Good News

Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24; John 20:1-18

            It started in 1634.  The bubonic plague was ravaging Europe.  In the small Bavarian village of Oberammergau, the villagers prayed for God’s protection.  A nearby village had been depopulated to two married couples.  Everyone else died from the plague.  Oberammergau had been spared until a local man returned home from working in a nearby village.  He was infected with the plague.  According to some accounts, half the population of Oberammergau died from infection.  The villagers who survived made a vow.  If God would spare them from the plague, they would perform the Passion of Christ for the entire world.  They vowed to tell the story of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus on a world stage.  After that vow, the story goes, no one else in Oberammergau died from the plague.

            The villagers have been true to their vow for 400 years.  Beginning in 1634, they have been performing the Passion of Christ for the world every ten years.  I know some of you have seen it in person.  It requires up to 2,500 local actors.  They must be locals, natives of Oberammergau.  And they must amateurs.  That’s about half the population of the town.  Every ten years their production of the Passion of Christ draws a half million visitors from around the world.  It is in German and lasts five hours with a three hour break for dinner.  It has been cancelled only three times: once in the 1700s, once during World War II, and then in 2020 due to COVID.  The 2020 production was performed last year.  The next production will be in 2030.  I plan to be there, though I haven’t told my wife yet.

            I didn’t know this until this week.  There is another play in Oberammergau.  It is performed the year before the Passion of Christ.  It is named Die Pest, The Plague.  In this play, the villagers recall the horror of the plague and renew the vow to tell the Passion story every ten years.

            And that makes sense to me.  Doesn’t good news follow bad news?  So, they remember the horror of the plague one year—the loss of life, the hopelessness, the despair—and then the next year they celebrate the good news the resurrection—new life, hope, and joy.  Because good news follows bad news.

            Today I want us to think of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus as a drama, a play that is still unfolding before the world.  In John’s account, which is my favorite, it has three distinct scenes.  The first scene is a simple, brief introduction to Mary Magdalene and her darkness.  The second is the discovery of the empty tomb.  And then the third scene, recorded only here in John, is Jesus’ appearance to Mary, which is very dramatic.  Let’s watch this drama unfold.

Scene One: A Lone Woman in the Dark

            The curtain opens on scene one.  It is dark, early morning, John writes.  We see a lone woman, Mary Magdalene, making her way through the darkness to the tomb where Jesus’ body was laid the day before.  Let me press the pause button just for a moment.  John often uses words with layers of meaning.  For example, darkness in John’s gospel often means more than simply nighttime.  It also means spiritual darkness, hopelessness, and despair. I think John is saying two things about Mary Magdalene in this opening scene.  She was traveling before the sun came up.  It was literally nighttime.  And, Mary’s life was engulfed by bad news.  She was in darkness, sadness, and deep grief.

            John says that while Mary was in this darkness, she saw that the huge stone guarding the entrance to Jesus’ tomb had been moved.  She assumed someone had stolen the body of Jesus.  It was insult upon injury.  More bad news.  It only deepened her darkness.  Imagine scene one ending this way.  Mary stands facing us with a horrified expression on her face.  Though the first rays of sunrise are beginning to break, her face shows that her darkness has only gotten darker.  Not only was Jesus dead; someone had stolen his body.  As she turns to run and tell Peter and the beloved disciple the bad news, the curtain closes on scene one.

Scene Two: Two Disciples See for Themselves

            Scene two opens with Peter and another disciple running breathlessly to the tomb.  Tradition records that the unnamed disciple was John, but the text doesn’t say.  The unnamed disciple ran the faster than Peter and arrived at the tomb first.  John says that he looked into the empty tomb but did not enter.  Peter arrived immediately afterward.  He looked in and then entered the tomb.  When I was  in Israel in 2007, we visited a “typical” tomb.  We could walk in and stand upright.  It had multiple chambers where remains would have lain.  I’m sure we will see it again when we go back this September.

