Christopher Thomas
Sermon for Easter Sunday, Year 4 – 4/4/21
Isaiah 25:6-9
Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24
Acts 10:34-43
John 20:1-18
“Mary!”
The day, like so many others, began in such sweet, deep, bitter, sad sorrow. So many of them do. The days, I mean. So disconnected. So anxious. So full of longing.
To see, to smell, to touch, to hear, to taste, ah, to know. To know my beloved.
My beloved spirated, saying unto me, “Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away with me!”
Oh, to hear that bidding, but one more time.
But, who knew?
Really, seriously, who knew?
She did not know. She could not see, him, Love, through her tears, her sorrow, her weeping, that love stood there, right in front of her, as plain as the very nose on her face!
“Mary!”
I can imagine, can’t you, that it was electric, that moment of realization, when her name sizzles across time and space and place, when the chasm of Chronos and Kairos collapse into one singular sensation, and God, Logos, love, is there, right there, before our very eyes! Death is swallowed up into life, forever, and forevermore!
Of all the things that I am not sure of, and of those things there are many, I am not sure of the exact timing of Jesus’ resurrection. Oh, I know it falls somewhere between Friday and Sunday, but when is mystery.
But of this, I am sure.
I KNOW when Mary was resurrected.
When Jesus calls her name!
“Mary!”
In that instant, that Easter instant, Mary is resurrected, and in that instant, we all become “Mary.”
I’m going to let you in on a little secret. I’m going to give away just a bit of the “gay codex.” We have known for some time that there is resurrection power in the name “Mary,” a unifying identity. We have been bidding people back to life through the name “Mary” ever since I can remember.
“Oh, Mary, come out!”
“Mary, throw off your grave clothes!”
“Mary!”
Now, in that most particular, specific moment, all our names unify, collapse into one. We all become Mary, all of us.
Love stands there loves’ self, Jesus, calling to each of us by our very names, Mary:
Stephen, David, Joe, Lisa, Ruth, Janet, Allen, Randolph, Kathy, Andrew, Todd, Steve, Laura, Linda, Christopher, Pam, Jack, Fred, Gloria, Dan, Susan, Virginia, Andrew, Lee, Michael, Jeanette, Fernando, Rob, Harold, Paul, John, Emmett, Murray, Tyler,
The hope that wells up through the name Mary spills out into, onto, through, around, and beyond each and every one of us this very morning.
Jesus IS the resurrection. And Jesus’ first act is to resurrect others, namely Mary, US. And then, Jesus sends Mary to go and do the same. “Don’t hold on to me! I’m giving you that same resurrection power! Go and tell the others!”
And so I find myself this Easter morning wondering with fascination about the redemptive power of name-speaking. Is it possible that it could be so simple, that love’s redeeming, life-giving work is begun, maybe even done, the God-mystery, contained in this moment of naming, assigning, and recognizing identity in holy spiration?
I know the look of an animated mother who hears her alcoholic son cry “Mom!”
I have seen the face of an exuberant father who hears his prodigal son cry “Dad!”
I know how I feel when my name, “Christopher,” is cried out by a loved-one who is thought to be all but forever lost.
I know Mary’s searing, lonely, agonizing grief. I know you know it too! You have lost something, someone, some part of your identity, swallowed up by death, and you are aching with all that you are and all that you have and all that you will be to hear your name spoken again.
Mary!
In that one spiration, in that one moment, Jesus draws each of us, all of us, together, up into the spirits tether. All of the no’s have become yes! Yes, we are resurrected across time. Yes, all that seemed lost has been found. Yes, daylight has split the darkness. Yes, love has come again.
And now, what are we to do with this, this great good news, Mary? We’ve been resurrected, and we’ve been given the power and the authority and the ability to resurrect, to bring the gift of new life, to those who have suffered, and who are suffering, and who will suffer, just as we have. What are we to do, Mary?
Who needs to hear you say their name today?
Who has been waiting, in the valley of the shadow of death, of sorrow, and depression, and desperation, to hear from you? What chasm could you possibly overcome, today, by simply speaking someone’s name? I would venture to guess that there is someone, out there, who could use a little resurrection light, by hearing their name spoken, by you, today.
Speaking life, breathing life into someone else has this entirely curious and yet miraculously redemptive effect. If you stay engaged in the act of it, it becomes reciprocal. You end up breathing new life into yourself. You end up breathing identity into yourself.
That is why it is so important that we say the names, speak the names, breathe the names, give life to all of the names of those who, for whatever reason, have lost their ability to name themselves. The homeless, the downtrodden, the destitute, the voiceless, people of color, or gender, or sexual orientation, those that society would have us not see. We choose to see. We choose to speak their names. We choose to breathe resurrection life into that which seemed dead.
If we do it for them, I promise, they will do it for us! If we breathe life into them, they will breathe life into us!
“Don’t hold on to me, but go and tell them! Go and resurrect them!”
“Go breathe new life into them and they will breathe new life into you!”
“Mary!” “Mary!” “Mary!”
Amen.
