a number of witnesses (including, but not limited to, the Eleven, cf. Luke 24:33) serve as proof that God raised him on the third day (vv. 40-41). He continues to be present among them in the Spirit, which will soon descend on Cornelius to prove that God has taken a new turn (vv. 44-48).
The final creedal element concerns these disciples who were not only witnesses to the historical Jesus, but the risen Christ (vv. 40-42). These witnesses were commanded to preach and testify to Jesus as Lord, the judge of the living and dead, and the means of forgiveness to all who believe (vv. 36, 42-43). This Peter does to Cornelius with great success.
1 Corinthians 15:19-26
Chapter 15 is the final major section of 1 Corinthians, and as so often in ancient literature, the final position is the most emphatic. The resurrection is the foundation of everything that Paul has had to say so far, "of first importance" (15:3). It is the heart of the gospel, and thus has a bearing on all that precedes in the letter. Paul's hard and sometimes shocking language reinforces the subject's importance (cf. 15:2, 4, 17, 33-34, 36).
It seems that some in the Corinthian church "say that there is no resurrection of the dead" (15:12). As Paul notes, it is hard to understand how a Christian could deny resurrection, but the Corinthians as Gentiles may have found the notion of resurrection a foreign idea (as indeed did some Jews). Among several possibilities: they may have seen the resurrection of Jesus as an isolated and unusual event. They may have thought that only Christians alive when Christ returned would form the kingdom (cf. 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18). Most scholars see a kind of realized eschatology at work in Corinth, a spiritualized view of resurrection that said, "We have already been raised to new life" (cf. 1 Corinthians 4:8-11). A good Greek would deny that the resuscitation of corpses made sense, believing that the rational soul could be freed from the messiness of the body. Whatever the exact nature of the heterodoxy in Corinth, Paul's claim is that there is in fact a general resurrection, it will involve bodies of some sort, and it will happen in the future. The model of Christ demands it.
The movement of Paul's argument is from the greater to the lesser: Christ is the harbinger of a general resurrection. That Christ has been raised is the common foundation, without which Christianity would be nonsense (15:1-19). If Christ has not been raised, Paul says with no exaggeration, we who have placed hope in a dead man "are of all people most to be pitied" (v. 19). But Christ has in fact been raised as "first fruits" (v. 20). His allusion is to the ancient rule about the offering of the first installment of a crop, which foreshadowed and pledged the ultimate gift of the whole (cf. Exodus 23:19; Leviticus 23:10-11). Christ is thus the beginning of a much greater harvest of souls, a promise and guarantee. There is a direct connection between the resurrection of Jesus and that of all future Christians. Thus we are not pitiable but promised people.
In a double typology, Paul contrasts those who live in Christ and in Adam (vv. 21-23). Adam symbolizes those caught in death, but Christ represents those who live. A military metaphor is mixed with apocalyptic language that borders on doxology: there will be order in God's eschatological framework, for Christ will come as first fruits, then at his coming those who belong to him, and then the end, when he destroys the cosmic powers and put his enemies under his feet (vv. 23-25, cf. Psalm 110:1). The last enemy to be destroyed is death; the destruction of death is enabled by the resurrection harvest, since we all will live in Christ (v. 26). The victorious Christ thus will hand the kingdom over to the Father (v. 24).
John 20:1-18
John's empty tomb narrative is coupled with a resurrection appearance to Mary. The material is similar to but quite different from the Synoptic accounts, and many scholars think that John and the Synoptics shared a common source. John structures his narrative in two episodes, with the visit of Mary, Peter, and the Beloved Disciple resulting in misunderstanding (20:1-10), and the encounter between Mary and Jesus moving from misunderstanding to belief (20:11-18).
John does not specify why Mary went to the tomb (the body has already been prepared for burial, 19:38-42). Nor does he picture any other women with her (unlike the Synoptics). John has Mary visit while it is still dark (20:1), a symbolic detail if there ever was one, for only gradually will light dawn. Mary finds the stone, rolled away from the small entrance to the horizontal cave, and does not go inside before reporting to Simon Peter and the Beloved Disciple that "they have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him" (v. 2). Her use of the plural reflects the state of knowledge of the entire community, who do not yet understand what has happened to Jesus. Grave robbery was the logical conclusion, but Jesus will not fit into the usual categories of logic; only he will be able to answer the question about where he is (v. 16).
