The Rev. David L. Hansen

Easter Sunday, 2010

John 20:1-19

By Name

In 1942, as our country was gearing up for the second world war, one of our submarines suffered a malfunction and found itself stuck on the bottom of the New York City harbor. It seemed that all was lost. There was no electricity.  Oxygen was quickly running out.

In one last attempt to rescue the sailors from the steel coffin, the Navy sent a ship equipped with divers to the spot on the surface, directly above the wounded submarine. A diver went over the side of the ship to the dangerous depths in one last rescue attempt. The trapped sailors heard the metal boots of the diver land on the exterior surface, and they moved to where they thought the rescuer would be. In the darkness they tapped in Morse code, "Is there any hope?"  (1)

We’ve all been there before.  Stuck at the bottom, gasping for air.  Feeling as though there is no hope left.

Trapped.  Trying not to panic from the stress of it all.

I don’t know about you, but my life has been to that place far too many times.  And that is exactly where this day begins.  With Mary.  In the darkness, wondering if there is any hope left.

Poor Mary Magdalene.

She had followed Jesus, sat at his feet, been his friend and student.  She had believed that he was the Messiah.  And then …

And then her own people had turned against him.  You should have heard the things that they said about him.

And then, she – along with his mother and John – were the only ones to stand there and watch.  It was horrific.  The cross, the nails, the beatings.  It still made her sick just to think about it.  But they couldn’t leave him – not at the one time that he needed them most.

All day yesterday had been spent in tears.  Weeping for what was.  Weeping for what might have been.  Unable to really believe that he was gone, the grief hitting her fresh every time.  She was at the bottom of the barrel; the end of her rope; the end of hope. 

Is there any hope?

And then, this morning, the last preparations.  The last goodbye.

They went to the tomb.  They brought what was needed to finish the burial.

And – how horrible!  They had taken his body!

Was it the Romans?  The Pharisees?  Wasn’t it enough that they had killed him, mocked and insulted him?

Now this????

At times in our all of our lives, there is a certain hopelessness.  Times when you just want to say, “Ok, life – you win.  I’m done.”  When it feels like there is nothing that could bring us back.  Nothing that could turn things around.  Nothing that could make it better.

When it is darker than dark.

When it is deeper than deep.

When we are at the end of our rope.

At the end of hope.

And that’s where Mary was. In the darkest of darknesses.  In the deepest of deeps.  Without a hope.  Without a prayer.  Only frustration, anger, sadness, and grief.

When she sees someone …

Maybe he knows!  Maybe he saw what happened to the body.  She wouldn’t even be angry anymore, she just wants to know.  She just wants to say her final good-bye, give him the burial he deserves.

So she asks … And then …

Through the darkness.  Through the despair.

All the way to the bottom.  Comes a quiet, but firm voice.

“Mary.”

And everything is changed.

He is alive!  He is here! He has found me! He has come through the darkest of darks, and he has found me.

And he has called me, by name.  By my own name.

Everything is changed.

Darkness becomes light.

Sadness becomes joy.

Grief becomes rejoicing.

Anger becomes love.

Death becomes life.

This changes everything.

That is the power of this day.  That was the power of that first Easter morning for Mary, when she heard her name.  And that is what Easter means for you, today.

It doesn’t matter what your troubles are. I don’t care where life finds you. It could be the darkest of darks. It could be the deepest of deeps. It could be the end of the line, the place where all you can do is give up hope.

None of it is worse than what happened on Friday, and Jesus has conquered death itself.

Wherever you are, Jesus will come to you.  He will come through the darkest of darks, and he will find you.  He will come down to the deepest of deeps, and he will find you.  He will even travel through death itself, and he will find you.

And he will call you by name.  By your precious name.

And that changes everything.

Darkness becomes light.

Sadness becomes joy.

Grief becomes rejoicing.

Anger becomes love.

Death becomes life.

When we hear that name, we know that, Yes! There is hope!  Always, forever, there is and there will be hope.

Christ is risen – death is conquered.

Christ is risen – hell is defeated.

Christ is risen – and no troubles on earth can hold us down for long.

Christ is alive, and he is going to change the world.

And he is going to start with us.  He is calling us by name, and that changes everything.

Alleluia. Christ is risen.

Christ is risen indeed.

(1)  Illustration from William L. Self, “Is There Any Hope?”; http://day1.org/1037-is_there_any_hope