"Easter through Tear Stained Eyes" - Sermon for Easter Sunday

Easter through Tear Stained Eyes
Easter Sunday – Narrative Lectionary 4
April 1, 2018
Grace, Mankato, MN
John 20.1-18

We said good bye to one of our cats this week, and almost all black cat named Mystery. I called her Squirt because she was so petite. She was just a few weeks shy of her 18th birthday and, although it was necessary to let her go, you can imagine that it was also difficult. It was my wife, Cindy, who reminded me that we’ve experienced a number of significant losses this time of year. We said goodbye to Mystery’s sister, Shadow, a year ago at 17 years old, Cindy’s parents within the last few years, and mine a number of years ago, all around this same time. So, as you might imagine, Easter is something of a mixed bag for us, producing a complex of emotions.

Indeed, the resurrection story in John produces from Jesus’ followers a mix of responses to the news of the empty tomb. Peter, Jesus’ closest friend, sees the tomb and loose wrappings and goes away shaking his head, confused as to what he has seen. The other disciple, known in theological circles as the Beloved Disciples and who many think is John, sees the same and believes, though we don’t know what exactly he believes. But it is Mary Magdalene, full of grief and who—as my colleague Andrea Myers says—sees Jesus through tear stained eyes, to whom I’m drawn this Easter. Some of you may be in different places, perhaps like Peter, confused, or like the Beloved Disciple, believing yet not know what exactly. That’s okay. But we’re going to take a look at the resurrection through Mary’s tear stained eyes.

We don’t know why Mary came to the tomb that first Easter, though it wouldn’t be unusual for people to mourn at a grave following a death. But the sight of the empty tomb was too much for her. Mary’s grief at losing her teacher to a cruel and senseless death is now compounded by another loss. The apparent theft of Jesus’ body is too much to handle; anger and confusion add to already momentous grief. Even the sharing of this experience with Peter and the Beloved Disciple are not enough to stem the tears.

I think the reason of the death of a pet like Mystery can be difficult is not just because they have meant so much and given us such joy. It’s because those losses stir up grief within us from other losses. Poet, pastor and theologian John Donne said it best in his work, “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” “… [A]ny man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee." Donne acknowledges our interconnectedness with one another.

But Jesus’ resurrection tells us that death does not have the last word, nor is it the most important word that we hear. The moment Jesus calls her name, Mary now sees Jesus, albeit through tear stained eyes. And through those tear stained eyes Mary is also able to see a new reality: it is possible that life can come from death even in the midst of seemingly hopeless situations. God is always at work in the world in ways we can’t always see or imagine. So in the meantime, we live with Easter trust.

In John’s Gospel, Jesus is clear that this new life happens now, but it also happens in the futures. So it is that with the loss of pet, there’s the question of “Are they in heaven?” I don’t know, but I agree with RB Cunningham Graham who says, “God forbid that I should go to any heaven in which there are no horses.” Another way to say it is that I can’t imagine a heaven without those things most precious to us. But until then, as Northwestern Minnesota Synod Bishop Larry Wohlrabe says, “We rejoice with a lump in our throat.” Christ is risen, my sisters and brothers. It’s not too good to be true, it’s too good not to be true. Amen.