The exact location of Jesus is a recurring question in this section (cf. vv. 13, 15). It's a twist on a question that permeates the Gospel but is barely understood by the characters who pose it. The first disciples ask, "Where are you staying?" (1:38), but do not realize the implications of their question. Knowing where Jesus is correlates with the related question, where he comes from (3:1-10; 4:9; 6:51, 60-66; 7:32-36, 45-52; 8:14, 21-23). John's prologue answers the question: the Word was with God, and was God, and became flesh (1:1-18). Knowing where Jesus is, where he comes from, and where he is going -- he is with the Father, comes from the Father, and goes to the Father -- is essentially the same as knowing who he is (1:1, 14; 13:1; 14:10-11; 14:12; 16:27; 17:3, 11).
Peter and the Beloved Disciple visit the tomb in light of Mary's report. Much ink has been spilt on the significance of their footrace; perhaps John meant to portray the Beloved Disciple as the first to believe in the risen Jesus, but verse 8 may mean only that he believed Mary's report that the body had been stolen, since by the end of the episode, both return home empty of understanding (vv. 9-10). A sharp eye would have put the lie to the grave robbery supposition, for grave robbers would have taken the burial clothes with the body, and not have paused to roll them up neatly (vv. 6-7). Though it is light by now (they can see inside the cave), these two disciples have not yet been illuminated, and so leave the stage for Mary to meet the gardener.
Mary, whose weeping was foretold by Jesus (16:20-22), must first run the gauntlet of two angels in white, hovering over the tomb like the cherubs of the Ark of the Covenant (v. 12). Their question assumes that there is no real reason to weep (v. 13), but Mary can give the mystery of the empty tomb only a human logic; her repetition of her observation is rendered this time in the more personal "I" of grief: "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him" (v. 13). She turns, sees, but does not recognize Jesus, because she does not have the eyes of faith. Jesus repeats not only the question of the angels, "Woman, why are you weeping?" but also his original question to his disciples, indeed the question to every disciple, "Whom are you looking for?" (v. 15, cf. 1:38). That she takes him for the gardener underscores her ignorance of who Jesus really is; the narrative embodies the ignorance that for John is the same as unbelief.
The cure for unbelief is to have the Shepherd call you by name (v. 16, cf. 10:3-4). Once Mary hears Jesus' voice, she realizes how wrong she was to give a conventional explanation to the disappearance of one who breaks down all the usual categories of this world. She now sees him for who he is, "Rabbouni" (an Aramaic variation on "Rabbi"). The command in verse 17, "Do not hold on to me," could be taken either as a prohibition of what has already happened ("Stop holding me," cf. Matthew 28:9), or of intention ("Do not grasp me"). The command is puzzling, since Jesus otherwise has no qualms about the disciples touching his resurrected body (20:27). Even more puzzling is the reason given for not touching Jesus at this time: "because I have not yet ascended to the Father." It is perhaps best to see this dialogue aimed more at the reader than at the story's characters. Jesus' "hour" of glorification, the entire movement from death to resurrection to ascension, is in God's view one moment of time, so that normal narrative and temporal patterns are in flux. Jesus is not yet ascended to the Father, because the entire process, while begun, is not complete. Mary cannot "hold" or "grasp" Jesus in this moment, because the very notion is ungraspable. To attempt to hold on to Jesus at this moment would be to interfere with the ongoing process, which must be brought to fruition if all the disciples are to understand. Ironically, they must come to understand that which cannot be completely understood by mere humans. Such understanding is experiential rather than intellectual; Jesus' resurrection will initiate a new relationship between the disciples and God, as he ascends "to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God" (v. 17).
Luke 24:1-12
Luke's empty tomb narrative continues seamlessly his passion narrative. The women who watched the crucifixion at a distance saw the burial of Jesus by Joseph of Arimathea, prepared the spices and ointments for his body, and then returned to their homes to observe the sabbath (23:49-56). They became the first witnesses of Jesus' resurrection (24:9).
