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.

John 8:31-36

Jesus said, to some of the Jews who had believed in him, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples and you will know the truth and the truth will make you free.” They said to him, “We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, ‘You will be made free’?”

Jesus answered them, “Everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not have a permanent place in the house, but the son has a place there forever. So, if the Son makes you free, you will be free, indeed.”

I found myself playing Foosball recently with one of my favorite 9 year-old boys, who shall remain nameless. (It’s questionably for pastors to invoke their own children as sermon illustrations, and even moreso where other peoples’ kids are concerned. So I will refrain.) Anyway, when he asked me if I played foosball, I gave him the same answer I give when someone asks me if I golf or play pool; something like, “I have played foosball, but I don’t play foosball.” Which really just means, I’m terrible at foosball – and golf and pool, for that matter.

But, since he’s one of my favorite 9 year-old boys, I agreed. And, first came the rules. And, since I’ve only played foosball, but don’t play foosball – and as with golf and pool, I’m usually holding a beer in one hand and a pool cue, golf club, or foosball rod in the other – I didn’t know the rules, didn’t think there were, really, rules to foosball, so was utterly at the mercy of my 9 year-old friend, who had LOTS of rules about how to play foosball.

I couldn’t keep track of them all at the time and can’t possibly remember them, now. But there was an “off-sides” rule somehow. And he seemed to have very official-sounding names for very particular offenses and penalties, like “tripping” I think. Maybe “tackling” was another. I was mystified by how little plastic figures, with immovable arms and legs, permanently attached to a metal rod could “trip” or “tackle” anything, but I was in no position of authority to argue with my 9-year old opponent. It was his table, his house, his rules, after all.

There was also a rule about whether my foosball players would, could, or should be upside down or right-side up at particular times. I think some of the foosball players could kick the ball backwards but others could not. I never did get to drop the ball back onto the playing field after a score, either – that was always his job. AND, of course, after I scored a time or two, my favorite 9 year-old seemed to suddenly remember more rules he’d forgotten to tell me about before we started. (I’m certain by the way, that he comes by all of this naturally. See, my favorite nine year-old’s father is a lawyer.)

But I played along, confident that I would and could and should win – no matter how many rules he threw at me – because he’s 9. But, as you might have guessed, I lost that freaking foosball game to my favorite 9 year-old.

And it makes me think about what we’re up to on Reformation Sunday: what Martin Luther was challenging in the Church of his day, and something like what Jesus meant when he talked about being a slave to sin, and about how we could be freed from that kind of bondage.

See, I think God’s people on the planet are called “children” for some very good reasons. Since the beginning of time, we’ve been pretending that the rules can save us. So we’ve messed with the rules – creating our own and breaking God’s – in ways that work to our advantage, in ways that disadvantage others, and in ways that make winners and losers of God’s people. And I think, like my favorite 9 year-old, we’ve convinced ourselves that by fudging the rules, by bending the rules, by making up and massaging the rules for our benefit, by playing by the rules at all – we can come out on top; that we can win, in the end.

In other words, we have convinced ourselves that our best chance for salvation, our best chance at freedom, as Jesus says it this morning, our only hope for victory is wrapped up in the Law of God’s rules.

Which is what people were up to in the days of Martin Luther – back in the 16th Century. They were keeping score with rituals and rules and restrictions and riches. You could pay cash for salvation, by way of something called an Indulgence, for example. The church was acting like a bunch of children, convincing people they could buy their way out of purgatory and into heaven, for the right amount of money. People were told they could make a spiritual pilgrimage or visit a holy shrine to earn favor and forgiveness in God’s eyes. We call this “works righteousness” nowadays – the notion that we can behave our way into God’s good graces.

And all of this made Martin Luther sad. It made him angry. It made him want to change and reform so much of what was happening to God’s Church in the world.

And it wasn’t much different than what was going on in the days of Jesus, either. The followers of Jesus were screwing up even while he was still walking around on the planet. The Pharisees were pointing fingers, the Sadducees throwing stones, the Scribes were scribbling down their rules, and the disciples were doubting that the grace Jesus proclaimed, promised and embodied, could really be true. And the faithful were falling for it.

All of it was about who was right and who was wrong; who was earning God’s favor and who was reaping God’s judgment; who was playing by the rules and who wasn’t; and who may or may not win, in the end.

God’s children were under the impression that following the rules – keeping the Law, at all costs – was the only way to win… the only way to be free …the only way to be saved. And, like me against my favorite 9 year-old, people fell for it – people fall for it – all of the time, thinking they could out-smart it all by following the rules.

But like those people listening to Jesus in this morning’s Gospel, we forget, don’t we? We forget that we have been – and are, still – slaves to Sin, slaves to the rules, slaves to the Law. And as slaves, like our confession reminds us, we cannot free ourselves. There is no amount of rules to follow… there is no correct Law to abide… there is no way, even, to tweak or twist the rules or the Law so that it leads to our victory.

Because we need more than the Law. We need the Son. We need the grace of a God, who isn’t keeping score; who isn’t dangling the rules before us like a carrot; who isn’t twisting the rules so that we’ll keep playing at this thing called FAITH, as though it were a to-do list for some cosmic task-master, rather than a grateful response to a generous God, which our faith is meant to be. We need the grace of a God who already loves us – and who always, always, always will – because we are, indeed, children of God. Nothing more and nothing less.

See, I imagine God watching all of us children – you and me and all of creation, I mean – like my favorite 9 year-old’s parents watched him kick my butt at the foosball table. Smiling and laughing. Not at all surprised. All of us knowing it was never about the rules or the score or the winning or the losing, anyway.

All that matters – God knows, and wants us to believe – is that we’re all set free, each and every one of us. That we all win, in the end. That God holds no grudges – and neither should we – until we learn to live differently and to love more radically and to hope more earnestly, and to play more fairly … for our own sake and for the sake of the world … thanks to the grace that belongs to each of us, that frees every one of us, that makes us all winners, in Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Amen

(…and for the record, I did Google “Foosball Rules” in preparation for this sermon and found nothing about “tripping,” “tackling,” or “off-sides.” And the rules I did learn about were not in my favorite 9 year-old’s repertoire, so I’m totally kicking that 9 year-old’s butt next we play.)

Resurrection as "Choose Your Own Adventure"

Reformation Foosball