Unfinished Mark 16:1-8
It’s a trait I think we all share to some degree,
the need to have things come to a satisfying resolution.
There’s a certain symmetry to life
and it can be annoying to have things unfinished.
For example, it makes me crazy to be telling a story
and all of a sudden I can’t remember a name.
A few of you may have had that experience.
It could be my best friend I’m talking about
but the rolodex in my head is just closed.
I eventually have to move on with the story
but at some level it continues to eat at me.
Then, two hours later in the middle of another conversation with a different person
it’ll come to me and I’ll just blurt it out.
ABRAHAM Lincoln!
Ahhh...the universe is back in alignment.
We like to have things finished, have them resolved.
I can remember in my lifetime a national crisis of non-resolution.
I’m not talking about any particular war.
I’m talking about the "Heidi Game" of November, 1968.
The New York Jets, led by Broadway Joe Namath, with a record of 7 and 2
were playing the Oakland Raiders, also with a record of 7 and 2.
It had been an aerial show by the quarterback and a slugfest in the trenches
and the game had stretched on and on due to many penalties on each side.
With 1:05 left, the Jets kicked a field goal to take a 3 point lead.
NBC broke for a commercial, but when they came back it was not to football
but to a made-for-tv movie about that tough little alpine goat herder Heidi!
Millions of men rose from their chairs at that moment
convinced that somehow when they weren’t looking
their wives had come through and changed the channel.
I think it was only Neil Armstrong stepping on the moon the following July
that allowed football fans to get over the shock
of being marooned in such deep incompleteness.
So, all the joy of Easter morning and the beauty of the lilies notwithstanding,
any of you who listened to the scripture reading from Mark’s 16th chapter
are no doubt, right at this moment, feeling a little uneasy and unresolved.
It’s only natural.
Whereas all the other gospel writers end their gospels
with a flourish of angel wings and rejoicing and post resurrection appearances,
Mark ends his story on a discordant, minor note of fear.
He doesn’t really end it at all.
He just leaves us wondering if somebody snuck in and changed the channel
when we weren’t looking.
As chapter 16 of his gospel opens it LOOKS like Mark is going to finish in good form.
Chapter 16 opens with three brave women,
Mary from Magdala, Mary, the mother of Jesus, and Salome,
by tradition thought to be the wife of Zebedee, the mother of James and John.
They had seen Jesus taken from the cross, wrapped quickly in a linen cloth
and stuck into a borrowed tomb only minutes before the shofar blew
marking the beginning of the Sabbath.
Their self-appointed mission was to go to the tomb after the Sabbath
unwrap Jesus’ body and prepare it properly and respectfully for entombment.
It was their way of achieving closure,
of bringing an end to this roller coaster ride they’d been on with Jesus.
Their only question is, "Who can we get to roll the heavy stone away?"
So, they get to the tomb, and the stone has already been rolled away.
It’s the first indication they have that the story is NOT going to end as they expected.
All along the road from Galilee to Jerusalem
Jesus had spoken his troubling predictions
about being delivered into the hands of his enemies,
about being convicted, abused, and hung on a cross,
about being raised on the third day.
Everyone had listened politely but then quickly changed the subject.
It wasn’t unusual for them to not really understand what he was talking about,
and this seemed so far fetched, especially the "being raised" part
that they had just blocked it out.
But all of a sudden here they were.
Jesus HAD been arrested, HAD been convicted, HAD been crucified
and now the very tomb where, with their own eyes, they had seen him laid
this very tomb was STANDING WIDE OPEN!
We look over their shoulders as they peer cautiously through the door of the cave.
We know what’s coming but it’s still a tense moment.
Sure enough, the stone ledge is bare.
And standing on the right hand side of the ledge is a young man in a white robe
grinning like a Cheshire cat!
Seeing the looks on the women’s faces the young man speaks
"Do not be alarmed!"
"You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified.
He has been raised; he is not here."
The young man pats the ledge, "Look, here 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."
"That’s right! Go!" we chime in like a Greek chorus.
"Go to Galilee! He’s not here! He has risen!
Go to Galilee! Tell the others!"
We’ve heard it before. We’ve read Matthew and Luke and John
and know how the ending is supposed to go.
But I look into Salome’s eyes and I know we’re in trouble.
The two Marys also have shocked looks, looks of terror.
I want take one of them by the shoulder,
snap my fingers in front of her eyes until she can focus again,
assure her that this really is a GOOD thing.