Who were these women? Three are named at the end of the story, but there were more: "Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women" (v. 10). According to Luke, it was women who did the logistical support for Jesus' ministry (8:2-3). They become the first human witnesses to the Resurrection when they find the wheel-stone rolled away from the tomb and go in to find no body. The sight leaves them "perplexed," because the fact of the empty tomb needs interpretation, which is provided by two men in dazzling clothes (v. 4). The men, later said to be angels (v. 23), are the two witnesses required by Jewish law. In the standard pattern of a theophany, the women cower in fear and humility before they receive their commission. The angels testify to Jesus' resurrection: "Why do you look for the living among the dead?" (v. 5). Their commission to the women is not to "Go, tell" as in the other Synoptics, but simply to remember: "Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again" (vv. 6-7). That they are told to "remember" is further proof that they were there to hear Jesus' words in the first place; Luke pictures these women as disciples in their own rights.
As we have already seen in the book of Acts, remembrance is of crucial importance to Luke, since one who remembers can retell the story so as to learn its significance. In this case, however, the events themselves cannot be understood without further interpretation. The male disciples, with no little chauvinism, do not believe the women, thinking their words an idle tale (v. 11). They will need Jesus' own interpretation in order to understand (cf. 24:32, 45). Only later will they get what came so quickly to the women, when Jesus himself opens the scriptures to them in what will be the greatest Bible study in the history of the world (24:44-49).
Thus Luke prepares for the continuation of his story in his second volume, the book of Acts. Unlike the other Synoptics, Luke has no promise of a Galilean appearance; the focus stays in Jerusalem, the center of Luke's story. It is in Jerusalem that the disciples will become witnesses to the risen Jesus, an essential requirement for being numbered an apostle (cf. Acts 1:22). Our lection concludes with the enigmatic story of Peter running all alone to confirm the women's story (v. 12 is omitted by some manuscripts, but it seems a natural antecedent to v. 24, and there is no good reason to reject it). His experience leaves him much like the women were at first, "amazed at what had happened," but he will have to wait for full understanding (and his own encounter with the risen Jesus).
Application
"On the day when I can no longer believe in the Resurrection, I shall no longer be able to follow Christ. It's not that I require a reward after death; it's just that I refuse to have a dead guy running my life" (Garret Keizer in The Christian Century, May 17, 2003, 9). The resurrection of Christ is still a crucial part of the Christian creed, the foundation of all that goes before and after. This is no abstraction, because a risen Christ is by definition still alive -- in the stories about him that we continue to remember, tell, and reinterpret for one another, in the leading of his Spirit, personally and communally, in the bread and wine that is his body and blood, in the faces of those around us, believers and unbelievers alike -- if only we have the eyes to see him!
To paraphrase Paul: If Christ has not been raised, we might as well bag it and go home. But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, and I've got the stories, the communities, and the sacraments to prove it. I'll grant you that's not the proof of a mathematical equation or a scientific hypothesis, but standing before the mystery of the universe, how much proof do you need?
Alternative Applications
1) 1 Corinthians 15:19-26. Christ as "first fruits" implies that resurrection is always connected with real life. It is not an abstraction, but something we participate in from the very beginning. The Corinthians' mistake was not to think that the risen Christ was relevant to the here and now, but to limit resurrection to the present. In fact, if Paul is right, we have something to look forward to.
2) Acts 10:34-43. Ethics and resurrection go hand in hand. As with Paul, Luke thought the resurrection of Jesus had a connection with real life. Luke is clear that faith has an ethical component: "In every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him" (v. 35). In Christian thought, ethics are enabled by resurrection. Only through resurrection is the Spirit of Jesus distributed to all believers. During his life, the presence of Jesus was limited physically; he could only be with so many disciples at one time. Thanks to his resurrection, he has now sent the Spirit to be with all of us. The new presence of Jesus is mediated to us in a brand new way, through the Spirit. This is the essence of the story Luke tells in Acts, where people like Peter are changed from cowardly deniers to fearless witnesses of Jesus.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24
The climactic verse in the Easter reading of Psalm 118 (v. 24) can easily serve as an appropriate anthem for celebrating the goodness of God on any given day. Every day is the day that the Lord has made. But there is poignancy in using this verse in reference to the day we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. It would be effective to construct a sermon around verse 24 using the rhythm of the litany already established by the verses leading up to it.
