Mark 16:1-8

When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back.

As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.”

So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

Beware and warning! This book is different from other books. You and you alone are in charge of what happens in this story. There are dangers, choices, adventures and consequences. you must use all of your numerous talents and much of your enormous intelligence. The wrong decision could end in disaster - even death. but don't despair. At any time, you can go back and make another choice, alter the path of your story, and change its result.

That’s how every “Choose your own adventure” book begins. Then you are thrown into the thick of some plot. Maybe you're a teenage detective searching for a stolen rare tea bowl like in Cup of Death. Or you’re a doctor for a highly skilled expedition on the Amazon river as in Lost on the Amazon. Or the COO of spy activity for a new nation in the year 2051 as in Beyond Escape.

Did you read these books as a kid or remember your kids reading them? They were all the rage in the 80s and 90s. But if you’ve never heard of the “choose your own adventure” series, they were small chapter books created by Edward Packard and Ray Montgomery, two dads, who loved telling stories to their kids.

Here’s how they work: every few pages you are left with a decision to make: swim up the river turn to page 43 or stay on the shore turn to page 71. Make a run for it turn to page 4 or talk to the shop owner, page 38. And then there were multiple endings based on the decisions you made. At first, you likely made choices by following your intuitions, decisions you would actually make in real life. But then, if you weren’t happy with the ending, you’d go back, make different choices, and receive a different ending. And the allure of the “choose” books was that the deaths were never final. No matter how the story ends - you could get sliced in half by a portal that sends your torso to the future and your legs to the past - even then you could go back and make different choices. The ending was never really the end.

And as a kid… I couldn’t stand these books! I didn’t like hopping around from one scene to the next. I wanted consistency in the story; I wanted some certainty as to what could be expected; I wanted closure. That’s how real life is, afterall. We take comfort that, most of the time, we can anticipate what’s coming next. Sure, this life might be a little mundane sometimes, but at least we know what it holds: we’re born, we go to school, we get jobs. We might get married; we grow old, and we get one ending, the same ending, [we die].

We make choices along the way, but we can’t go back and change them. That’s why my routine loving, black and white thinking, ten year old self didn’t like “choose your own adventure books”: I wanted more closure then they could offer. And my hunch is that’s likely why we struggle with the end of Mark’s gospel, too. It offers no closure.

Mary Magdalene, Mary the Mother of James, and Salome came for closure. They expected to see and anoint the body of Jesus, whom they saw die two days ago. But that's not how this story goes. What they came looking for, they didn't find. What was expected, didn’t happen! “He’s not here.” Says the young man in the tomb. “Look! That's where he was laid”.

They had in fact watched some guy named Joseph wrap Jesus' body in linen cloth and place him in the tomb that’s now empty. “So go, tell his disciples… that he’s gone on ahead of you to Galilee; that’s where you’ll see him, just as he told you!” They fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them, telling nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

That’s the ending? That’s no ending. Seeing the body in the tomb, that would be an ending. Seeing the risen Jesus in Galilee that would be an ending. But seeing neither and the women leaving and telling no one because they were afraid, that’s no ending at all! In Matthew the women see Jesus as they flee the tomb and the disciples talk to him on the mountain. In Luke, Jesus walks with two disciples on the road to Emmaus and then has dinner with all them. In John, there is breakfast on the beach. Those are endings!

But in Mark, we get an abrupt pause. An unfinished story. And if there is one thing we can’t stand, it's a story with no end. Joyous ending, terrible ending, we’ll take what we can get; just as long as there’s an ending. We aren’t the first people to be troubled by Mark’s unfinished story. From very early on, the church tried to fill in the story so that it comes to a nice conclusion, like proof of a resurrection and assurance that the women did in fact tell others. That’s why if you pulled out that black Bible underneath your seat you’d see two additional endings. But people much smarter than me say verse 8 is most likely where Mark stopped writing.

So it might be helpful to look at Mark’s version of the resurrection as a “choose your own adventure”, because in many ways, that’s what it is: an unfinished story that you are a part of. You are thrown into the thick of the plot along with Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome. While they went to the tomb, you came here this morning. You too came looking for Jesus. Or maybe you came looking for proof of the resurrection, or maybe you came just to hear a good easter story with no loose ends. But what you got instead is the word and promise of someone else telling you that Jesus was crucified but has been raised. And that he’s gone on ahead of you. That he will meet you in the days ahead, just as he said he would. You now get to choose how this story continues…

That’s the good news of the resurrection! The story is unfinished and you get to be a part of it. Death is no longer the end of the story. Through the death and resurrection of Jesus you have new life and it starts here and now. It’s not new life like a “choose your own adventure book”. You can’t go back and change the decision you’ve made and receive a different ending. New life in Christ is much greater than that! Its not going backward, but forward.

New life in Christ means: if you aren’t happy with the way you're living your life, with the decisions you’ve made, or with how your story is turning out, you get to try again! We don’t make the right choices, we don’t love our neighbors as we should, nor do we work for justice the way God wants us to. But because of Jesus, we are forgiven for all that we’ve done or not done, said or not said. And that forgiveness, that fresh start of each new day, that opportunity to try again and again is what we call grace. And that grace is given to you as a gift, no strings attached.

To be clear, no choice you make gets you saved or puts you in a right relationship with God. That choice was made for you by Jesus on Friday. The choice that lies before us now is the same that the Marys and Salome faced some 2000 years ago this very morning. You’ve heard the good news. Jesus is not dead. He is alive. You’ve been given new life! So what will it be?

Will you leave and tell no one?

