Sermon Recording

Astronomers have found an enormous empty place in the universe. A massive void.

This hole is gigantic, nearly a billion light-years across. Inside it there are no planets, no stars, no galaxies, no gases. It’s just a huge cold spot.

A whole lotta nothing.

I’ve always enjoyed looking up at the stars, an interest I inherited from my father, a NASA scientist. And it has always stretched and even boggled my mind to think of the incredible distances between stars in the sky. You might be aware that a light-year is a unit of distance — it’s the distance that light can travel in one year. One light-year equals about 6 trillion miles. Quite a distance.

So how far away are the stars in the sky? Our nearest neighbor is a star called Proxima Centauri. It’s about four light-years away. 25 trillion miles.

And how about that massive void, that huge cold spot in the sky? It’s between six and 10 billion light-years away from us, and it is nearly a billion light-years across. My tiny head cannot even begin to comprehend a hole that gigantic. It’s been described as a big bubble in the cosmic pancake batter.

A massive void. No planets, no stars, no galaxies, no gasses. Absolutely nothing.

On Easter morning, Mary Magdalene encountered a massive void when she arrived at the tomb, one that was as mind-boggling as anything at the edge of the universe. John tells us that it was still dark when she arrived and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb, “so she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said, ‘They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him!’” (John 20:2).

Can you imagine how empty Mary is feeling at this point? She has already suffered the crucifixion of her friend and teacher Jesus, and is mourning his death deeply. Now she goes to his tomb to pay her respects, and what does she find? Nothing. A huge cold spot.

She makes the logical assumption that his body has been stolen, and reports this crime to Simon Peter and another disciple. The two men run to the tomb, and the second disciple outruns Peter, reaches the tomb, bends down to look in — he sees nothing but “the linen wrappings lying there” (v. 5). Then Peter arrives and barges into the tomb, spotting the linen wrappings and also “the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself” (v. 7).

The evidence before them is not consistent with a grave robbery, since robbers would have taken the wrappings along with the body. But the disciples cannot imagine that Jesus has been raised — John tells us that “they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead” (v. 9). So they head home, feeling empty.

We know what this feels like, don’t we? Each of us, at some time in life, comes face to face with a massive void.

- It happens when you give your heart to someone, and they don’t accept the gift.
- It happens when you learn a sport, practice hard, and still don’t make the team.
- It happens when you study and pursue a profession, only to find you hate your work.
- It happens when you create something beautiful, and discover that no one’s interested.
- It happens when you try to resist a temptation, but mess up again and again.
- It happens when you jump to a new job, then lose it in a downsizing.
- It happens when you put money into a home, only to see your equity disappear.
- It happens when you retire from a long career, and wake up with nothing to do.
- It happens when you lose a spouse to cancer, and find yourself all alone in the world.

These are huge cold spots. Massive voids.

Feeling empty, Mary does what any of us would do — she stands weeping outside the tomb (v. 11). Her world feels like a billion light-years of empty space. But it is to Mary’s credit that she takes the time to grieve. Because Mary has stayed beside the tomb, instead of rushing home like the two men, she puts herself in a position to discover something truly amazing.

I think this is an important point for us today. So often we try to pretend that there are no massive voids in our lives, no empty places. A sociologist named Jean Twenge observes that young adults in particular have been told things such as “believe in yourself and you can do anything” — which is really not very good advice. The truth is, bad things can happen to good people, and not every goal in life is realistic. You may believe that you’re going to earn a graduate degree and get a great job, along with a perfect family in a beautifully decorated home, but life doesn’t always give you what you want. Twenge thinks that overblown expectations are largely to blame for the recent rise in anxiety and depression in young adults. She says, “It’s depressing to realize that your unrealistic dreams are never going to come true.”

We are all going to face some empty places in life, and we need to take them seriously. You cannot expect to step into a dream job right out of college. Most of us are going to endure a lot of heartbreak before we find a partner for life. Loss and rejection are a part of just about every life story you can imagine. I’ve been writing articles and essays for various publications for over 20 years now, and I still get rejected. A lot.

These losses have to be taken seriously, and they have to be grieved. I’m not going to stand here and tell you that the key to life is positive thinking. That’s not realistic. It’s not honest. It’s not healthy. And it’s not biblical.

Mary is taking her loss very seriously as she stands weeping beside the tomb. Because of this, she is in a good position to come and see what God is going to do with this empty space in her life. You might recall that Jesus began his ministry by inviting two potential disciples to “come and see” what he was doing (John 1:39). This was a wonderful invitation, one that the followers of Jesus responded to all throughout his ministry. Even here, Mary is responding to this invitation to “come and see.” She first looked into the empty tomb and saw a massive void. Now she looks into the tomb and sees … angels.

