Rev. Molly F. James, PhD
DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom
Easter Monday, April 13, 2020
May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
You know that feeling when you wake up after something significant has happened in your life. There is that first moment when you wake up, and it is as though nothing is different. Your mind is slowly orienting itself to the day. Then realization comes. You remember. Sometimes that means you are filled with joy. You have a new job. Today is the first day of vacation. You are going on a trip. Today is a milestone for you or someone you love. A day of celebration. Other times you are filled with sadness. There was a brief moment where everything was okay, but then the awareness came. Now what you feel are waves of sadness or anger or frustration. You are feeling the weight of the loss all over again.
I was thinking today about that moment when we first wake up. I was thinking about Mary Magdalene and wondering what it was like for her to wake up on this Easter Monday morning. I am sure it was better than waking up on Easter morning. On Easter she woke up in the dark, if she even slept at all. She gathered her things and went to the tomb to anoint Jesus’ body. She went to do that thing that women have done for centuries. She went to care for the dead. She went to do one final act of loving service for her Lord and teacher. Of course, we know how the story goes. Many of us likely heard it yesterday. Jesus isn’t there and although it takes a little while for Mary to understand what had happened, she becomes the first person to see the resurrected Jesus. She is the first to witness and know the truth of the resurrection. Easter Day did not go at all how she was expecting. Everything changed, for the better.
So what must it have been like for her to wake up on this Easter Monday? Did she have that moment of realization? Did she wake up first remembering the horrors of Friday? Did she wake up filled with grief and sadness? How long did it take for her to remember what happened yesterday? How long before she could be comforted by the conviction that everything had changed, that Jesus had risen from the dead? No doubt she got to a place of joy and hope, replaying that moment of recognition in the Garden outside the tomb. Jesus was alive again!
And yet, along with that sheer joy and sense of celebration, there is a tinge of heartache and sadness. Mary knows that the resurrection did not erase the events of Good Friday. Jesus still has his wounds. The Roman authorities are still angry and will likely be seeking out Jesus’ followers to persecute them. Our Gospel reading reminds us how scared the authorities were of what would happen if people knew that Jesus had been raised from the dead.
Mary knows that everything is different. She knows that God has the power to do transformational things for her and for the world. She knows that death is not the end. She knows that hope and love are stronger than death. And yet, she does not know how the story will end. Jesus has told her that she cannot hang on to him. He will not be staying with her. There is joy, so much joy, and there is also sadness and perhaps even a little fear for the future.
Well, that resonates for me today. I am finding a lot of comfort in the story of Mary Magdalene on this Easter Monday. We are in a similar state. Easter has happened, although the day probably did not go at all how we might have thought it would or wanted it to go. We have received wonderful news. We have had the powerful, inspiring, comforting truth of the primacy of God’s love, of the sheer power of God’s love in the face of humanity’s worst. We have had that truth affirmed for us. And now it is a new day and a new week. We want to hold onto that truth with the same fierceness with which Mary wanted to grab Jesus’ feet and keep him with her.
But neither Mary’s life nor our lives are stagnant. We cannot just stop everything and stay there. There is work to do. There is living to do. Even though we do not yet know what the future holds. We do not know when we will see the end of rising infection rates and death tolls, although there seem to be glimmers that all our collective efforts are having an impact. We do not know when we will see an end to our quarantines. We do not know when we will go back to work in our offices, to worship in our churches, to gather with friends and family, to simply be able to do an errand because we wanted to and without any personal protective equipment.
And so here we are on Easter Monday, in the very good company of Mary Magdalene and the other women, feeling grounded and filled with hope that we know the reality of resurrection. We know it is true. We know it is real. And we are waiting, with a little (or maybe even a lot) of anxiety for the future to unfold. We are waiting to see how the story will go.
I wish I knew already, as I am sure Mary did. I do know two important truths, which I hope comforted Mary as they can comfort us. First, is that God is at work. We may not know what tomorrow will bring, but we do know that God is here. God is with us. God’s life giving, loving Spirit is present with us through whatever challenges come. Second, we are not alone. Mary did not go to the tomb alone. We do not travel this journey alone. We have each other. And what a difference it makes to know that we do not travel alone. We are blessed with companions on the way who will comfort and inspire us. Who will share our burdens and encourage us.
