Tuesday, April 7, 2015

“Tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”

Easter Sunday
April 5, 2015
John 20:1-18

“Mary said to them, ‘They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have put him.’”[1]  This statement of Mary’s gained new meaning for me last August.  Not many of you know this, because we didn’t tell hardly anyone; we were too overwhelmed.  Even most of our family didn’t know, unless they happened to call during this time.  My son, A.J., who was born last August, spent his third and fourth days of life in the NICU, the Neonatal Intensive Care.  Everything went normal, he came exactly on his due date, and we were all set to be discharged on time.  I was discharged on time.  The night before we were to be sent home, the nurse came to get A.J. around 1 a.m. to run some final tests and bloodwork to get him ready to be discharged.  Around 3 a.m. she came back with him and another nurse to say that they were moving him to the NICU.  A.J. had started breathing abnormally while they were doing the tests and it hadn’t resolved itself after over an hour, so they wanted to keep him under closer observation.  They had brought him back for me to kiss good-bye before taking him to the NICU for observation.  I was then supposed to go back to sleep until morning – yeah, right!  I called my husband to let him know.  I pulled out my Bible to try to read and find comfort.  I pulled out my devotional book to try to pray.  “Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work or watch or weep this night.”  And I couldn’t do any of it.  They had taken my baby away and I didn’t know where to find him.  The NICU wasn’t included on our tour of the hospital.  I knew, rationally, that it couldn’t be far, but I had no idea where it was.  I tried calling my best friend, who’s a night owl, but she didn’t answer.  And then I called my mom.  My mom’s a nurse, and she works in the newborn unit of a hospital in Raleigh.  She told me to call my nurse and ask to be taken to the NICU.  Best.  Advice.  Ever.  It was as simple as that.  They had taken my baby away and I didn’t know where to find him, [pause] until I asked the right person.  Mary first tells the angels, “They have taken away my Lord, and I don’t know where they put him.”  Then she speaks with Jesus, who she doesn’t know is Jesus and who she thinks is the gardener, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”  Then she finds out it’s Jesus.  Then she finds out where he is: standing right in front of her. 
The first point here is that old saying that people usually find what they’re looking for.  That saying is so old, it’s even in the Bible, in the book of Proverbs: “Those who seek good find the goodwill of others, but those who look for trouble will surely find it.”[2]  Unlike the band U2, who still hasn’t found what they’re looking for, most of us usually find what we look for.  The car keys eventually turn up.  The reading glasses are most likely on top of our head.  And I’ve learned the best place to look for something missing in my household these days is in between the car seats.  We usually do find what we’re looking for, whether it’s a lost item or lost pet or expecting people to behave a certain way.  It’s like the story that is told of the Greek philosopher Socrates:[3]
Socrates was sitting on a hill overlooking Athens, when a man stopped to talk with him.  The man asked, “What are the people like down there in Athens?”  Socrates said, “Where are you from?”  The man replied, “Sparta.” “And what are the people like in Sparta?”  The man replied, “Rude, mean-spirited, not nice people.”  Socrates said, “You will find the people in Athens just the same.  I would not go there.” 
Later, another man approached Socrates and asked, “What are the people like down there in Athens?”  Socrates said, “Where are you from?”  The man replied, “Sparta.” “And what are the people like in Sparta?”  The man replied, “Kind, generous, good people.”  Socrates put his arm around the man and said, “Let’s go to Athens together.  You will find the people in Athens just the same.”
If you look for the best in people, you’ll find it.  If you go looking to stir the pot and create chaos, you’ll find that, too.  Mary came to the tomb looking for the Jesus who had died, and she found him. Peter and John came looking in response to news of a possible grave robbing of Jesus’ body, and that’s what they found: a missing body.  What do you look for when you come to church?  To be bored?  Then you probably will be.  Or do you look, like Mary, for an encounter with the risen Savior?  Then you will probably find him and be found by him. 
I say “be found by him” because we don’t always recognize Jesus when we see him.  Mary thought he was the gardener.  On the road to Emmaus, Cleopas and his friend thought Jesus was just a fellow traveler, until he broke bread with them.  When Jesus stood on the shoreline and called out to his fishing disciples, Peter and the others could not recognize him. And in our Gospel reading in a couple weeks we’ll hear that when the eleven first saw the risen Jesus, they believed they had seen a ghost.[4] Mary was even looking for him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him,” and doesn’t recognize that it’s him.  We have trouble recognizing Jesus sometimes, so it’s a good thing that Jesus finds us and lets us know, “hey, it’s me.” 
