Easter - April 5, 2015
______________________________________________________________________________
In
a single verse of scripture – Psalm 30: 11 – David set out a word picture that
is astounding in terms of the contrast portrayed. On the one hand we have a
picture of wild, uncontrolled, and gut wrenching lamentation, sorrow, and
mourning. In that same picture we see a wardrobe: bleak, dark, and black
garments – the wardrobe of death and the grieving associated with it. That’s
the first picture.
The second picture is that of a dancer engaged in the activity of dancing. But it is vital to catch the spirit or nature of this dancing: it is wild, unrestricted, bursting with enthusiasm. It is – as Peterson stated it – ‘swirling dance.’ And note also there has been a change of wardrobe: the bleak, dark, and black garments have been replaced with the clothes of gladness, joy, happiness, rejoicing, and celebration – depending on the translation. One can only assume that these were vibrant, multicoloured garments.
In the first picture we have a mourner who is beyond the reach of any comfort. In the second picture we have a dancer who is so giddy with joy and gladness that she cannot be touched or influenced by mourning. But here is the final amazing wonder of this picture – David is not referring to two different people; he’s describing the same person. The mourner is the dancer; the dancer is the mourner.
As I looked upon and into this word picture of the Psalmist I asked one simple question: What can transport a person from this depth of mourning to an even greater height of joy? What can transform such a mourner into such a dancer?
The only answer is – in a single word – EASTER!
In the record of the New Testament there are at least five Marys who pass before us. It is not always easy to keep them properly sorted out. On this Easter Sunday morning I want us to look again at one of those Marys, and in her we will see the portrait that David painted with his words. I am speaking, of course, of Mary Magdalene.
It is surprising how little the record actually reports of this woman. We know she was from a village (small city) located on the shores of the Sea of Galilee named Magdala. The designation Mary Magdalene means Mary of Magdala. We also know that Christ had delivered her from seven demons. We know that she became an absolutely devoted follower of Christ. We know she was there at the cross, standing near to Mary the mother of Christ. We know she remained there until the body of Christ was taken from the cross. We know she was there when he was placed in the tomb. We know that she along with the other women bought spices and oil to prepare the body of Christ for burial. We know that she and those same women were first at the tomb with the rising sun on that first Easter morning.
Someone made note of the fact that Mary was the last to leave the cross, and the first to visit the tomb Sunday morning. The purpose of that observation is to highlight the profound devotion Mary had for Jesus; the depth of her love for the One who alone was able to deliver her from hopelessness.
What cannot be finally proven scripturally and yet is suggested by many writers is that the woman we meet in the seventh chapter of Luke’s record is Mary Magdalene – or Mary of Magdala. This is the woman who came into the house of Simon the Pharisee. Her public reputation was that she was “a sinner.” The city of Magdala also had a reputation. It was widely known as a place of unbridled passion and lust; a centre of prostitution.
It was just such a woman that came into that house, wept on the feet of Christ, dried his feet with the hair of her head, and anointed his feet with oil. Simon the Pharisee was horrified that Christ allowed this “woman of the street” to touch him much less weep on his feet and dry them with her hair. And, of course, in that culture, for a woman to appear in public with unbound hair was a sign of prostitution.
Christ then spoke that profound story of the two debtors; one owing an astronomical amount of money, the other owing a mere trifle. The master fully forgave each man his debt. And then came the very revealing question: Which of the two debtors would love the master the most? And then came the very obvious answer: the debtor who was forgiven the most would love the master the most. And then came the heart-revealing lesson: “He who is forgiven little loves little; he who is forgiven much loves much.”
We will never be able to say for certain if the woman in Simon’s house that night was in fact Mary Magdalene – but here is what we can say with absolute certainly: The lesson Jesus drove home that night with His story was absolutely true of Mary: She had been forgiven MUCH and therefore she loved MUCH. And at no time was this demonstrated with greater poignancy than it was on that first Easter in the garden. The only way to understand the depth of her mourning is to first understand the depth of her love and devotion.
Here is how that first Easter unfolded: A group of women arrive at the tomb at dawn. They have come to properly prepare the body of Christ for burial. The stone is rolled away from the mouth of the tomb. They encounter angels. They see the evidence of a resurrection but are not yet able to come to a solid belief concerning what they are seeing. They are given a message to take to the disciples.
