“The Great Stone”
“The Great Stone”
John 20.1-18
John 20.1-18
In the name of the Living God and the crucified Christ. Amen.
Christ is risen. He is risen indeed, alleluia.
During our Lenten journey together, we’ve been following the account of Jesus through “Objects of the Passion”—specific, historic items mentioned by the gospel witnesses. We started with the Cross on Ash Wednesday—an instrument of pain and shame—but now conclude here on Easter Sunday with the largest, most imposing item, “The Great Stone.”
Like all the items in our series, the Great Stone is referenced outside of the New Testament and so is grounded in history. Graves in the ancient world commonly had large stones rolled in front of their entrances in order to keep grave robbers out… and the stench of decomposition in. In the case of Jesus’ own body, a secret disciple, Joseph of Arimathea, a man of great wealth and religious learning, shows his love for the Lord by giving him a slot in his own family burial vault. The gospel accounts describe in some detail the stone being rolled in front of the tomb, and a seal—we think either wax or clay—securing the entrance. No chance any of Jesus’ disciples would get away with stealing the Lord’s body!
Of course, we know they didn’t—and they wouldn’t—because they’re all so gripped by disappointment, disillusionment, and the dark reality of death. So paralyzed are they by fear that every gospel witness to the hurried, scurried events of Easter morning is unanimous in this assessment: none of them expected the resurrection. Though the Lord had promised death would not be the end, they all remained caught in this world’s vicious inevitable cycle: we live, we die, that’s it.
Mary Magdalene too, as she labors in love before dawn to do one last act of devotion to the one who so changed her life—Mary too is expecting only to find death. Seven demons he drove from her; cleansed her from top to bottom; restored and renewed her; gave her new meaning and purpose as none other could or ever would—but even she could not believe that there would be anything else but a dead body, in the place of the dead, of a dead-end world.
The Great Stone, several tons in weight, rolled over the mouth of tomb, though a historic feature, is emblematic of something greater. It serves as a metaphor. Mary and every one of Jesus’ disciples still held onto death when the sun broke onto the Judean hills that first easter morn. The stone meant for them, still in their unbelief, the great reality that death shuts in, seals off life. That there are some things just too big, too imposing, too consequential for the words and promises of God. Sealed securely in that tomb was more than their master, teacher, and friend. His death meant for them that hope had died, and love too.
That’s why Mary didn’t believe when she first awoke that morning. She doesn’t believe when the great stone was rolled away. She doesn’t believe when she sees the angels, one at the head and one at the feet. She’s doesn’t believe even when she sees Jesus, or when he asks her why she’s weeping. She can’t see through her tears that the Lord of life stands right before her.
But then he speaks her name, “Mary…” In that moment, all the questions and fears and confusion melted away, because it became real and personal. The Lord loved her too, as he loved all the others, and no Great Stone or “Great Truth” about death could keep him from her. He had promised he would take care of them to the very end, and that a larger, more wonderful plan was being “rolled out.” He wasn’t just “the way, the truth and the life,” but was all these things for her, for them, and this morning for you.
I could spend some time in the details of the Great Stone rolled away—angels bright as lighting, earthquakes rumbling, soldiers scurrying in fear—but these are just the “secondary causes” of what happened that Easter morning. What’s really behind it all is what’s behind the whole universe and behind our witness today. The God of power and love and truth lives in the person and work of the Jesus Messiah, and no great stone—literal, spiritual, emotional—will thwart his victorious rule and reign.
This God of power and love, who spoke into our world as the word made flesh and spoke to Mary through her tears that Easter Sunday, speaks your name this morning too. I know it’s hard to believe. There’s a lot going on that tells you otherwise—things in our dead-end world, things in your life, things in your own inward self and soul. Lots of “Great Truths” out there and within yourself like the Great Stone, shutting-in, sealing-off life and love and hope.
But our witness together this morning is no less valid or vivid than St. John’s gospel witness—filled with eyewitness details—for we bear witness with our own lives and voices that Jesus the Lord rolls every stone away. He makes good on every promise. Like when he said, “I am the resurrection and the life” (John 11.25). Or when he said, “On the third day I will arise” (Mark 10.34). Or when he said, “I will not leave you as orphans” (John 14.18). Or when he said, “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you” (John 15.9). Or when he said, “And surely, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28.20). Every promise he ever spoke could have been, would have been crushed, rolled over, shut in and sealed off, had they found his dead body in that tomb that morning.
But nothing lay in the cold crypt but the grave clothes, and countless eyewitnesses gave their lives for the “Greatest Truth”: that death could not defeat the son of God. We worship this morning with them, and all those we know and love who stand around the throne as living witnesses to the truth that death could not seal off life.
Be freed from this world’s vicious cycle of “We live, we die, that’s it”. Roll the stone away from the tomb. (Ask for some help for some angels around here if you need to!) The Lord of Life stands before you and speaks your name.
Christ is risen. He is risen indeed. Alleluia.
Come soon Lord Jesus. Amen.