April 5, 2015

Helen Jacobi

Easter Day     Acts 10:34-43     Mark 16:1-8

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Imagine you are a cricket fan 200 years from now and you are reviewing ancient digital footage; it is the 2015 World Cup cricket semi final between NZ and South Africa; 2 balls to go; and the footage runs out. Technology has not preserved Grant Elliott’s 6. You know about it because the story has become legend and has been passed down through generations of cricket lovers.

But frustratingly there is no ending for the game. The footage stops before the game is finished.

Today’s gospel reading from Mark does just that. It stops in the middle of a sentence. "The women went out from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; they said nothing to anyone, they were afraid for..."

That’s how it reads in Greek, ending the sentence and the Gospel with a preposition – “for”. The most important story of the Christian faith just stops and the end just hangs out there.

And we are left waiting for that 6. We know how it ends; the disciples see the risen Jesus – right? he eats fish with them on the beach; they talk. Well, not in Mark’s gospel. Lamar Williamson says "When is an ending not an end? When a dead man rises from the tomb, and when a Gospel ends in the middle of a sentence." [1]

Several ancient versions of the Gospel attempted to fix this anomaly by adding another ending. Most Bibles print 3 different endings for Mark. The so called longer ending of Mark has an appearance to Mary Magdalene, like John’s gospel; then a short description of the Emmaus story which is from Luke; and a command to go into all the world – like the ending of Matthew’s gospel. But the style of writing is so different that you can tell, even in English, that these were added by another hand, by someone who wanted to make Mark’s Gospel sound like the others, by someone who wanted an ending.

Mark’s gospel was the first one to be written and the original writer was obviously happy with his ending, but scribes in the second century added the other endings. Even back then, there was some editor who was saying: "We can’t have this. We need a conclusion! We need to wrap this up so that, we can bring up the background music, roll the credits and let people leave with a good feeling about this. We can’t have: "they said nothing to anyone for they were afraid!" [2] We have to see that 6 cross the boundary.

On an Easter morning 2000 years on, it is hard to relate back to the fear and uncertainty of the first Easter Day. We have centuries of theology, of paintings, of music, of films, which somewhat sanitise the picture and make it full of happy images, even with a few fluffy chicks creeping in.

But the gospel we read today clearly shows us the stark fresh story. And it is a story which begins in fear and silence. The feminist theologians always remind us in the other versions that it was the women who first spread the good news of Jesus’ resurrection. But here even the women are silenced, or have not yet found their voice.

This in a way is typical of Mark’s gospel, the disciples are no heroes, they don’t understand who Jesus is. Nobody gets it really. And earlier in the gospel the disciples are told not to say who Jesus is for fear of the Romans, and for fear of being misunderstood.

Mark’s account is very real – of course the women would have been terrified. Most of the disciples were already hidden, their teacher and leader had been brutally killed, for all they knew they could be next. The Roman rule was very oppressive and their hopes for a revolution had been dashed.

And yet out of love for Jesus the women went to the tomb, to tend the body as was their custom. It had not been bathed and anointed as was fitting. And they wanted to complete their tasks. But to their horror, even this last dignity was taken away from them. The body was gone. There was an angel there, but seeing an angel doesn’t really help – just one more thing to make you scared.

I said in my sermon on Good Friday that our only response when confronted with the crucifixion of Jesus is one of silence. We are left wordless in the face of the pain and forsaken-ness of it all. But on Easter Day we come expecting joy and song, not silence. Today we have silence again; even from those women.

How often I wonder do we find ourselves silent? Silent when we have good news to share, or silent when we have fears to share. Silent about the things we really want to do or say; silent about our dreams because we are worried we will seem silly, or silent about our hopes because no one else might share them. Or silent about someone we love in case they don’t feel the same.

Or are we silenced – silenced by a bully at work or school, silenced by lack of money or skills, silenced by poverty, or illness, silenced by an abuse of power.

As we look at our world this Easter Day we know there are thousands, millions who are silenced. Refugees in Syria; the kidnapped girls of Nigeria, the Palestinians of the Gaza strip; slaves of ISIS; political prisoners in so many countries; journalists who cannot write; singers who cannot sing. Some of these causes get a voice for a day or two on social media; the favourite hashtag goes viral and then is quiet again.

The lack of an ending to Mark’s gospel could also be political – Mark is writing in about the year 70, around the time of the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem; Jews are being massacred; life is full of terror. So “they said nothing to anyone for they were afraid” is still very real for Mark’s community. And like all political movements know – stuff that is written down can be held against you. A written copy of the gospel with a resurrected Jesus in it was most definitely seditious. Better not to write it down. The first century version of Wikileaks is sure to leak it.

So we don’t know how the women of Mark’s gospel found their voice. But I’m guessing it was something to do with remembering how much Jesus loved them and they him. And thinking again about the angel’s instructions to go and tell. And remembering many of the confusing things he had taught them about the first being last; and losing your life to find it; and the poor being blessed. And then finding within themselves a seed of hope which said – maybe – maybe – he has come back to us. Finding our voice in a world rather too dominated by bad news stories is about finding hope and love and good news in those around us; we all have seeds of hope, sparks of love.

Mark’s gospel ends abruptly but I think the editor knew that was where everyone else’s story would pick up and continue. And by not giving us the script, the next part of the story is so much more our own; for our time; and our own context. Your story and mine is the next chapter. What we do with the Jesus story is the next chapter.

When you find your voice this Easter day what story will you choose to tell? Grant Elliott hit a 6. That we know. The women eventually told what they had seen that first Easter Day. An empty tomb. The hope Jesus had brought them in life was real in death also. What hope do you add to the story today? Claim it; claim life and love and hope, find your voice, for it is your voice which continues the story.

[1] Mark: Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching p283, 2009

[2] http://www.csec.org/index.php/archives/23-member-archives/264-cynthia-campbell-program-4427