They deliver their message. The disciples call it ‘nonsense’ (depending on your translation). Peter and John decide to investigate. They find the same evidence. They return confused. This is where John’s record singles Mary Magdalene out from the rest.
It would appear that Mary returned with or immediately after Peter and John visited the tomb. But rather than going back with them, she remained behind in the garden. This is where we see the reality of David’s word picture of the person transported from mourning to dancing.
Mary is peering into the tomb for the second time. She is weeping without shame. Remember – the depth of her mourning reflects the depth of her love and devotion. For a second time she has a conversation with angels; she does not recognize them as angels.
Suddenly Christ is standing behind her. She hears His voice but fails to recognize His identity. She is busy explaining her grief and mourning. She is lost in her loss. And then she hears her name, and with the speaking of her name she recognizes the voice and falls at the feet of Christ. It was not accidental that the revelation of the resurrected Christ came with the speaking of her name. Not only did Christ know her name, but He spoke her name in a manner no one else could; there was uniqueness in the way He spoke her name that was known only to Mary. And with that there was no mistaking who this was.
I have to hurry to the end of the story. He commissions her with these words – “...go to my brethren and say to them...” He assigns her a message to be delivered.
Right there we see the wonder, the glory, the indescribable mystery of Easter; it transforms Mary the mourner into Mary the missionary. Right there we see what David pictured in Ps.30:11 – the mourner becoming the dancer.
Mary made the journey from the tomb to wherever the disciples were huddled. Let me ask you: What do you think that journey was like? No matter how many translations you read it seems none really communicates Mary Magdalene’s experience. If you put them all together along with some extra Biblical writings you arrive at a picture of wild dancing – spinning and twirling – while shouting and singing at the top of her lungs: “I have seen the Lord. He is risen!”
What loss are you mourning right now? It may be a lost relationship, a lost opportunity, a lost dream, a lost hope, a lost job, a lost ministry; it may be lost time. In this life there will always be losses. And those losses need to be properly mourned and grieved. But – and this is the whole point – those losses must never become the defining reality of our life and experience. And here’s why in a single word: EASTER!!!
Easter means resurrection. Resurrection means reconciliation and restoration; the reconciliation and restoration of all that was lost and mourned in the journey. That’s the message of Easter – and living in the reality of Easter we will always move beyond our mourning and dance our way into our future.
The second picture is that of a dancer engaged in the activity of dancing. But it is vital to catch the spirit or nature of this dancing: it is wild, unrestricted, bursting with enthusiasm. It is – as Peterson stated it – ‘swirling dance.’ And note also there has been a change of wardrobe: the bleak, dark, and black garments have been replaced with the clothes of gladness, joy, happiness, rejoicing, and celebration – depending on the translation. One can only assume that these were vibrant, multicoloured garments.
In the first picture we have a mourner who is beyond the reach of any comfort. In the second picture we have a dancer who is so giddy with joy and gladness that she cannot be touched or influenced by mourning. But here is the final amazing wonder of this picture – David is not referring to two different people; he’s describing the same person. The mourner is the dancer; the dancer is the mourner.
As I looked upon and into this word picture of the Psalmist I asked one simple question: What can transport a person from this depth of mourning to an even greater height of joy? What can transform such a mourner into such a dancer?
The only answer is – in a single word – EASTER!
In the record of the New Testament there are at least five Marys who pass before us. It is not always easy to keep them properly sorted out. On this Easter Sunday morning I want us to look again at one of those Marys, and in her we will see the portrait that David painted with his words. I am speaking, of course, of Mary Magdalene.
It is surprising how little the record actually reports of this woman. We know she was from a village (small city) located on the shores of the Sea of Galilee named Magdala. The designation Mary Magdalene means Mary of Magdala. We also know that Christ had delivered her from seven demons. We know that she became an absolutely devoted follower of Christ. We know she was there at the cross, standing near to Mary the mother of Christ. We know she remained there until the body of Christ was taken from the cross. We know she was there when he was placed in the tomb. We know that she along with the other women bought spices and oil to prepare the body of Christ for burial. We know that she and those same women were first at the tomb with the rising sun on that first Easter morning.