"Look," I want to say,
"It’s not the ending you expected, but it’s an even BETTER ending!
Go ahead, laugh if you want to, it’s OK!
Shout praises to God!
Put down those death spices, you don’t need them anymore!"
That’s the kind of happy ending I want,
the kind of resolution I crave, all wrapped up, nice and tidy.
I want these brave and faithful women to enjoy the moment,
to be rewarded for sticking by Jesus even after Peter and the others
have run and hid.
They get to be the first witnesses to the resurrection, of Jesus’ victory over death.
They get the honor of bearing the message to the others,
of deciding just how they’re going to break the news.
Maybe they’ll decide to have a little fun with it,
creep up to the door of the room where the others are hiding
bang on the door and yell, "Police, open up!"
Then they’ll burst in and yell, "Surprise!"
THAT’S the kind of ending I want, the kind, in fact, I think Mark owes us
after taking us through the agony of the cross!
All along, Mark has crafted his story to make his reader, to make US,
expect his main characters to falter and his little people to triumph.
Part of what I love about Mark’s storytelling style
is that in his account, the head religious leaders come across as clueless
and the main disciples look like bumbling fools.
In Mark’s account it’s the demon possessed who recognize Jesus as God’s son.
It’s the blind who see his mission most clearly.
And, it’s women who consistently display the kind of devotion and loyalty
one would expect of a disciple.
That’s why chapter 16 starts off as the perfect scenario,
a great set-up for a dynamite climax.
The chief priests and Romans think they’ve won by crucifying Jesus.
Peter, James, and John are closeted away,
having deserted Jesus at a crucial moment.
And now these three women step forward.
Unclean by cultural designation, second class by social standing,
these women are about to defile themselves further by touching a dead body.
They are the perfect candidates to be Mark’s heroines,
the perfect ones to be Mark’s ultimate examples of true discipleship.
"He is not here, the young man says.
"Go, tell the others that he is going ahead of you to Galilee."
Ahh...We just need one more note to bring this story to resolution,
just one more turn of the dial and all the tumblers will click into place....
But what do we get? We get this!
"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."
It’s the "Heidi Game" all over again!
Nobody likes Mark’s ending.
Matthew and Luke, who used Mark as an outline for their own gospels
come to his ending and they do some heavy editing and adding on.
Some of the earliest manuscripts of Mark’s gospel in existence
have added more verses to chapter 16 hoping to bring his story
to a more satisfying conclusion.
But the very earliest manuscripts show Mark stopping awkwardly at verse 8
almost as if his teakettle whistled and he put down his pencil to make tea
and then forgot to pick it up again.
But maybe the answer to this problem is not to be embarrassed for Mark
that he botched the ending to an otherwise gripping story.
Maybe the answer is to realize that Mark’s ending is not meant to be an ending at all.
Maybe two thousand years before computers
Mark decided to write the first interactive story.
Seen this way, the first eight verses of chapter 16 are very clever.
Mark dupes us into anticipating an heroic triumph.
He makes us THINK we’re going to be able to just sit back and watch it unfold,
passively watch the three women hear the news of the resurrection
and then run and skip and laugh and rejoice all the way to tell the others
the fabulous news.
Mark has us believing we’re going to be able to walk away from his story
without having to get involved, without having to invest ourselves.
But then, all of a sudden, they’re gone.
The women, the anticipated stars of the story, have vanished.
They heard the young man say that their Risen Lord had gone ahead of them
and was expecting to meet them in Galilee
but all they can do is clam up and run away leaving US holding the bag.
They’re scared out of their wits, they ain’t sayin’ nuthin’ to nobody!
They’ve dumped the news in OUR laps,
And if anything’s going to be done it’s got to be you and me who does it!
Mark’s ending is that there is no ending.
Mark’s ending is that though victory over death has been won,
Our Risen Lord is always going to be going ahead of us, calling us to follow.
We’re like those disciples huddled behind the closed door.
We can’t depend on the two Mary’s and Salome to do the work for us.
Mark wants us to know that following Jesus is going to go against our need
to have things all wrapped up in a tidy package,
neatly resolved and conveniently closed.
Following Jesus is always going to be a challenge
It will always require us to step beyond what’s comfortable.
always ask us to keep the door open, our hands extended.
It’s not the ending we may have expected,
but maybe it’s an even better ending.
We’ve come to the tomb but he is not here. He’s in Galilee and Charlottesville,
and Afton, and Lynchburg.