Along with Piney Grove, I was part of a Lenten service series on Wednesdays at St. Matthew’s Lutheran in Bowley’s Quarters this Lent and the sermon series was on how Jesus meets us.  We don’t meet Jesus; he meets us.  In a variety of places, in a variety of ways, but the initiative is his.  Our part is whether we recognize him when he meets us, because he doesn’t always look like the pictures we have hanging up here.  In our Bible study on why a sense of humor is important in the spiritual life we recently looked at a couple pictures of paintings of Jesus laughing.[5]  And not just a big smile, but Jesus’ head is tilted back and his mouth is open and his teeth are showing, that’s how much Jesus is laughing in these pictures.  
It’s a very different image of Jesus than the ones we usually see.  Do you recognize Jesus in the good and happy and laugh-filled moments in your life?  Do you think he’s laughing along with you at a good joke?  And then what about the other times in life?  That last Wednesday at St. Matthew’s the title was “When Did We See You, Lord?” and the Scripture reading was the one from Matthew 25, where Jesus promises his followers that when he reappears it will be as the homeless, the hungry, the stranger, the sick, and the prisoner.  Do you recognize Jesus when that’s how he shows up?  And yet Jesus says that when we feed the hungry and give clothes to those who need them and welcome the stranger and visit the sick and imprisoned, “Whenever you did it for any of my people, no matter how unimportant they seemed, you did it for me.”[6]  Or to put it a different way from the book of Hebrews, “Be sure to welcome strangers into your home. By doing this, some people have welcomed angels as guests, without even knowing it.”[7]  We don’t always recognize Jesus when we see him.  Mary thought he was the gardener, but you can see, she still spoke to him politely, Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”
The point is this.  We go looking for Jesus, but we don’t always recognize him when we see him, so, mind your P’s and Q’s.  In my previous appointment I was the associate pastor at a church that averaged around 500 people in attendance each Sunday.  On my second week there, I volunteered with the church at the local homeless shelter, only I didn’t tell any of the regular volunteers I was coming.  I arrived in the kitchen and said, “Hi, how can I help?” and I was put to work before one of the other volunteers whispered to her husband, “Psst, that's the new associate!” I wasn't trying to be secretive, I'm just more comfortable saying, “Hi, what's your name?” than “Hi, I'm the new associate pastor.” Later on, I was talking with another church volunteer (who was smart enough to ask back, “What's your name?”!) and another church volunteer joined us just as we were talking about my predecessor. The two talked about how they missed the previous associate and the second one said, “But I hear our new associate has her own gifts and talents.” I didn't interrupt her, just introduced myself to her when she was done. I suppose it was a good thing she had only heard positive things about me!  My point is that you never know who’s listening and you never know who the stranger is at your door.  If you treat everyone like you would treat Jesus, if you roll out the red carpet for everyone you encounter, if you treat everyone with respect, and mind your P’s and Q’s all the time, then you don’t have to worry about whether it’s Jesus or not, plus you’re carrying out his commandment to love your neighbor as yourself.  That’s all Mary is trying to do, anyway.  “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”  That’s all Mary wants to do, is finish taking care of Jesus’ body.  She’s not there for herself, she’s there for her friend. 
Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”  Mary has gone looking for Jesus.  He’s not where he’s supposed to be.  (Imagine that, Jesus not where he’s supposed to be?)  She goes looking for him only to be found by him.  The catch is that she doesn’t immediately recognize him, because we don’t always immediately recognize God in our midst.  That’s why hindsight is 20-20 and we say with Jacob from the Old Testament, “Surely God was in this place and I didn’t even know it!”[8]  If we live, though, as if we are always in the presence of the risen Christ, which we are, then that should make a difference in our lives.  If we remember who we are and whose we are, and that the One with the final say on that is God, not anyone else, then it changes how we live and how we treat others.  If “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have put him” becomes “Tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”  If we remember and believe that because of this Sunday death does not have the last word nor does it have any power over us, then we can go share like Mary told the disciples, “I have seen the Lord.”[9]  Thanks be to God.


[1] John 20:13
[2] Proverbs 11:27
[3] Author Unknown
[5] Based on Between Heaven and Mirth by James Martin, SJ
[6] Matthew 25:40, CEV
[7] Hebrews 13:2, CEV
[8] Genesis 28:16
[9] John 20:18

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