Someone made note of the fact that Mary was the last to leave the cross, and the first to visit the tomb Sunday morning. The purpose of that observation is to highlight the profound devotion Mary had for Jesus; the depth of her love for the One who alone was able to deliver her from hopelessness.
What cannot be finally proven scripturally and yet is suggested by many writers is that the woman we meet in the seventh chapter of Luke’s record is Mary Magdalene – or Mary of Magdala. This is the woman who came into the house of Simon the Pharisee. Her public reputation was that she was “a sinner.” The city of Magdala also had a reputation. It was widely known as a place of unbridled passion and lust; a centre of prostitution.
It was just such a woman that came into that house, wept on the feet of Christ, dried his feet with the hair of her head, and anointed his feet with oil. Simon the Pharisee was horrified that Christ allowed this “woman of the street” to touch him much less weep on his feet and dry them with her hair. And, of course, in that culture, for a woman to appear in public with unbound hair was a sign of prostitution.
Christ then spoke that profound story of the two debtors; one owing an astronomical amount of money, the other owing a mere trifle. The master fully forgave each man his debt. And then came the very revealing question: Which of the two debtors would love the master the most? And then came the very obvious answer: the debtor who was forgiven the most would love the master the most. And then came the heart-revealing lesson: “He who is forgiven little loves little; he who is forgiven much loves much.”
We will never be able to say for certain if the woman in Simon’s house that night was in fact Mary Magdalene – but here is what we can say with absolute certainly: The lesson Jesus drove home that night with His story was absolutely true of Mary: She had been forgiven MUCH and therefore she loved MUCH. And at no time was this demonstrated with greater poignancy than it was on that first Easter in the garden. The only way to understand the depth of her mourning is to first understand the depth of her love and devotion.
Here is how that first Easter unfolded: A group of women arrive at the tomb at dawn. They have come to properly prepare the body of Christ for burial. The stone is rolled away from the mouth of the tomb. They encounter angels. They see the evidence of a resurrection but are not yet able to come to a solid belief concerning what they are seeing. They are given a message to take to the disciples.
They deliver their message. The disciples call it ‘nonsense’ (depending on your translation). Peter and John decide to investigate. They find the same evidence. They return confused. This is where John’s record singles Mary Magdalene out from the rest.
It would appear that Mary returned with or immediately after Peter and John visited the tomb. But rather than going back with them, she remained behind in the garden. This is where we see the reality of David’s word picture of the person transported from mourning to dancing.
Mary is peering into the tomb for the second time. She is weeping without shame. Remember – the depth of her mourning reflects the depth of her love and devotion. For a second time she has a conversation with angels; she does not recognize them as angels.
Suddenly Christ is standing behind her. She hears His voice but fails to recognize His identity. She is busy explaining her grief and mourning. She is lost in her loss. And then she hears her name, and with the speaking of her name she recognizes the voice and falls at the feet of Christ. It was not accidental that the revelation of the resurrected Christ came with the speaking of her name. Not only did Christ know her name, but He spoke her name in a manner no one else could; there was uniqueness in the way He spoke her name that was known only to Mary. And with that there was no mistaking who this was.
I have to hurry to the end of the story. He commissions her with these words – “...go to my brethren and say to them...” He assigns her a message to be delivered.
Right there we see the wonder, the glory, the indescribable mystery of Easter; it transforms Mary the mourner into Mary the missionary. Right there we see what David pictured in Ps.30:11 – the mourner becoming the dancer.
Mary made the journey from the tomb to wherever the disciples were huddled. Let me ask you: What do you think that journey was like? No matter how many translations you read it seems none really communicates Mary Magdalene’s experience. If you put them all together along with some extra Biblical writings you arrive at a picture of wild dancing – spinning and twirling – while shouting and singing at the top of her lungs: “I have seen the Lord. He is risen!”
What loss are you mourning right now? It may be a lost relationship, a lost opportunity, a lost dream, a lost hope, a lost job, a lost ministry; it may be lost time. In this life there will always be losses. And those losses need to be properly mourned and grieved. But – and this is the whole point – those losses must never become the defining reality of our life and experience. And here’s why in a single word: EASTER!!!
Easter means resurrection. Resurrection means reconciliation and restoration; the reconciliation and restoration of all that was lost and mourned in the journey. That’s the message of Easter – and living in the reality of Easter we will always move beyond our mourning and dance our way into our future.