Lean
Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes.
But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher).
John 20:1-16
I’ve been starting seeds inside for my garden. They sit right there, on the bench in front of the windows. They’re protected from what’s happening outside, even if they do have to submit themselves to the careful sniffing of our cat. They’re beautiful little sprouts, hopeful and fragile before they become the sturdy, flower and vegetable producing plants they’re called to be. They’ve gone through this week as we have, witness to open windows and warm temperatures, but also the snow and hail and rain.
Through it all, they have one purpose: to grow. And not just that, but since they are inside and next to the window, they grow in a single direction: toward the sun.
These little green shoots lean. They lean hard into the sun. They are diligent, despite my attention and turning them to straighten them out, they can’t help it. They lean into the sun, toward the light, toward the outdoors where they one day will be.
We know Easter as a time of great triumph. It’s loud and bright and full of celebration and joy. Christ is Risen! It’s a trumpet-sounding, glory-filled time of death being toppled over. But when I reread the story of Jesus’ resurrection for the hundredth time, I didn’t see any mention of trumpets. This isn’t the story of Jericho, of grand defeat of enemies, of public spectacle. This is the mystery of an empty tomb that no one understands and one man who is mistaken for the gardener.
As it turns out, you can whisper the message that Christ is no longer dead and it will still be heard.
For as dramatic as resurrection is, this doesn’t seem to be an abrupt turnaround. It’s a little bit more like the trees. The trees that are taking these weeks to remind themselves and us that leaves will return, that springtime green is like no other, that life can be coaxed back. It’s like plants gently and persistently leaning toward the sun.
Whispered or shouted, the resurrection directs us to living that is not overwhelmed by dying. It shows us which way to lean.
This doesn’t erase death, despite what you may have heard before. “Where, O death, is you sting!” we have sung triumphantly. Well, I think the sting is right here and it never really goes away. Later Thomas asks for Jesus to prove that it is actually him, and Jesus shows his scars--not a perfect, healed self.
Death being defeated doesn’t vanish it, but puts it back into the context of life.
The resurrection moved death from the event that overwhelms and swallows us, that makes day night, that punishes and harms, back where it belongs as part of what we will all experience, God willing, without great fear and at the appropriate time. Resurrection reminds us, simply and gently, we do not lean toward death. We lean toward life.