Easter 2015 Mark 16.1-8
… go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee
We know this story well, don’t we. But there are always things in it that make us do a double-take, and for me, the last verse we just heard one of them. The young man in the empty tomb says the women should go [and] tell [Jesus’] disciples and Peter that [Jesus] is going ahead of [them] to Galilee … and Peter!? —Wasn’t he counted as one of Jesus’ disciples any more? Why wouldn’t he be? Let’s look back for a moment and see.
Last Sunday, in the passion story we read together, you’ll remember Jesus and Peter arguing about whether he’d deny Jesus three times. Jesus provoked that argument when he said, 14.27 “You will all become deserters; … 28 But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.”
Today, we heard the young man in the tomb tell the three women; 16.7 … go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; you’ll see him there, just as he told you.”
So today, we’re being deliberately taken back to that particular moment in the story when Jesus said “You will all become deserters”. Remember how Peter rose to the challenge: “Even though all become deserters, I will not.” … “Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you.”
Well we all know the story; Peter did deny knowing Jesus—three times, as predicted. And the third time, he didn’t just say ‘I don’t know Jesus’; he swore an oath that he didn’t know him—almost as though he was divorcing Jesus. Maybe the others knew Peter had done this. Had they written him off?
Whether or not they had, the words of the young man at the tomb this morning tell us that Jesus certainly hadn’t. Jesus was calling Peter back to start again at that point, as if nothing had happened since; a clean slate.
16.7 … go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.”
Jesus points straight back to that moment where Peter had been so strong and loyal, back to the time before his denials, and offers him a new start.
It is so delicate; so gentle. Can you imagine Jesus being resurrected and rolling away the stone and everything and still thinking to leave such a kind, healing message for Peter with that young man.
7 … go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” 8 So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.
There’s one other quirky bit to this story. The three women were told to pass on the message, but the gospel ends by telling us that they fled from the tomb,… and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.
If that were the end of the story, Peter wouldn’t have gone on to serve Jesus as he did, and in fact, finally honour those words he blurted out to Jesus, “Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you.” The three women were obviously given a new beginning too. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here, would we? But the message to us is also one we have to note well. In every generation, Jesus makes new beginnings possible.
This delicate, gentle, matter-of-fact offer of a new beginning to Peter points to the absolutely central, unique mark of the Christian faith; forgiveness. Christianity began with God’s most wonderful act of forgiveness; the Cross and the Empty Tomb. The Cross wiped the slate clean, and the Empty Tomb announced that new beginnings were open for business, effective immediately.
We respond to this in the Easter Vigil. We go back to our beginnings with Jesus and re-affirm our baptismal covenant with him. Because, as Peter discovered, we are a people of new beginnings.
We may have broken our baptismal promises a thousand times. We may have publicly renounced Jesus. Yet we believe in new beginnings—new birth; revival, new life—because resurrection doesn’t just tell us it’s possible; resurrection is who we are.
We are the body of Christ, and Christ is risen, Alleluia!
Kids—I want you to imagine yourselves inside an egg, not yet hatched.
Tell me about the world you know. What’s the furthest thing from you? What’s hot; what’s cold?
Now, everybody on this side, start to break your shell open and HATCH. Quickly, tell me—are you in a new world?
What do you see? Do you believe your eyes? Are you frightened?
Let’s ask someone else. What’s a someone else? It’s someone like you, but different—but of course, you didn’t know that. Let’s ask them.
Do you see what they do? …
Back to the first one; Now you’ve heard someone else, and they’ve seen it all too. Is it easier for you to believe what you see now?
Are you hungry? Can you see any food anywhere? There it is; eat up.
Just a moment; look over there; those are eggs that haven’t hatched. Other ones like you will come out soon. What will they need to know when they come out? Can you help them? Can you look after them?