He’s always going ahead of you and he wants to meet you there.
the need to have things come to a satisfying resolution.
There’s a certain symmetry to life
and it can be annoying to have things unfinished.
For example, it makes me crazy to be telling a story
and all of a sudden I can’t remember a name.
A few of you may have had that experience.
It could be my best friend I’m talking about
but the rolodex in my head is just closed.
I eventually have to move on with the story
but at some level it continues to eat at me.
Then, two hours later in the middle of another conversation with a different person
it’ll come to me and I’ll just blurt it out.
ABRAHAM Lincoln!
Ahhh...the universe is back in alignment.
We like to have things finished, have them resolved.
I can remember in my lifetime a national crisis of non-resolution.
I’m not talking about any particular war.
I’m talking about the "Heidi Game" of November, 1968.
The New York Jets, led by Broadway Joe Namath, with a record of 7 and 2
were playing the Oakland Raiders, also with a record of 7 and 2.
It had been an aerial show by the quarterback and a slugfest in the trenches
and the game had stretched on and on due to many penalties on each side.
With 1:05 left, the Jets kicked a field goal to take a 3 point lead.
NBC broke for a commercial, but when they came back it was not to football
but to a made-for-tv movie about that tough little alpine goat herder Heidi!
Millions of men rose from their chairs at that moment
convinced that somehow when they weren’t looking
their wives had come through and changed the channel.
I think it was only Neil Armstrong stepping on the moon the following July
that allowed football fans to get over the shock
of being marooned in such deep incompleteness.
So, all the joy of Easter morning and the beauty of the lilies notwithstanding,
any of you who listened to the scripture reading from Mark’s 16th chapter
are no doubt, right at this moment, feeling a little uneasy and unresolved.
It’s only natural.
Whereas all the other gospel writers end their gospels
with a flourish of angel wings and rejoicing and post resurrection appearances,
Mark ends his story on a discordant, minor note of fear.
He doesn’t really end it at all.
He just leaves us wondering if somebody snuck in and changed the channel
when we weren’t looking.
As chapter 16 of his gospel opens it LOOKS like Mark is going to finish in good form.
Chapter 16 opens with three brave women,
Mary from Magdala, Mary, the mother of Jesus, and Salome,
by tradition thought to be the wife of Zebedee, the mother of James and John.
They had seen Jesus taken from the cross, wrapped quickly in a linen cloth
and stuck into a borrowed tomb only minutes before the shofar blew
marking the beginning of the Sabbath.
Their self-appointed mission was to go to the tomb after the Sabbath
unwrap Jesus’ body and prepare it properly and respectfully for entombment.
It was their way of achieving closure,
of bringing an end to this roller coaster ride they’d been on with Jesus.
Their only question is, "Who can we get to roll the heavy stone away?"
So, they get to the tomb, and the stone has already been rolled away.
It’s the first indication they have that the story is NOT going to end as they expected.
All along the road from Galilee to Jerusalem
Jesus had spoken his troubling predictions
about being delivered into the hands of his enemies,
about being convicted, abused, and hung on a cross,
about being raised on the third day.
Everyone had listened politely but then quickly changed the subject.
It wasn’t unusual for them to not really understand what he was talking about,
and this seemed so far fetched, especially the "being raised" part
that they had just blocked it out.
But all of a sudden here they were.
Jesus HAD been arrested, HAD been convicted, HAD been crucified
and now the very tomb where, with their own eyes, they had seen him laid
this very tomb was STANDING WIDE OPEN!
We look over their shoulders as they peer cautiously through the door of the cave.
We know what’s coming but it’s still a tense moment.
Sure enough, the stone ledge is bare.
And standing on the right hand side of the ledge is a young man in a white robe
grinning like a Cheshire cat!
Seeing the looks on the women’s faces the young man speaks
"Do not be alarmed!"
"You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified.
He has been raised; he is not here."
The young man pats the ledge, "Look, here 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."
"That’s right! Go!" we chime in like a Greek chorus.
"Go to Galilee! He’s not here! He has risen!
Go to Galilee! Tell the others!"
We’ve heard it before. We’ve read Matthew and Luke and John
and know how the ending is supposed to go.
But I look into Salome’s eyes and I know we’re in trouble.
The two Marys also have shocked looks, looks of terror.
I want take one of them by the shoulder,
snap my fingers in front of her eyes until she can focus again,
assure her that this really is a GOOD thing.
"Look," I want to say,
"It’s not the ending you expected, but it’s an even BETTER ending!