The Resurrection was not an afterthought, or a "plan B." God had it in mind all along. Death would be defeated once for all in our lives by raising Jesus from the dead. This is the day God made to accomplish this incredible act -- let us rejoice in it and be glad.
The sorrow that follows on the heels of all our losses, the lonely separation from loved ones by death, is certainly one of the most difficult burdens we bear. But because of God's gift of eternal life demonstrated powerfully by raising Jesus from the dead, we are not doomed to carry the burden of loss without hope. We can find comfort in the knowledge that we will see our loved ones again. This is the day the Lord has created for this great purpose -- let us rejoice in it and be glad.
Of course death is not only about the loss of life. People in our world daily face the death of their dreams. It may take the form of the loss of a home or career. It may come as a divorce or a debilitating illness or injury. Suddenly, without warning, the world we thought we knew turns on us and we are laid bare with distress.
But God has unleashed a powerful principle of renewal in our world. God can take what is dead and breathe new life into it. He can take shattered dreams and lost hopes and make them alive again. We can experience resurrection in our hearts and in our minds as God works with us to creatively find ways around and through our disappointments. Just when we think the world has ended, God makes a new world. And this is the day the Lord has made where that sort of renewal of life can happen -- let us rejoice in it and be glad.
More often than not, it is the daily grind that robs us of our joy, fills us with boredom, and tempts us to apathy. It is the mind-numbing routines that mark our days and sap our energy that we come to resent. Without any specific event, no particular tragedy, we yet find ourselves grieving a life that is not snatched away, but rather slips away. We stand looking back over 20, 30, or 50 years and wonder where the time went.
But there is a cure for this malaise. It is the recognition that God has chosen to infuse life with a constant source of newness. We can, if we choose to, live in the light of a new day every day. And this is that day that the Lord has made for us to live in. Today, let us rejoice in it and be glad.
My discussion with my music teacher had turned to religion, and being the 1970s sort of high school student that I was, I protested.
"No," I said to his shock, "the central belief in Christianity is the resurrection of Jesus. It's Easter, not Christmas. The important thing is not how he was born, but that he is still alive."
Thirty years later, I haven't changed my mind (even though I am now the teacher that kids smart back to). Sometimes the final position is emphatic, and that is certainly true in regards to the life of Jesus. While the virgin birth receives scant coverage in the New Testament, the resurrection breathes through the pores of every page. It was so important to Paul, Luke, John, and the rest for the same reason it is still important today: If Christ has been raised, we can know him in a way that is different from every other figure of the past. He is still alive!
Acts 10:34-43
The Cornelius episode is a turning point in Acts, marking the mission to the Gentiles, as initiated by the foremost of apostles, Peter (Acts 10:1--11:18). Cornelius, a pious man, probably a "godfearer" or hanger-on at the synagogue, is described as a centurion who gave alms and prayed constantly (10:1-2). Cornelius is told in a vision to send for Peter, who is having a vision of his own concerning clean and unclean foods (10:3-16). When Peter comes to Cornelius and hears his story, he realizes that his vision was symbolic: the issue was more than table fare; it denoted the inclusion of Gentiles in the infant Church (10:17-33). This leads to Peter's last great missionary speech (our lection), which is interrupted when the Holy Spirit falls on Cornelius and his companion, thus proving the point (10:44-48). When Peter is called to defend his visitation to the Gentiles (11:1-18), his story convinces his hearers that "God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life" (11:18).
The pattern of movement in the narrative is from story to conviction. Peter's hearing of Cornelius helps him see the light dawn on his own experience: "Now I understand," he says (10:34). His recounting of the story to his detractors in turn changes their minds about what God is up to (a similar movement is found in chapter 15). It is the triumph of narrative theology: telling the story transform minds. No one can deny the presence of the Holy Spirit among these Gentiles.