Will you share the good news with all who need it?

Will you run to meet Jesus and continue the work he’s called us to: loving our neighbors, feeding the hungry, striving for justice?

If so, beware and warning. Because this story is different from all other stories and you are invited to be a part of it. There are dangers, choices, adventures and consequences. God has given you so many talents and enormous intelligence to help along the way. You’ll make wrong decisions, there will be disaster, and even death. But don’t despair. It's not the end. Jesus has given you new life, calling you forward into a new day, forgiving your sins, giving you grace, and altering the path of your story. Thanks be to God.

Amen.

Mark 16:1-8

When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of James, and Salome, went and bought spices so they might anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, after the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, “Who will help us to roll back the stone from the entrance to the tomb?” But when they looked up, they saw the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. When they entered the tomb, they saw a young man there, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right-hand side, and they were alarmed.

But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed. You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised. He is not here. Look at the place where they laid him. But go and tell his disciples, and Peter, that he is going ahead of you, to Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.” So the women got up and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement seized them, and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

I’ve always thought about the Easter story – no matter which Gospel it comes from – to be the first, greatest, hands-down, no-argument-necessary, evidence and support for the Truth that women could and should be just as welcome as men to be Pastors and Priests and leaders in the church. And I still think that’s True, with a capital T. And since Easter’s early enough to be celebrated on the last day of National Women’s Month, this time around, it seems appropriate to lift that up, first thing this morning.

The evidence of it all is in what we just heard from Mark’s Gospel, where two Marys and Salome bought the spices and showed up at the tomb and were the first to hear the good news of Jesus’ resurrection. According to Matthew’s version of the story, it was just the two Maries. They not only get the news first, but are then the first ones to actually meet Jesus as they run off to tell the disciples. In Luke’s Gospel the group seems to be a bit bigger, but still all women – the Marys, a Joanna this time, and (quote) “the other women with them,” who go un-named – but who are all blessed with the Easter news before anybody else, and who are charged with the task of relaying it to the disciples. And finally, in John’s Gospel, it’s just Mary Magdalene, all by herself, who’s there to find the tomb empty. She thinks something’s wrong and sends the men to investigate, but later she’s the first one to actually meet Jesus, in the garden, and to be told from his very lips, to go and tell the disciples the good news.

So, it’s ridiculous to argue against the notion that women can and should and deserve to be proclaimers and preachers and pastors and priests of God’s good news.

But I think it’s always worth wondering “Why them?” “Why these?” “Why the Marys and Joanna and Salome and ‘the other women with them,’ however it may have gone down?”

And the answer to that seems just as obvious and True, to me: that Jesus’ appearance – first to the women – like so much of the rest of his life and ministry, was just another example of his care and his concern and his love for those the world had little, or less, or no regard for in so many ways.

You know, “the last will be first and the first will be last,” and “just as you did it to one of the least of these,” and all of that?

See, I think Jesus showed up to the women first, not only because they were capable and worthy and up-to-the-task, but because they were among those who needed his resurrection the most. They were, in his day and age, among “the least” in the world – like the lepers and the lame and the blind and the deaf that Jesus was so fond of helping and healing and loving when no one else would. They were, in his day and age, the ones without power, without privilege, without means for justice, without so much that the world around them took for granted and used against them at every turn.

So, I think we’re called to be curious and courageous about who this news is for in our day and age. Who in our world… who in your circle of influence… who in your life… needs this good news about second chances, about forgiveness, about abundance, about new life, in a special, surprising, maybe even desperate kind of way these days?

Don’t get me wrong. It’s for all of us – and we’re going to get to that later this morning with all of the pomp and circumstance that waits for us. But here? Early in the morning? On the first day of the week, as the sun is rising, who is it that’s feeling left out? Who is lost? Who is particularly in need of this first round of blessing, good news, and hope?

I’m thinking of the people in places like Gaza and Haiti and Ukraine, of course. I think of the people for whom no one is praying, today. I think of the prisoner and the houseless and the addicted and the abused. And I think of people closer to home, too. I’m thinking of Anne Janelsins and Tom Bancroft and Frank, and others, who are spending their first Easter after losing a loved one. I’m thinking of Alice Christle who’s been in and out of the hospital, and in and out of the operating room, the last week or so. I’m thinking of Bob and Ruth Boyer as Bob spends his first Easter away from home in Morristown Manor.

To me, it’s a meaningful thing to imagine who – in our lives and in this world – Easter’s good news might find its way to, first… to those who need it most precisely because they need it most.

So when I put it this way, it might seem hard to imagine that this Easter news has anything to do with me, right? Things are pretty good for me, these days. Maybe that’s true for you, too. Most of us aren’t “the least of these” by the rest of the world’s estimation. We’re the ones with the means and the resources and the full bellies and the full plates and with more than our share and with plenty to spare, if we’re honest. But this is still our good news – make no mistake about it.

Maybe you need it most and more urgently than someone else this time around. If that’s the case, I’m glad you’re here early. Please hear and receive the fullness of this love, hope and mercy, right here and right now. If not, please receive the fullness of this love, hope and mercy, just the same, in a way that sends you running to share it with someone who could use it.

Before the big party starts later this morning – with all of its pomp and circumstance and noise and celebration – let’s be compelled by the humility and need of those first women … and let’s be changed by their terror and amazement that this could be True and for them … and let’s be sent into the world to share what belongs to us all, really, but especially with those who are hungry or thirsty, or grieving or afraid, or doubting or denying or dying, even, to know that it’s for them, first and foremost.

Amen

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