Go ahead, laugh if you want to, it’s OK!
Shout praises to God!
Put down those death spices, you don’t need them anymore!"
That’s the kind of happy ending I want,
the kind of resolution I crave, all wrapped up, nice and tidy.
I want these brave and faithful women to enjoy the moment,
to be rewarded for sticking by Jesus even after Peter and the others
have run and hid.
They get to be the first witnesses to the resurrection, of Jesus’ victory over death.
They get the honor of bearing the message to the others,
of deciding just how they’re going to break the news.
Maybe they’ll decide to have a little fun with it,
creep up to the door of the room where the others are hiding
bang on the door and yell, "Police, open up!"
Then they’ll burst in and yell, "Surprise!"
THAT’S the kind of ending I want, the kind, in fact, I think Mark owes us
after taking us through the agony of the cross!
All along, Mark has crafted his story to make his reader, to make US,
expect his main characters to falter and his little people to triumph.
Part of what I love about Mark’s storytelling style
is that in his account, the head religious leaders come across as clueless
and the main disciples look like bumbling fools.
In Mark’s account it’s the demon possessed who recognize Jesus as God’s son.
It’s the blind who see his mission most clearly.
And, it’s women who consistently display the kind of devotion and loyalty
one would expect of a disciple.
That’s why chapter 16 starts off as the perfect scenario,
a great set-up for a dynamite climax.
The chief priests and Romans think they’ve won by crucifying Jesus.
Peter, James, and John are closeted away,
having deserted Jesus at a crucial moment.
And now these three women step forward.
Unclean by cultural designation, second class by social standing,
these women are about to defile themselves further by touching a dead body.
They are the perfect candidates to be Mark’s heroines,
the perfect ones to be Mark’s ultimate examples of true discipleship.
"He is not here, the young man says.
"Go, tell the others that he is going ahead of you to Galilee."
Ahh...We just need one more note to bring this story to resolution,
just one more turn of the dial and all the tumblers will click into place....
But what do we get? We get this!
"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."
It’s the "Heidi Game" all over again!
Nobody likes Mark’s ending.
Matthew and Luke, who used Mark as an outline for their own gospels
come to his ending and they do some heavy editing and adding on.
Some of the earliest manuscripts of Mark’s gospel in existence
have added more verses to chapter 16 hoping to bring his story
to a more satisfying conclusion.
But the very earliest manuscripts show Mark stopping awkwardly at verse 8
almost as if his teakettle whistled and he put down his pencil to make tea
and then forgot to pick it up again.
But maybe the answer to this problem is not to be embarrassed for Mark
that he botched the ending to an otherwise gripping story.
Maybe the answer is to realize that Mark’s ending is not meant to be an ending at all.
Maybe two thousand years before computers
Mark decided to write the first interactive story.
Seen this way, the first eight verses of chapter 16 are very clever.
Mark dupes us into anticipating an heroic triumph.
He makes us THINK we’re going to be able to just sit back and watch it unfold,
passively watch the three women hear the news of the resurrection
and then run and skip and laugh and rejoice all the way to tell the others
the fabulous news.
Mark has us believing we’re going to be able to walk away from his story
without having to get involved, without having to invest ourselves.
But then, all of a sudden, they’re gone.
The women, the anticipated stars of the story, have vanished.
They heard the young man say that their Risen Lord had gone ahead of them
and was expecting to meet them in Galilee
but all they can do is clam up and run away leaving US holding the bag.
They’re scared out of their wits, they ain’t sayin’ nuthin’ to nobody!
They’ve dumped the news in OUR laps,
And if anything’s going to be done it’s got to be you and me who does it!
Mark’s ending is that there is no ending.
Mark’s ending is that though victory over death has been won,
Our Risen Lord is always going to be going ahead of us, calling us to follow.
We’re like those disciples huddled behind the closed door.
We can’t depend on the two Mary’s and Salome to do the work for us.
Mark wants us to know that following Jesus is going to go against our need
to have things all wrapped up in a tidy package,
neatly resolved and conveniently closed.
Following Jesus is always going to be a challenge
It will always require us to step beyond what’s comfortable.
always ask us to keep the door open, our hands extended.
It’s not the ending we may have expected,
but maybe it’s an even better ending.
We’ve come to the tomb but he is not here. He’s in Galilee and Charlottesville,
and Afton, and Lynchburg.
He’s always going ahead of you and he wants to meet you there.
posted by David Cameron | 3:53 AM
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