She sees two angels, “sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet” (20:11b-12). Now I think it is safe to say that this is the very last thing that Mary expects to see. God has stunned her by inserting something into the massive void of the empty tomb — a couple of angels — but she still doesn’t know what is going on. Like Peter, she still doesn’t grasp that Jesus “must rise from the dead” (v. 9).

It is so like God to surprise us with gifts that confound our expectations.

- Mary wants to see the body of Jesus; instead she sees two angels.
- The apostles desire safety and security; what they get is the gift of the Holy Spirit.
- A man named Saul attacks the first Christians, and finds himself turned upside down by the call of the Risen Jesus.
- A Presbyterian church is established in Fairfax, and becomes “a house of prayer for all peoples.”
- A family comes to FPC in search of a preschool, and ends up finding a caring church family.
- A visitor walks into worship, feeling burdened by guilt, and discovers that Christ forgives the most difficult sins.
- A teenager attends youth fellowship for the fun, and is surprised to learn that she is loved unconditionally by God.
- A group of Midlife Men go to Honduras to help the poor, and come back feeling that they are the ones who have really been helped.
- A woman joins the FPC sewing group to make clothes, and develops a deep bond with a community of AIDS orphans in South Africa.

God can give us many things to fill the voids in our lives. Usually, they confound our expectations, and involve gifts that we never could have predicted.

But the surprises aren’t over, at least for Mary. She turns around and sees Jesus standing there, but she does not know that it is Jesus (v. 14). This has always seemed odd to me, that Mary would not recognize one of her closest friends. Some scholars say that her vision is clouded by her tears, or that the early morning light is making it difficult to see, but I don’t buy these explanations. The plain message of the scripture is that Jesus doesn’t look the same, which is why Mary thinks he is the gardener (v. 15).

Then Jesus says, “Mary!” … and she recognizes him. It is not his appearance that reveals his identity to her, but instead it is his personal word. She turns and calls him “Teacher,” and he responds with a command, “Go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God” (vv. 16-17).

This is not a Hollywood ending to the story of Easter morning. If this were being shown in the multiplex, there would be a tearful embrace between Jesus and Mary and the swell of violins on the movie soundtrack. But God likes to surprise us with gifts that confound our expectations. In this case, the Risen Jesus reveals himself with a word, and then issues a command. He fills the massive void of Mary’s life by speaking her name and giving her a job to do. “Go,” he says. “Go to my brothers” and tell them that I am alive.

A personal word, and then a command. This is how Jesus reveals himself to Mary, and it is how he reveals himself to us. The fact is, Jesus is not going to come to us today in flowing robes, looking like a first-century rabbi. Instead, he is going to approach us in a variety of disguises, in the form of our friends, our co-workers, our neighbors, and our fellow members of FPC. He is going to be wealthy and homeless, young and old, immigrant and native-born, black and brown and white and yellow. When it comes to recognizing Jesus, the message of the Bible is that you cannot trust your eyes.

Then, when we least expect it, Jesus will reveal himself with a personal word and a command. The personal word will be one that speaks to our hearts, showing that he knows us, loves us, forgives us, and accepts us for who we are. It will be a word that reminds us that we are not alone in this world, but that we are connected to the Body of Christ, the Christian community, the living presence of Jesus in the world today. Then, when we know that we are known and loved, we will hear a command — one that will be exactly what each of us needs to hear. It might be:

A command to make peace with a relative that you have been feuding with for years.
A command to stand up to injustice in your workplace or community.
A command to join a mission team, repairing a home through Rebuilding Together.
A command to mentor a youth, teach a child, or counsel a homeless family.
A command to go and tell others what the resurrection means to you.

It was this last command that Jesus gave to Mary, and she responded.. She went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord” (v. 18) — and as she did this, she became the first apostle, the first one sent to deliver the good news of the resurrection. The empty space in her life was suddenly filled, because she had seen the Risen Jesus, and responded by doing what he asked of her.

If you are feeling a massive void in your life, I predict that the very same will be true for you. Your emptiness will not be eliminated by a new career, a new spouse, a new house, a new car, a better salary. Instead, the hole in your life can be filled only by hearing Christ’s word to you, and responding to his command.

The good news of Easter is that Christ is risen! He has been raised from the dead, and is calling to you. Amen.

Sources:
Kaufman, Mark, “Astronomers find massive void,” The Washington Post, August 27, 2007, A6.
Vencat, Emily Flynn, “Narcissists in neverland,” Newsweek Web Exclusive, October 16, 2007, Newsweek.com.