Finding Jesus

April 1^st, 2018       “Finding Jesus”  Rev. Heather Jepsen

John 20:1-18 with Luke 24:13-35

         I don’t know why writing an Easter sermon seems so difficult.  You all know the story this morning and you all came to hear the same sermon.  “Christ is risen!” should be all I need to say.  And yet, like many other preachers I find this Sunday to be a sort of test.  Can I think of something new to say?  Can I put a new spin on the old story?  Can I craft something that is both familiar and comforting to regular attenders, inspiring to those whose faith is on the margins, and welcoming to those who are first time visitors?   Invariably, Holy Week finds me staring out the window, looking for inspiration, and looking for Jesus. 

         When I read the Gospel of John’s version of the Easter morning story I am stumped as to what I might add.  John has it all: excitement, mystery, whimsy, wonder, and faith.  John begins in darkness, as Mary comes to the tomb even before the sunrise.  Unlike the other gospel accounts, she is alone, and she does not bring spices.  In John’s reading, Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea have already prepared the body for burial.  Mary is simply one coming to a graveside to mourn, much as we would today.

         When she sees the stone rolled away, Mary worries that things have been tampered with.  John doesn’t tell us that she looked inside; only that she ran to find help.  She tells the others that Jesus is missing and Simon Peter and the other disciple race to find out what happened.  It is easy to imagine these two, sandals slapping the road and robes flapping behind them as they run to see what might be going on.

         When they enter the space of death, they find the items of burial all wrapped and set aside.  It is almost as if Jesus was simply taking a nap and now that he is finished he got up and made the bed.  John tells us that upon seeing these things, the two disciples believed.  But John doesn’t tell us what it is that they believed, as they “did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead.”  Did they believe the body was stolen, like Mary?  Or did they believe something divine had happened?  The author leaves it up to us to decide.  Maybe the two left the tomb believing different things about what they had seen there.  I am sure there will be a variety of beliefs about what happened that day among us as we collectively leave the worship space this morning.

         Mary is still unsettled and remains in the garden outside the tomb weeping.  When she peers into the space of death, the author tells us that she sees angels.  Mary doesn’t seem to be aware of this though.  They ask after her tears and she states again that she is looking for the missing Jesus.  If the angels have any further information to give, they don’t offer it. 

         The writer then tells us that Mary turns around and sees Jesus standing beside her, but she doesn’t know that it is Jesus.  This is wonderful writing, as the reader now knows for sure that the Lord has risen and that Jesus lives again.  The suspense for the reader is not in the question of what has happened to Jesus.  Now it is in the question of what will happen to Mary.  Will Mary realize what is going on, or will she remain clouded in a fog of grief?

         Jesus speaks to her directly, asking her why she continues to cry.  With an April Fool’s wink in his eye he asks her who she is looking for, knowing full well that it is him that she seeks.  Mary does not recognize Jesus and so asks him again about where the missing Jesus might be.  Only then does he smile and call her name.  Her eyes are opened, she sees the risen Lord, and she rejoices.  Jesus warns her not to cling to him as he has places to go and people to see.  And he sends her with the message to spread the word, the Lord has risen.  Mary returns to the disciples, now confident in her message; not “where is the body?” but “I have seen the Lord!”

         There is little for the preacher to add to this perfectly crafted story.  I think it is simply enough that we hear it again and recognize its truth.  So often we are like Mary, blindly searching for Jesus when the Lord is standing right in front of us.  We are in good company with our futile efforts.  Throughout the gospels folks don’t seem to recognize the risen Jesus right away.  I imagine he looked different to those who knew him before.  And to those of us who have never met him in person, well, how could we possibly know what he looks like?

         In the gospels, Jesus’ presence is often hidden.  In this story from John, Mary doesn’t know him until he calls her name.  Later in John’s gospel Jesus will stand on a beach and call to the disciples as they fish on the Sea of Galilee, and even though they have already encountered the risen Lord, they will not recognize him.  In the story that Mary read from Luke, the disciples don’t know Jesus until he breaks the bread.  They had spent nearly a day with him and did not recognize him.  And later in Luke’s gospel, the disciples will see the risen Lord but they will be filled with fear because he looks like a ghost. 