John says that after Peter entered the tomb, the other disciple also went in.  They saw the burial clothes.  John records that the unnamed disciple, upon seeing the burial clothes, “believed.”

            John lets scene two unceremoniously end this way: “Then the disciples returned to their homes.”  That’s it.  They didn’t comfort Mary.  They didn’t contact the other disciples. They just went home.  The curtain closes on scene two.

Scene Three:  Mary “Sees” Jesus

            The curtain now opens on the third and final scene. Mary is standing outside the tomb weeping. Luke records that Jesus once healed a woman: “Mary, called Magdalene.”  Luke says that she was possessed by seven demons, and Jesus healed her.  During the medieval period, traditions developed around Mary.  Some claimed that she was a prostitute, but there is no biblical support for that claim.  We do know this much: she felt a deep allegiance to Jesus.  For some reason, she was fiercely loyal to him.

            John says that Mary bent over and looked into the tomb.  She saw two angelic beings who asked why she was weeping.  She told them that someone had stolen the body of Jesus, and she did not know where they had placed it.  Then in one of the most dramatic and moving moments in the entire Bible, Mary “saw” Jesus.  One writer calls this the “theological heart” of this story.  Mary saw Jesus but didn’t really see him.  This is another of John’s writing techniques.  She saw but didn’t see.  She thought Jesus was a gardener. 

            “Woman,” Jesus asked Mary, “why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?”

            She responded, thinking she was speaking to the gardener, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”

            Okay, here it is.  The climax of this entire drama.  Jesus called her by name, “Mary!”

            She turned and in a moment of surprise recognition exclaimed, “Rabbouni!”  The word means “teacher,” and it has an exclamation point behind it.  I can imagine that she covered her mouth, then shouted the word Rabbouni and leapt into the arms of her Lord.  Jesus had to tell her not to hold onto him because his work was not yet finished.  He told her to go to “my brothers,” the disciples, and tell them the good news.  So, Mary found the disciples and shared the good news, “I have seen the Lord.” 

Here’s how I see this final scene ending.  Mary’s back is to us.  She is facing the disciples, whose eyes are open wide with astonishment.  Mary is telling them in rapid fire the details of what had just happened.  Then the curtain closes on the third and final scene of the greatest story ever told.

            The Orthodox Church has a tradition about Mary Magdalene.  According to this tradition when she went to the tomb in darkness that morning, she carried a basket of eggs with her.  The eggs were covered with a cloth, a veil.  She expected to be at the tomb for an extended period, so the eggs were her lunch.  When she finally uncovered, unveiled, the eggs, she discovered that the white eggs had turned the colors of the rainbow.

            According to the tradition, Mary was a woman of high standing. She used her wealth and influence to travel and bear witness to the risen Lord. She even gained entrance to the court of the Emperor Tiberius Caesar. When she met the Emperor, she held an egg in her hand and announced "Christos Anesti!"—Christ is risen!  The unbelieving Emperor laughed at her and said that someone rising from the dead was about as likely as the egg in her hand turning red.   Then the egg in her hand turned red, and she continued to proclaim the good news to the emperor and his household.  Orthodox pictures of Mary Magdalene often show her holding a red egg, and now it is a custom to color eggs at Easter. 

            We’ve got plenty of bad news, don’t we?  You.  Me.  Everywhere we turn.  Bad news.  Darkness.  Grief.  Despair.  That’s why we need the message of Easter: good news follows bad news.  The bad news does not get to win.  So, if you feel enveloped in darkness, I hold before you the message of Christian faith, the message of Easter.  Good news wins.  New life wins.  Hope wins.  Joy wins.  So, with Mary Magdalene and the other faithful through the ages, we exclaim today, “Christos.  Anesti!”  Christ is risen!

 Closing Prayer 

            Blessed risen Lord, we revel in the good news of this day.  We lay our darkness, our grief, before the drama of the resurrection.  Convert us as you converted Mary Magdalene.  Convert us and use us to convert the world.  Amen.