The missionary speech follows a pattern common to Acts. This one is addressed to Gentiles, not Jews (and thus while it mentions the prophets in v. 43, it does not actually cite any of them). With this speech, the mission to the Gentiles is formally inaugurated. The speech also summarizes a number of Lukan themes: the fulfillment of prophecy (v. 43), the geographical movement from Galilee to Jerusalem (v. 37), the starting point in John's baptism (v. 37), the emphasis on healings that overturn the devil's kingdom (v. 38), the presence of the Spirit with Jesus (v. 38), his rejection by the Jewish leadership (v. 39), his resurrection appearances to witnesses (vv. 40-41), and the commission to the witnesses to preach forgiveness of sins in his name (v. 43).
The seeming interjection, "He is Lord of all," underscores the creedal content of this speech (v. 36). Jesus as Lord is judge of all, but also the one who brings forgiveness of sins and messianic peace (vv. 42-43, 36). He comes from a God who is no respecter of persons -- God does not "show partiality," an expression which means literally to "lift up the face" of a supplicant who has bowed before him -- for no supplicant counts more than another (v. 34). Instead, God is open to any "godfearer" who is willing to do what is right; all such people, Jew or Gentile, receive actual acceptance by God (v. 35). This God has been revealed in one of the people of Israel, Jesus, "for God was with him" (vv. 36-37). Jesus' life is recounted in outline, beginning in Galilee and spreading to Judea and Jerusalem, from the baptism of John (with allusions to the temptation, v. 38) and his anointing with the Spirit and power, through his works of healing, and his death by hanging on a tree (v. 39, an allusion to the curse text of Deuteronomy 21:23). His appearances after his death to a number of witnesses (including, but not limited to, the Eleven, cf. Luke 24:33) serve as proof that God raised him on the third day (vv. 40-41). He continues to be present among them in the Spirit, which will soon descend on Cornelius to prove that God has taken a new turn (vv. 44-48).
The final creedal element concerns these disciples who were not only witnesses to the historical Jesus, but the risen Christ (vv. 40-42). These witnesses were commanded to preach and testify to Jesus as Lord, the judge of the living and dead, and the means of forgiveness to all who believe (vv. 36, 42-43). This Peter does to Cornelius with great success.
1 Corinthians 15:19-26
Chapter 15 is the final major section of 1 Corinthians, and as so often in ancient literature, the final position is the most emphatic. The resurrection is the foundation of everything that Paul has had to say so far, "of first importance" (15:3). It is the heart of the gospel, and thus has a bearing on all that precedes in the letter. Paul's hard and sometimes shocking language reinforces the subject's importance (cf. 15:2, 4, 17, 33-34, 36).
It seems that some in the Corinthian church "say that there is no resurrection of the dead" (15:12). As Paul notes, it is hard to understand how a Christian could deny resurrection, but the Corinthians as Gentiles may have found the notion of resurrection a foreign idea (as indeed did some Jews). Among several possibilities: they may have seen the resurrection of Jesus as an isolated and unusual event. They may have thought that only Christians alive when Christ returned would form the kingdom (cf. 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18). Most scholars see a kind of realized eschatology at work in Corinth, a spiritualized view of resurrection that said, "We have already been raised to new life" (cf. 1 Corinthians 4:8-11). A good Greek would deny that the resuscitation of corpses made sense, believing that the rational soul could be freed from the messiness of the body. Whatever the exact nature of the heterodoxy in Corinth, Paul's claim is that there is in fact a general resurrection, it will involve bodies of some sort, and it will happen in the future. The model of Christ demands it.
