John 20:1-18, Luke 13:6-9
Introduction
When Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance, what did she do? She reacted. She responded. She took action. She ran—to tell, to give witness to something that had happened… to something that was happening. And conversely, what she didn’t do was nothing.
The stone had been removed. The tomb was empty. It was now the first Easter morning. And Mary was motivated…moved…inspired…driven to respond and take action. And so she ran. Mary ran to Simon Peter and to John telling them the news of what she had seen—and they too reacted, responded, and took action. They too ran to see, to witness.
We often think of the first Easter morning as a time of calm reflection, contemplative meditation, and quiet tears. But as we read, and see in our minds eye, that first Easter was a morning of emotion, intensity, and action. And though this morning involved a lot of running, we have come to learn Easter—and all that happens before and after— is never a sprint. It’s a marathon.
Move 1
Tomorrow the 126th running of the Boston Marathon will be held, with nearly 30 thousand runners who will fill and traverse the roads between Hopkinton, Massachusetts, and the finish line on Boylston Street in Boston’s Copley Square. And some 500,000 spectators will take it all in from popular spots like Wellesley College’s “scream tunnel” and Newton’s 20-mile mark “Heartbreak Hill.”
Today, however, April 17, is a historic day for the Boston Marathon. Exactly 50 years ago, April 17, 1972 the Boston Marathon finally allowed women to run. Eight women ran that race fifty years ago, and Nina Kuscsik emerged from the field to win the women’s race, and all completed the 26.2 mile run. But for its first 75 years the Boston Marathon did not allow women to run. They were underestimated, ignored and shut out because race officials believed the distance was too much for “fragile women.”
However this had already been proved wrong. In 1966 Roberta Gibb became the first woman to run the full Boston Marathon. She couldn’t get an official race number, so she hid in some bushes near the starting line and then jumped into the race when it began. A year later, in 1967, Kathrine Switzer registered for the marathon as K.V. Switzer, not identifying herself as a woman. When she began to run, race officials tried to remove her from the marathon—one of them even grabbing her by the shoulders and trying to rip off her bib number, but her boyfriend and other runners thwarted that effort, and Switzer went on to finish the race. Only when the Amateur Athletics Union accepted women into long-distance running did Boston open the race to them. And ever since women have been running in marathons around the world.
*******
Just as 1972 was a turning point for female marathoners, Easter morning was a turning point for the followers of Jesus— and among them were women.
Until this time at the tomb Mary Magdalene wasn’t mentioned much in the Gospel of John. But on that first Easter morning Mary Magdalene slips into the race, finally getting to make a meaningful appearance in this marathon even though she had been present during Jesus’ ministry.
Like Roberta Gibb popping out from some bushes, or Kathrine Switzer, running as K.V. Switzer, Mary Magdalene makes a groundbreaking appearance. Early on the first day of the week, while it is still dark, Mary comes to the tomb—the first of Jesus’ followers to make this trip. She arrives before Peter… before John… before any others. She witnessed that something had happened— something was happening. The whole future history was about to be forever changed—and Mary was sensing it. And because she did she now had a choice to make. Do something. Tell others what she witnessed. Or… do nothing. Mary made her choice. Like a runner training for a marathon, she hits the road… and she runs… she takes action… she does something.
Move 2
At the beginning of the season the Worship Team chose for our guiding Lenten theme “Cultivating and Letting Go” as a means for us to consider what in our lives needs cultivating so good fruit can grow and flourish, while also considering what we need to let go of for such growth and transformation to happen. As part of this theme was the story of the fruitless fig tree. Though we’ve heard the text from the Gospel of Luke a couple times this season, let us hear it again, and let us see it again as well, and consider once more what we need to cultivate, and what we need to let go of.
[*The following is a verbatim of the narration in the video being shown on the screens]
In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus tells a story of a fruitless fig tree once planted with promise, only to grow barren and brittle. The landowner in the parable has returned to its empty branches for three years. With patience worn thin and hope withered, he commands the gardener to cut it down, seeing it as a liability to the soil. But where the landowner sees waste, the gardener perceives possibility that lies fallow. The gardener has learned from the land that life flows in cycles—budding, flourishing, pruning, death. And so he requests one more year.
Cutting the earth with a shovel, he loosens the clots that have settled like stone so that when water comes, the earth will receive it like a soft kiss. He blankets the roots with manure so that growth can be steadied by hope. And then he lets go. What happens to the fig tree? Does it live? Does it die? Does it bear any fruit? We don’t know.
And so, if we can’t read the end of this story, then we must write it with our own lives. Because we know what it feels like to be the fig tree, to be deemed worthless, to be weary enough to believe that we don’t deserve to be well. And perhaps we also know what it’s like to see the world through the eyes of the landowner—calculating worth based on what we produce, what we accomplish, what we provide. Can we cultivate the vision of the Great Gardener, the One who sees you for what you are becoming? The one who tends and prunes, nourishes and lets go? Perhaps for us, the fruit is not the ending. The fruit is in the waiting, in the dead of winter, in the manure; the nurture, the rest, the darkness. The fruit is in all of it, sowing seeds we can’t yet see.
