Preacher and Harvard Professor Peter Gomes tells the story of how, several years ago, he had an opportunity to meet the late Queen Mother.  That morning, they had attended the same Sunday worship service, and as they sat together afterwards, Her Majesty said to him, “Wasn’t the sermon wonderful?”  Gomes had thought the sermon was quite terrible actually, but he kept his opinion to himself and graciously responded, “Indeed it was, Ma’am.”  And then the Queen Mum, with eyes glistening and fixed right on him, said “I do like a bit of good news on Sunday, don’t you?”[1]

 

Good News.  There seems precious little of it as that first Easter Sunday dawns.  The Gospel of John tells us that Mary Magdalene goes to the tomb while it is “still dark…”  That means it is still the Sabbath.  But in the final hours of this day of rest, Mary is restless; her friend and Savior, Jesus of Nazareth, is dead.  Jesus – who had healed her of her demons, bringing her health, wholeness and peace.  Jesus – her friend when she had no other, her teacher when no one else thought her worthy.  Mary had felt his loving, affirming presence deep in her soul, and she had left her life to follow him as he spread his Good News of God’s love for all people. 

 

But on that first Easter, we can imagine Mary struggling through the shadows – the shadows not just of the night, but also of her own heart, which aches at the brutality of her friend’s death.  Try as she might, she can’t shake the Good Friday image of him hanging on the cross, brutally killed by people who felt threatened by him, by people who neither knew nor understood Him. 

 

Mary is not yet ready to say good-bye, to let Jesus go; and so, she makes her way through the dark streets of Jerusalem and the dark night of her soul to the small garden tomb where the body of her friend lies.  She comes alone in the early morning, enveloped in shadows, to remember how things used to be and will never be again. 

 

Just as the new light of day breaks over the hills, she arrives at the tomb to find that the stone has been rolled away and the grave opened.  Mary does not even bother to look inside; through the blur of her tears and the haze of her exhaustion, she can only guess that grave robbers have stolen Jesus’ body.  Long after the disciples have seen for themselves and returned home, Mary lingers outside the tomb, weeping. 

 

A man appears, but not expecting any Good News, she takes him for the gardener.  After all, she is looking for the dead, not the living.  But then he speaks: “Woman, why are you weeping?  Whom are you looking for?” and her heart leaps in recognition.  The Voice speaks again: “Mary.”  And suddenly she knows – it is him!  In that instant, everything changes.  He is alive again – the foundation and fulfillment of her hopes, the face of God turned toward her in love.  Where there was darkness, now there is light.  Where there was despair, now there is hope.  Where there was death, now there is life.  Good news, wonderful news, joyous news!

 

In her elation, Mary reaches out to touch Jesus – and his response to her is gentle but firm.  “Do not hold on to me.”  He tells her to let go – not only of him, but also of the past.  Don’t dwell on what has happened or on the way things were before.  Jesus makes clear that new life does not mean a return to what was, but instead means moving on, moving forward to what can be.

 

So many of us are like Mary.  We, too, walk in the darkness as she did, stumbling in the shadows of separation, sadness, suffering.  We, too, carry around grief and regret in our souls; the weight of our own actions and the bad choices we have made; the wounds of pain inflicted by others; the brokenness of illness and loss. 

 

So many of us are stuck in Good Friday.  And all too often, we — like Mary — linger at the tombs of our failures and disappointments, bewildered and paralyzed, unable to move beyond the fear and despair in our lives.  When Mary finally recognizes her beloved teacher, she reaches out to him, wanting to hold on, but he tells her that she must let go of the old life so new life can take place. 

 

It can be hard for us to get past our Good Fridays to the joy of Easter Sunday.  And it can be hard for our rational, sensible minds to comprehend the Resurrection.  We understand Good Friday, because we know that people die, but not so the Resurrection.  And so we settle for one-dimensional images and symbols of Easter, like bunnies, chicks, and eggs so we don’t have to deal with the mystery of the empty tomb.  But when we do, we miss out on the Good News.

 

Because Easter is not about proving the mystery of the event that happened 2000 years ago.  Easter is about how we live today.  It’s about living the mystery of the Gospel which liberates us from our tombs of depression, shame, guilt, despair, regret, denial and loss.  It is about rolling away what locks us up and blocks us from wholeness. 

 

And so, do you want a bit of Good News this Easter Sunday?  Here it is.  Because Jesus Christ rose from the dead, we, too, can know Easter joy after the sorrows of our own Good Friday experiences. 

 

Easter happens every time a glimmer of hope breaks through the darkness of our despair.  Easter happens every time the light of God’s healing love carries us out of the shadows of loss and grief and disappointment.  Easter happens every time we can find the courage to let go, to stop clinging to the past, and turn toward the new life of the future. 

 

Easter is the loving and gracious act of a God who defies inevitability and redefines possibility.  It shows us a God who refuses to accept what is and who continues to make all things new. 

 

Easter invites us to look for life in unexpected places; it bids us to see in the dead corners of our lives how God is working to bring new life.  With “Easter eyes” we can look at tragedy, at disappointment, at rejection and heartbreak to discover that they’re not the ends we thought they’d be.  We can look at our failures and our defeats and discover that God isn’t yet finished with us.  We can look at our losses and find that God has more to give us.  And we can look at death itself and know by the grace of God, it isn’t the last word.

 

Easter gives us the Risen Christ, who turns despair into hope, hatred into love, sorrow into joy, and death into life.  And on this Sunday, that is indeed Good News!  Alleluia and Amen!