When I was a teenager in high school, I used to take the bus across town to visit my grandmother on Saturdays. By then, she was living in a nursing home, and had completely lost her sight. She also didn’t speak very much English, and so she had two very serious barriers that kept her separated from most of her world. Fortunately, there were some nurses and housekeepers who spoke Spanish and they were very kind to her and would talk to her and keep her company when they could. It was very good for her to have people talk to her in her language so that she didn’t have the whole world pass her by. She did have a radio, and it went with her everywhere. She would listen to Spanish radio stations so that she could hear her language and understand at least some of what was going on around her.
I didn’t speak much Spanish, but I spoke just enough… I certainly understood more Spanish than I could speak, and so when I went to see her I mostly listened to her stories, which she told with great joy. I remember walking onto the floor where her room was, on many a Saturday, and her nurses would point me in the direction of the activity room. As I stood in the doorway, I would see my grandmother across the room… she was tiny… I don’t think she was 5 feet tall then… she wore her steel gray hair in a bun… and as always, she had her radio close by her ear so she could hear the news or music. She had to keep the volume low so as not to disturb other residents. So, I would walk across the room, with her very sweet, very milky coffee that she loved, and some batteries for the radio. I would approach quietly, and gently touch her shoulder, saying, “Abuelita?” , a term of endearment that means little grandmother…When she heard my voice, it was as if everything changed…. This lonely little woman would smile so big, take my hand and kiss it, and say, “Ay, la nena!!” I was the only grandchild who called her abuelita, and I was the only one she used the term of endearment, la nena with… I loved her dearly, and I hope that I was able to bring her some joy in a time of her life that was mostly filled with darkness and loneliness…
That quiet whisper of my name for her broke through all the barriers that the world has set up between her and people that she loved. When she told her stories, her face looked as though she could see once again… it was truly beautiful…
This morning’s story starts in darkness…. Mary Magdalene goes to the tomb of Jesus, her beloved friend and teacher. She goes to grieve, and to try and sort out the last few days. Days of darkness, days of fear… I imagine that fear was everywhere as she and his other disciples must have wondered what would happen next… and now he is gone… she tells the others who don’t seem to have any answers, and she returns to grieve again… someone must have taken him… wasn’t killing him enough? All of their hopes died with him on Friday on that horrible cross… and now in a final act of hatred and disrespect, they must have taken his body away… how much more cruel could these people be? Surely he couldn’t threaten their fragile egos anymore….
She sees the gardner… at least that’s what she thinks… blinded by her grief, blinded by her tears, she doesn’t recognize the reality that is in front of her… and then she hears a voice speak her name… Mary… and suddenly, the world and everything in it is different. Everything she thought she knew was changed; every barrier that stood between her and God and life were gone…not only can she hear him… she can see him… everything he said about rising from the dead…. All of it was true… in that small moment of love and familiarity, she knew that Jesus was alive… and she runs to tell the others, to proclaim the good news that Jesus has risen from the dead, just as he had promised…
This morning, we stand in the garden at the tomb with Mary, and her joy is our joy… the truth of his resurrection is the truth that we proclaim this day. All of the suffering, all of the death dealing circumstances of his journey to Jerusalem, all of the suffering and death dealing circumstances of our lives, are now brought into the light of this morning with the proclamation that he is risen. The God of history, the God who has acted within human life and experience has acted once again to show the world what love looks like; one name, spoken in the darkness, changes everything about the world and everyone in it… Joy wins over fear, love wins over hate, life wins over death… Jesus has conquered all of it to rise again, and to give us the gift of eternal life with him… even death, cannot separate us from the love of God…
Today… we know… today we hear his voice as Mary did, and we know deep in our hearts and souls… Love brings us pure joy and it brings us knowledge of who God is, as our relationship to the God of love is made new by this ultimate act of love…
In Jesus God has entered into human life… he has entered into all of human life; the good, the bad, the wonderful and the awful… he has entered into our happiness and into our suffering… There is nowhere that you or I can go where Jesus is not… he loves us enough to be with us, and to make our lives matter… he loves us enough to conquer death once and for all; he loves us enough to join us to God’s life forever… like Mary on that dark morning so long ago, he calls our name… if we listen carefully, we can hear him call us in love… all of his promises have come true… for Mary, for my abuelita, for me, for you… with joy, we proclaim the good news of Easter day, just as Mary has…. May we say with confidence, that we have seen the Lord… May we see him… truly see him, in our lives and in each other… May we proclaim with joy that every barrier has been taken down between us and the God of Love… everything is different… Alleluia, Christ is Risen!