         Why is it so hard to recognize Jesus?  If we are looking for him, why can’t we see him?  I imagine we have so much trouble because Jesus probably doesn’t look like what we are looking for.  Like Mary, we probably look right at Jesus and assume he is simply someone else.  We assume he is the gardener, our waiter, the cashier lady at Walmart, or someone bumping into us in the crowd.  We aren’t looking for him there, so we don’t see him, until of course Jesus reaches out to us.  That’s the trick about searching for the divine.  We do the seeking, but we don’t ever find anything.  In fact, I think while we are the seekers, we are also the ones who are found.

         As you know I have just returned from the Holy Land, and that is a place where many people go looking for Jesus.  Like many folks there I had all my senses open for a chance encounter with God.  Would I be struck dumb by the Jordan River?  Would I be moved to tears by the Church of the Nativity?  Walking the streets of Jerusalem would I succumb to Jerusalem syndrome and start thinking I was Mary Magdalene myself, looking for the Lord in the garden?  Who knows what would happen.

         One thing that did happen was this.  It was a very long day which started with the story I told last week about walking the Palm Sunday road.  The day featured too many churches to count, an accidental baptism in spilled lemonade, and an argument over lunch prices.  The day ended with me exhausted at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.  This is the place where Jesus is said both to have been crucified and risen.  Home to over 5 denominations the church is a mish mash of shrines and art.  After a brief introduction, our group was given 45 minutes to explore the space on our own.

         As I mentioned it was the end of the day.  I was tired and the church was dark and crowded.  And I have to tell you, I just hated the place.  I know it is a shrine and a destination for many but I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.  As my friend and I walked from room to room I kept mumbling things like “I don’t like it in here”, “this is creepy”, and “let’s get out of here”.  I can’t explain it but the space just made me feel really bad.  So after only 15 minutes the two of us were back out on the street.

         We had 30 minutes to wait so we walked back to the shops to poke around a bit.  Seeing nothing of interest, my friend and I sat down on the steps outside the church, simply waiting for the rest of the group to arrive so we could go back to the hotel for dinner and bed as it was nearly 7pm.  

         Suddenly a man came and sat down beside me on the steps.  He was obviously a local as I had noticed him a moment before in the square chatting with guards and such.  He had left the space and then had returned with a small selection of breads from one of the carts nearby.  I am assuming these were ½ off or even free samples as the day was over and the man did not appear to have significant wealth about him. 

         Anyway, this stranger sat down on the step just below mine and turned around to speak to me.  He asked if I was ok and I said that I was simply tired, and it had been a long day.  And then, this stranger offered me some of his bread.  I hesitated, mama always told me not to take food from strangers, and as I did so he said “don’t worry, it’s not dirty.”  I don’t know why he thought I thought it was dirty, maybe he got it off the floor.  I smiled and ripped a piece off his loaf and of course it was delicious, a long sesame loaf that is traditional in the area.  I told him it tasted good and thanked him for sharing it with me.  He sat for a moment longer with me, then jumped up and vanished into the shadows of the night.

         Like Mary in the garden, as soon as he handed me the bread I knew who he was.  He wasn’t some gardener, he wasn’t some stranger, he was Jesus, come to find me on the steps of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.  Jesus making himself known in the breaking of bread.  “Of course!” I thought.  God is not in that scary church or any other building or shrine.  God is not even in the Holy Land.  God is in people, always in people.  It is only when we reach out; when we are bold enough to speak to the stranger, when we really share our lives with each other, it is only then that we will find Jesus.  It is only then that we will see God.

         I don’t know what you are looking for here today, but I suspect that some of you are looking for Jesus.  The only advice I can offer is to keep your eyes and hearts open.  And to keep seeking until you are the one found.  It might be the gardener, or it might be a stranger with bread, but somehow, somewhere the risen Lord will make himself known to you.  You probably won’t recognize him at first, but in hindsight I am sure your heart will know the truth.  And then, like Mary, you can share your story “I have seen the Lord.”  Amen.