The movement of Paul's argument is from the greater to the lesser: Christ is the harbinger of a general resurrection. That Christ has been raised is the common foundation, without which Christianity would be nonsense (15:1-19). If Christ has not been raised, Paul says with no exaggeration, we who have placed hope in a dead man "are of all people most to be pitied" (v. 19). But Christ has in fact been raised as "first fruits" (v. 20). His allusion is to the ancient rule about the offering of the first installment of a crop, which foreshadowed and pledged the ultimate gift of the whole (cf. Exodus 23:19; Leviticus 23:10-11). Christ is thus the beginning of a much greater harvest of souls, a promise and guarantee. There is a direct connection between the resurrection of Jesus and that of all future Christians. Thus we are not pitiable but promised people.
In a double typology, Paul contrasts those who live in Christ and in Adam (vv. 21-23). Adam symbolizes those caught in death, but Christ represents those who live. A military metaphor is mixed with apocalyptic language that borders on doxology: there will be order in God's eschatological framework, for Christ will come as first fruits, then at his coming those who belong to him, and then the end, when he destroys the cosmic powers and put his enemies under his feet (vv. 23-25, cf. Psalm 110:1). The last enemy to be destroyed is death; the destruction of death is enabled by the resurrection harvest, since we all will live in Christ (v. 26). The victorious Christ thus will hand the kingdom over to the Father (v. 24).
John 20:1-18
John's empty tomb narrative is coupled with a resurrection appearance to Mary. The material is similar to but quite different from the Synoptic accounts, and many scholars think that John and the Synoptics shared a common source. John structures his narrative in two episodes, with the visit of Mary, Peter, and the Beloved Disciple resulting in misunderstanding (20:1-10), and the encounter between Mary and Jesus moving from misunderstanding to belief (20:11-18).
John does not specify why Mary went to the tomb (the body has already been prepared for burial, 19:38-42). Nor does he picture any other women with her (unlike the Synoptics). John has Mary visit while it is still dark (20:1), a symbolic detail if there ever was one, for only gradually will light dawn. Mary finds the stone, rolled away from the small entrance to the horizontal cave, and does not go inside before reporting to Simon Peter and the Beloved Disciple that "they have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him" (v. 2). Her use of the plural reflects the state of knowledge of the entire community, who do not yet understand what has happened to Jesus. Grave robbery was the logical conclusion, but Jesus will not fit into the usual categories of logic; only he will be able to answer the question about where he is (v. 16).
The exact location of Jesus is a recurring question in this section (cf. vv. 13, 15). It's a twist on a question that permeates the Gospel but is barely understood by the characters who pose it. The first disciples ask, "Where are you staying?" (1:38), but do not realize the implications of their question. Knowing where Jesus is correlates with the related question, where he comes from (3:1-10; 4:9; 6:51, 60-66; 7:32-36, 45-52; 8:14, 21-23). John's prologue answers the question: the Word was with God, and was God, and became flesh (1:1-18). Knowing where Jesus is, where he comes from, and where he is going -- he is with the Father, comes from the Father, and goes to the Father -- is essentially the same as knowing who he is (1:1, 14; 13:1; 14:10-11; 14:12; 16:27; 17:3, 11).
Peter and the Beloved Disciple visit the tomb in light of Mary's report. Much ink has been spilt on the significance of their footrace; perhaps John meant to portray the Beloved Disciple as the first to believe in the risen Jesus, but verse 8 may mean only that he believed Mary's report that the body had been stolen, since by the end of the episode, both return home empty of understanding (vv. 9-10). A sharp eye would have put the lie to the grave robbery supposition, for grave robbers would have taken the burial clothes with the body, and not have paused to roll them up neatly (vv. 6-7). Though it is light by now (they can see inside the cave), these two disciples have not yet been illuminated, and so leave the stage for Mary to meet the gardener.
Mary, whose weeping was foretold by Jesus (16:20-22), must first run the gauntlet of two angels in white, hovering over the tomb like the cherubs of the Ark of the Covenant (v. 12). Their question assumes that there is no real reason to weep (v. 13), but Mary can give the mystery of the empty tomb only a human logic; her repetition of her observation is rendered this time in the more personal "I" of grief: "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him" (v. 13). She turns, sees, but does not recognize Jesus, because she does not have the eyes of faith. Jesus repeats not only the question of the angels, "Woman, why are you weeping?" but also his original question to his disciples, indeed the question to every disciple, "Whom are you looking for?" (v. 15, cf. 1:38). That she takes him for the gardener underscores her ignorance of who Jesus really is; the narrative embodies the ignorance that for John is the same as unbelief.