*******
“What happens to the fig tree? Does it live? Does it die? Does it bear any fruit? We don’t know. And so, if we can’t read the end of this story, then we must write it with our own lives.”
This parable Jesus told lingers large on Easter—both this Easter and on that first Easter because the resurrection means everything has changed, everything is different…and it means we now have a choice. What will we do because of Easter? What in us will be different? How will we react and respond? Who will we tell? What actions will we take? Or… will we do nothing?
Move 3
On that first Easter morning the Gospel tells us John and Peter “did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead” (v. 9). John and Peter see the empty tomb and believe, but then Peter and John return to their homes. They are done running…for now. But Mary, even though she is weeping, she does not drop out of this marathon. Looking into the tomb, she sees two angels who ask why she is weeping. She tells them she is weeping because someone has taken away her Lord. A moment later, she turns, sees a man she assumes is the gardener, and says to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”
For Mary, Easter morning begins not with joy, but with weeping and struggle. She is hitting Heartbreak Hill at mile 20 of the Boston Marathon—struggling with doubt and uncertainty, being challenged by an immensity unlike any she had ever encountered. And it’s then Jesus—the gardener who is perceived to be a gardener—calls to her by name… “Mary.” And there— in the middle of her pain and struggle—Jesus reveals he sees her for who she is and it becomes the moment when Mary decides how the parable Jesus told would end for her. She now knows no matter what comes to her—her Lord, her Savior, her gardener would always be there, doing everything he can, so she can grow and bear fruit—fruit not just for her, but fruits of faith and witness and belief and trust and experience for all. And with these fruits she chose what she will do—give and share this Good News with others over and over again.
Jesus says to Mary, “Go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” Jesus is saying to her: “Run, Mary! Run and tell. React, respond, take action, do something to tell and show others what the gardener has done for you, and for all.” She goes and announces to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord.” She tells them what Jesus has said to her. Although she had been struggling at mile 20, Mary now flies past mile 26.2, carrying forward the message that she has seen the risen Jesus—and because she has everything changes.
Conclusion
Cultivating. Letting Go. That has been our Lenten focus. And now it’s Easter. Now we, like Mary and the Disciples have arrived at the tomb. We are at mile 20, Heartbreak Hill—and we have a choice. Will we react, respond, take action…or will we drop out of the race and do nothing?
Like Mary, we have encountered the Gardener who has been intervening on our behalf, making possible a second chance to grow and bear good fruit. But the parable—our fig tree/marathon parable—is still unfinished. The Gardener perceived possibilities in us; cut and loosened the dirt that had become like stone; watered our roots like a soft kiss, and gave us fertile ground in which to grow. And then he let go.
What happens next is up to us. It’s our choice. Will we chose to grow? Will we react, respond, take action? Will we run? Or will we do nothing?
Just like today marks a milestone anniversary for women who run, Easter marks the same kind of anniversary. Easter is an invitation to women and men—to all people no matter gender, age, race, sexual orientation, abilities or limitations—to keep running this marathon-parable of reacting, responding, taking action— to tell others “I have seen the Lord.” “I have seen the Gardener, and I know what he has done—for me and in me. And everything is going to be different.”
So what will we do for having seen the Lord, for having seen the Gardener? Will we, like Mary…run and bear fruit? Or will we do nothing? The choice of how the parable, and the marathon, ends, is up to us. Happy Easter. Amen.
Pastoral Prayer, April 17, 2022 Easter Sunday
Holy God, today we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus the Christ.
And because we do, we celebrate life and new life— we celebrate hope, peace, joy, and love; we celebrate the possibilities you see in us; we celebrate the chance to choose you and your life giving grace and forgiveness, for these are the gifts made possible by Christ’s victory over sin and death. The resurrection bears witness to your power to see even in death the gate to eternal life.
So like a painter with a canvas, like a runner striving to run farther and faster, we long to give you our very best, to bear fruit in this world worthy of the life you once again assure this day.
We come to you on this day of resurrection like Mary seeking out your son and finds that your work is not done, but only just beginning—and so she takes action, she runs, she tells, she shares with others what has happened, and what is happening.
So, like Mary was met, meet us, and cultivate in us a persistent energy to share the Good News that we have seen the Lord.
Cultivate in us a resilient determination to do something, to share with others—in word and in deed—that because of that first Easter, and every Easter since—everything has changed for the better.
Cultivate in us the truth that all are freed from sin through grace, and the possibilities for new life abound for all your children.
Cultivate in us the heart to claim one another—even when we come from different places, people, religions, political opinions, or beliefs—because through your Son we are made one in the body.
Cultivate in us, Holy God, the meaning and message and power of Easter. May it be rooted deep within our spirits, and may we share its fruit with all.
We ask you would listen now to the prayers of our hearts as we share them in this time of Holy Silence.
All this we pray in the name of Christ Jesus, our risen Lord and Savior, who taught us to pray, saying, “Our…”