Journeying with Jesus — The Last Week & Beyond
Isaiah 25:6-9; Mark 16:1-8
Resurrection of our Lord, Sunday March 31, 2024
Rev. Dr. Ritva H. Williams
Alleluia! Christ is risen. Christ is risen indeed. Alleluia!
Throughout this season of Lent we have been and reflecting on a book called The Last Week — A Day by Day Account of Jesus’ Final Week in Jerusalem. One of the curious and intriguing things is that it tells the story in eight chapters with Easter Sunday being the eighth day. Scripture presents the eighth day is the holiest of holy days, the consummation of God’s dream for the world (e.g. Leviticus 23:33).
Mark tells the story of the eighth day in eight short verses. Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome buy spices when sabbath ends at sundown on Saturday. As dawn breaks on Sunday, first day of the week, they go to Jesus’ tomb. The women wonder how they will roll away the stone, only to discover that it has already been moved. Inside the tomb, they encounter young man — an angel who gives them a message. Filled with terror and amazement that they run away, and say nothing to anyone.
Full stop. End of the story. End of Mark’s gospel.
As an ending that makes no sense. After all, how did the gospel writer know what happened, if the women never told anyone?
Maybe Mark intended this as an invitation for the reader to write their own ending. In the second century, some early Christian writer did that, and added verses 9-20. But today I want to stick with the original eight verses about the eighth day.
The authors of The Last Week focus on the angel’s message to uncover the meaning of the eighth day. Jesus “who was crucified” by the authorities “has been raised” by God. God said “yes” to Jesus and “no” to the powers who killed him. God has vindicated Jesus, so don’t waste your time looking for him among the dead. “You will see him” if or when you “go to Galilee.” Going to Galilee means going back where the story began, to Jesus’ proclamation of the way and the kingdom. (pp. 197-8). From this emerge two central meanings of Easter (pp. 204-5).
First, Jesus lives. The Christ is a figure of the present, not simply of the past. The truth of this is rooted in the experience of people throughout the centuries. Spiritual experiences which create a sense of wonder, peace and well-being are a real thing. They show up on brain scans. The Pew Research Center reports that 71% of American adults admit to having such experiences (“Spirituality among Americans, December 7, 2023, pewresearch.org). So it is highly likely that you have had an experience of the Christ as a living reality, a spirit, and/or a presence in your own life. And if you haven’t yet, don’t worry, such experiences are beyond our control.
The second meaning of Easter is: God has said “yes” to Jesus and “no” to the powers who executed him. Consequently, Jesus is Lord. And if Jesus is Lord, the lords of this world are not. Easter affirms that the domination systems of this world are not of God, and they do not get to have the final word. God and God alone has the final word (p. 206).
You might be wondering, what are domination systems? Domination systems are all the ways we are trained to sort people into categories that lift up some and put down others. Age. Size and shape. Skin color. Gender and gender expression. Sex and sexual orientation. Physical ability or lack thereof. Mental health and divergences from what is deemed ‘normal.’ White collar, blue collar, pink collar employment. Tribalism, nationalism, patriotism. The list goes on and on. One of the meanings of Easter is that these systems are not of God. God didn’t invent them. God does not endorse or bless them.
So get back to the eight verses about the eighth day. I imagine the women who ran away from the tomb that first Easter morning doing what believers always do. They sat down, prayed, and then turned to their scriptures to gain insight into what they had witnessed.
Since Isaiah was one of the scriptures that defined Jesus’ self-identity and ministry, they probably spent time with the verses we heard this morning. They remembered God’s dream to make a banquet for ALL peoples, to swallow up the shroud that is cast over All peoples, to swallow up the sheet that is spread over ALL nations, and so swallow up death forever, wipe away the tears from ALL faces, and take disgrace and shame away from ALL the earth (25:6-9).
Like other ancient peoples, the women, and the male disciples who joined them, imagined death as a hungry monster-like deity gobbling up people. Isaiah reveals that death is not god. God does not swallow up people. Instead, God swallows up the shroud cast over all peoples like a net holding them captive. God swallows up the sheet covering all nations which renders them blind to the truth about themselves. Shrouds and sheets are vivid, poetic ways of pointing to the effects of domination systems with their false stories, the false sense of security those stories generate, and the destructive values they endorse. In God’s dream they are all swallowed up. Death-dealing ideas and words, practices and actions do not have the final say about people, nations, and creation. By swallowing up death, God makes a new future possible. That new future invites us to let go of much much that is familiar, both sacred and social. Admittedly that can be scary. (Anathea Portier-Young, 2015, workingpreacher.org)
Their practices of prayer and scripture led Christ’s followers to conclude that Easter Sunday was the eighth day — the dawning of a new reality shaped by the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. They did share the good news of the Risen Christ eventually. Christ’s Spirit continues to guide us as we welcome, affirm and celebrate all people.
In a world where domination systems often lead Christians to represent God’s feast for all peoples as looking like the image above, I offer an alternative vision along with a poem titled ‘at that banquet” by Avery Arden (posted January 2, 2021 at binarybreakingworship.com)
there will be straws at that banquet and all the bread will be gluten free
and no one will go away hungry because there was no food that fit their dietary needs
and the table will be high enough for wheelchairs to slide easily beneath it [and foot stools for people like me whose feet don’t reach the floor]
and no one will gawk at those of us who have trouble sitting still so long
and stand instead, and stomp our feet
and no one will grab our flapping wrists and hiss, “quiet hands!”
(God, i cannot wait to never hear that hateful phrase again)
and Jesus, there you will be, not at the head of the table
but in the middle of things breaking bread with hands that struggle a little,
impeded by the damage done to your fine motor skills when the nails pierced your wrists
and with a wheelchair stationed behind you that friends can push you in when the chronic pain
in your nail-damaged feet becomes too much
and we will all share in the lopsided chunks of gluten free bread that is your body
or the cups of juice with straws in them that is your blood
and there will be laughter, oh there will be laughter loud and carefree
communicated through AAC or sign language or smiling mouths
as we finally learn what it means to be truly One: united, not in spite of but through diversity.
The best good news is that we are all invited and welcome. We will all be affirmed and celebrated for who we are. Alleluia! Christ is risen. Christ is risen indeed. Alleluia!
