by Steven Norris
It was dark when Mary approached the tomb that morning. Dark because it was just before sunrise. Dark because she was consumed by sadness. Dark because her dreams had been crushed and she had buried someone she dearly loved.
One has to wonder what the sabbath observance must have been like the day before. Did she pull herself together enough to go to temple? Was it a glimpse of heaven — like church is supposed to be? Maybe this sabbath felt more like a glimpse of hell instead — the very folks she was worshipping with were the ones who had crucified her teacher, friend, and Lord.
Some people say that grief makes you go numb inside. I have heard others say exactly the opposite — every word, sound, and image assaults the senses like never before. Mary arrives to have those senses overwhelmed once again. The stone is rolled away…the tomb is empty.
Then, the running starts. Mary runs to the disciples, Peter and John run to the tomb with Mary in close pursuit, and Peter and John run back to town, leaving Mary to weep alone.
“Why are you weeping?” the angels asked her. Is it not perfectly obvious why she is crying? It is not enough they put him on trial, convicted him, put him to death, and placed him in a tomb. Now, someone steals the body as well! What do you mean, “Why are you weeping?”
Minutes later, a man standing nearby asks it again, “Woman, why are you weeping?” Thinking him to be the gardener, she does what all of us would do in such a situation.
“Look, I don’t want to press charges. Tell me where the body is, and we can just pretend none of this ever happened.”
“Mary,” the voice says.
The Greek word, ekklesia, is a word that we translate as “church,” but it literally means “the called out ones.” Here we have the first Easter church — the first ones called out by Jesus to testify that a new day is here.
“Mary!”
This is the day of resurrection! Nothing can be the same. Death has been turned on its head. The old rules just do not hold up anymore. God has won.
As Jesus speaks our name, it is as if we are hearing it for the first time. We recognize the voice we have been waiting our whole life to hear. What did the gospel of John say earlier?
“I am the good Shepherd. I know my own and my own know me. They hear my voice and I call them by name.
“Mary!”
She responds in the only way she could: “Lord, my Lord!” In other words: “My teacher, master, friend. Rabonni!”
The emphasis shifts from master, teacher, lord to “mine” as she tries to grab hold in order to not risk losing Jesus again. For the “called out ones,” however, Jesus says, “don’t cling to me . . . but go, tell the others.”
As the ecclesia for this community, we are called to go, share the good news, testify to a new day that is dawning, and live the resurrection. For you see, the main focus of Easter is not about an empty tomb. It’s about a risen Savior — a Savior who comes to us, calls us by name, and sends us out to be his witnesses.