The cure for unbelief is to have the Shepherd call you by name (v. 16, cf. 10:3-4). Once Mary hears Jesus' voice, she realizes how wrong she was to give a conventional explanation to the disappearance of one who breaks down all the usual categories of this world. She now sees him for who he is, "Rabbouni" (an Aramaic variation on "Rabbi"). The command in verse 17, "Do not hold on to me," could be taken either as a prohibition of what has already happened ("Stop holding me," cf. Matthew 28:9), or of intention ("Do not grasp me"). The command is puzzling, since Jesus otherwise has no qualms about the disciples touching his resurrected body (20:27). Even more puzzling is the reason given for not touching Jesus at this time: "because I have not yet ascended to the Father." It is perhaps best to see this dialogue aimed more at the reader than at the story's characters. Jesus' "hour" of glorification, the entire movement from death to resurrection to ascension, is in God's view one moment of time, so that normal narrative and temporal patterns are in flux. Jesus is not yet ascended to the Father, because the entire process, while begun, is not complete. Mary cannot "hold" or "grasp" Jesus in this moment, because the very notion is ungraspable. To attempt to hold on to Jesus at this moment would be to interfere with the ongoing process, which must be brought to fruition if all the disciples are to understand. Ironically, they must come to understand that which cannot be completely understood by mere humans. Such understanding is experiential rather than intellectual; Jesus' resurrection will initiate a new relationship between the disciples and God, as he ascends "to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God" (v. 17).
Luke 24:1-12
Luke's empty tomb narrative continues seamlessly his passion narrative. The women who watched the crucifixion at a distance saw the burial of Jesus by Joseph of Arimathea, prepared the spices and ointments for his body, and then returned to their homes to observe the sabbath (23:49-56). They became the first witnesses of Jesus' resurrection (24:9).
Who were these women? Three are named at the end of the story, but there were more: "Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women" (v. 10). According to Luke, it was women who did the logistical support for Jesus' ministry (8:2-3). They become the first human witnesses to the Resurrection when they find the wheel-stone rolled away from the tomb and go in to find no body. The sight leaves them "perplexed," because the fact of the empty tomb needs interpretation, which is provided by two men in dazzling clothes (v. 4). The men, later said to be angels (v. 23), are the two witnesses required by Jewish law. In the standard pattern of a theophany, the women cower in fear and humility before they receive their commission. The angels testify to Jesus' resurrection: "Why do you look for the living among the dead?" (v. 5). Their commission to the women is not to "Go, tell" as in the other Synoptics, but simply to remember: "Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again" (vv. 6-7). That they are told to "remember" is further proof that they were there to hear Jesus' words in the first place; Luke pictures these women as disciples in their own rights.
As we have already seen in the book of Acts, remembrance is of crucial importance to Luke, since one who remembers can retell the story so as to learn its significance. In this case, however, the events themselves cannot be understood without further interpretation. The male disciples, with no little chauvinism, do not believe the women, thinking their words an idle tale (v. 11). They will need Jesus' own interpretation in order to understand (cf. 24:32, 45). Only later will they get what came so quickly to the women, when Jesus himself opens the scriptures to them in what will be the greatest Bible study in the history of the world (24:44-49).
Thus Luke prepares for the continuation of his story in his second volume, the book of Acts. Unlike the other Synoptics, Luke has no promise of a Galilean appearance; the focus stays in Jerusalem, the center of Luke's story. It is in Jerusalem that the disciples will become witnesses to the risen Jesus, an essential requirement for being numbered an apostle (cf. Acts 1:22). Our lection concludes with the enigmatic story of Peter running all alone to confirm the women's story (v. 12 is omitted by some manuscripts, but it seems a natural antecedent to v. 24, and there is no good reason to reject it). His experience leaves him much like the women were at first, "amazed at what had happened," but he will have to wait for full understanding (and his own encounter with the risen Jesus).