It is Easter Monday. It is a joyful day. It is a complicated day. It is a day of waiting. And yet we can find solace in the truths of our faith and draw strength from the reality that we are not alone. AMEN.
I was thinking today about that moment when we first wake up. I was thinking about Mary Magdalene and wondering what it was like for her to wake up on this Easter Monday morning. I am sure it was better than waking up on Easter morning. On Easter she woke up in the dark, if she even slept at all. She gathered her things and went to the tomb to anoint Jesus’ body. She went to do that thing that women have done for centuries. She went to care for the dead. She went to do one final act of loving service for her Lord and teacher. Of course, we know how the story goes. Many of us likely heard it yesterday. Jesus isn’t there and although it takes a little while for Mary to understand what had happened, she becomes the first person to see the resurrected Jesus. She is the first to witness and know the truth of the resurrection. Easter Day did not go at all how she was expecting. Everything changed, for the better.
So what must it have been like for her to wake up on this Easter Monday? Did she have that moment of realization? Did she wake up first remembering the horrors of Friday? Did she wake up filled with grief and sadness? How long did it take for her to remember what happened yesterday? How long before she could be comforted by the conviction that everything had changed, that Jesus had risen from the dead? No doubt she got to a place of joy and hope, replaying that moment of recognition in the Garden outside the tomb. Jesus was alive again!
And yet, along with that sheer joy and sense of celebration, there is a tinge of heartache and sadness. Mary knows that the resurrection did not erase the events of Good Friday. Jesus still has his wounds. The Roman authorities are still angry and will likely be seeking out Jesus’ followers to persecute them. Our Gospel reading reminds us how scared the authorities were of what would happen if people knew that Jesus had been raised from the dead.
Mary knows that everything is different. She knows that God has the power to do transformational things for her and for the world. She knows that death is not the end. She knows that hope and love are stronger than death. And yet, she does not know how the story will end. Jesus has told her that she cannot hang on to him. He will not be staying with her. There is joy, so much joy, and there is also sadness and perhaps even a little fear for the future.
Well, that resonates for me today. I am finding a lot of comfort in the story of Mary Magdalene on this Easter Monday. We are in a similar state. Easter has happened, although the day probably did not go at all how we might have thought it would or wanted it to go. We have received wonderful news. We have had the powerful, inspiring, comforting truth of the primacy of God’s love, of the sheer power of God’s love in the face of humanity’s worst. We have had that truth affirmed for us. And now it is a new day and a new week. We want to hold onto that truth with the same fierceness with which Mary wanted to grab Jesus’ feet and keep him with her.
But neither Mary’s life nor our lives are stagnant. We cannot just stop everything and stay there. There is work to do. There is living to do. Even though we do not yet know what the future holds. We do not know when we will see the end of rising infection rates and death tolls, although there seem to be glimmers that all our collective efforts are having an impact. We do not know when we will see an end to our quarantines. We do not know when we will go back to work in our offices, to worship in our churches, to gather with friends and family, to simply be able to do an errand because we wanted to and without any personal protective equipment.
And so here we are on Easter Monday, in the very good company of Mary Magdalene and the other women, feeling grounded and filled with hope that we know the reality of resurrection. We know it is true. We know it is real. And we are waiting, with a little (or maybe even a lot) of anxiety for the future to unfold. We are waiting to see how the story will go.
I wish I knew already, as I am sure Mary did. I do know two important truths, which I hope comforted Mary as they can comfort us. First, is that God is at work. We may not know what tomorrow will bring, but we do know that God is here. God is with us. God’s life giving, loving Spirit is present with us through whatever challenges come. Second, we are not alone. Mary did not go to the tomb alone. We do not travel this journey alone. We have each other. And what a difference it makes to know that we do not travel alone. We are blessed with companions on the way who will comfort and inspire us. Who will share our burdens and encourage us.
It is Easter Monday. It is a joyful day. It is a complicated day. It is a day of waiting. And yet we can find solace in the truths of our faith and draw strength from the reality that we are not alone. AMEN.
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