Application
"On the day when I can no longer believe in the Resurrection, I shall no longer be able to follow Christ. It's not that I require a reward after death; it's just that I refuse to have a dead guy running my life" (Garret Keizer in The Christian Century, May 17, 2003, 9). The resurrection of Christ is still a crucial part of the Christian creed, the foundation of all that goes before and after. This is no abstraction, because a risen Christ is by definition still alive -- in the stories about him that we continue to remember, tell, and reinterpret for one another, in the leading of his Spirit, personally and communally, in the bread and wine that is his body and blood, in the faces of those around us, believers and unbelievers alike -- if only we have the eyes to see him!
To paraphrase Paul: If Christ has not been raised, we might as well bag it and go home. But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, and I've got the stories, the communities, and the sacraments to prove it. I'll grant you that's not the proof of a mathematical equation or a scientific hypothesis, but standing before the mystery of the universe, how much proof do you need?
Alternative Applications
1) 1 Corinthians 15:19-26. Christ as "first fruits" implies that resurrection is always connected with real life. It is not an abstraction, but something we participate in from the very beginning. The Corinthians' mistake was not to think that the risen Christ was relevant to the here and now, but to limit resurrection to the present. In fact, if Paul is right, we have something to look forward to.
2) Acts 10:34-43. Ethics and resurrection go hand in hand. As with Paul, Luke thought the resurrection of Jesus had a connection with real life. Luke is clear that faith has an ethical component: "In every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him" (v. 35). In Christian thought, ethics are enabled by resurrection. Only through resurrection is the Spirit of Jesus distributed to all believers. During his life, the presence of Jesus was limited physically; he could only be with so many disciples at one time. Thanks to his resurrection, he has now sent the Spirit to be with all of us. The new presence of Jesus is mediated to us in a brand new way, through the Spirit. This is the essence of the story Luke tells in Acts, where people like Peter are changed from cowardly deniers to fearless witnesses of Jesus.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24
The climactic verse in the Easter reading of Psalm 118 (v. 24) can easily serve as an appropriate anthem for celebrating the goodness of God on any given day. Every day is the day that the Lord has made. But there is poignancy in using this verse in reference to the day we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. It would be effective to construct a sermon around verse 24 using the rhythm of the litany already established by the verses leading up to it.
The Resurrection was not an afterthought, or a "plan B." God had it in mind all along. Death would be defeated once for all in our lives by raising Jesus from the dead. This is the day God made to accomplish this incredible act -- let us rejoice in it and be glad.
The sorrow that follows on the heels of all our losses, the lonely separation from loved ones by death, is certainly one of the most difficult burdens we bear. But because of God's gift of eternal life demonstrated powerfully by raising Jesus from the dead, we are not doomed to carry the burden of loss without hope. We can find comfort in the knowledge that we will see our loved ones again. This is the day the Lord has created for this great purpose -- let us rejoice in it and be glad.
Of course death is not only about the loss of life. People in our world daily face the death of their dreams. It may take the form of the loss of a home or career. It may come as a divorce or a debilitating illness or injury. Suddenly, without warning, the world we thought we knew turns on us and we are laid bare with distress.
But God has unleashed a powerful principle of renewal in our world. God can take what is dead and breathe new life into it. He can take shattered dreams and lost hopes and make them alive again. We can experience resurrection in our hearts and in our minds as God works with us to creatively find ways around and through our disappointments. Just when we think the world has ended, God makes a new world. And this is the day the Lord has made where that sort of renewal of life can happen -- let us rejoice in it and be glad.
More often than not, it is the daily grind that robs us of our joy, fills us with boredom, and tempts us to apathy. It is the mind-numbing routines that mark our days and sap our energy that we come to resent. Without any specific event, no particular tragedy, we yet find ourselves grieving a life that is not snatched away, but rather slips away. We stand looking back over 20, 30, or 50 years and wonder where the time went.
But there is a cure for this malaise. It is the recognition that God has chosen to infuse life with a constant source of newness. We can, if we choose to, live in the light of a new day every day. And this is that day that the Lord has made for us to live in. Today, let us rejoice in it and be glad.
