Scripture: John 20:1–18
Can I tell you this morning about Marcus? I saw this week the story of this grocery store checkout clerk on the overnight shift. Posted on Instagram on an account named “thespiritualbeginning,” Marcus shares his story of working during a time when only the insomniacs and overnight workers show up. One night, one of those regulars bought groceries totaling $17 and change. Before he left, the customer paused. He asked the clerk if he could write something on the receipt. It didn’t matter what, “just something a human wrote to another human.” Marcus obliged, and the man said “Thank you. You are the first person I have spoken to in six days.”
The post makes the point how often we go through life missing each other. We drive past each other. Walk past each other. Sit in the coffee shop or restaurant and never notice the people sitting right next to us. Or even at the same table as us. Perhaps we live alone and barely talk to another person for a whole day…or week…or month. Perhaps we live in a house full of people, and still barely ever talk to a human. So often our phones—devices that have this incredible power to connect us—end up distracting us from ever looking up, ever connecting to another human, ever looking someone else in the eye. The casualty of this experience is that so many people feel even more isolated than they did before. Never seen. Never heard.
As the post suggests, “In a world that never sleeps… there are hearts that quietly break in the dark. This story isn’t about a grocery store. It’s about the invisible loneliness people carry every day — the kind that doesn’t scream, doesn’t show… but slowly silences a person from the inside.”
I would suggest that this is a rather universal human experience. We don’t have to look simply at the technology of the last 20 years to find those isolated and unseen. In fact, look again at the Gospel of John through this lens. Perhaps better than all the other Gospels, John tells stories of individuals, very often isolated and alone. Nicodemus comes to Jesus alone at night. The Woman at the Well is isolated and judged in her own community. A man sits by himself by the side of a pool for 38 years. It is a part of the human experience to wonder if anyone notices us. We could imagine any of these individuals asking, “could you just write something on this receipt so that I know that I was seen today?”
Perhaps that is the story of Mary of Magdala. She is a fascinating figure in the New Testament. Her appearances are occasional and partial, and we don’t know a lot of details about her life, especially in the Gospel of John. In John, she shows up for the first time at the cross, with the other women. But in this passage, we know two things about her: her isolation and grief. Two experiences that often go hand in hand. John tells us that she is alone at the tomb. Perhaps she came with other women, but now she stands by herself. She finds the stone moved, and tells others, but then they leave, and she returns to the tomb in physical and emotional isolation. Even the angels identify her isolation: “Whom are you looking for?” Her answer sounds a bit like the man in the grocery store: even a dead body would make me feel less alone. The Gospel tells us no less than four times about her tears. She weeps: alone, afraid, confused, isolated, grieving.
Scholar Karoline Lewis says that what happens next is the big payoff for the Gospel of John. Months ago, I talked about a storytelling tool named Chekov’s device, named for a playwright who used foreshadowing to introduce a detail of the story that would come back at an important time later in the story: you don’t introduce a gun into the story unless it will be shot later. And look at the Chekov’s devices we have seen for 20 chapters of John. The Gospel begins with images of creation, when God spoke and the chaos and darkness became order and life. It continues with the language of God appearing as Logos, Word, what some Bible translators translate as “Voice.” Later, Jesus preaches a sermon where he refers to himself as the Good Shepherd: “the sheep know the Shepherd by the sound of his voice.” Finally, just a few chapters ago, John tells us the story of a man named Lazarus, who responded to the voice of Jesus to rise from the dead and come out of the tomb. Huh…I wonder if any will come back later in the story….
Perhaps when a woman stands in the garden, isolated and alone. But in fact, she is not by herself, as there is someone right next to her. Yet, even as he is right beside her, she does not really see him. Blinking away tears, grieving and alone, she cannot see who it is…until a voice speaks her name: “Mary.” And all at once, the rush of emotion and joy and abundant life and Resurrection come over her all at once. The whole story makes sense! God speaks, and creation blinks into being. God speaks, and the sheep know his voice. God speaks, and the dead walk out of their graves. God speaks, and the lonely and afraid know that they are loved.
And know that they are called. I would suggest that the voice of Jesus empowers the voice of Mary. As I said, the story of Mary of Magdala is rather incomplete in the Gospels, but that doesn’t mean that the Church throughout history didn’t try and fill in the gaps. In fact, history has suggested that Mary must have been a prostitute that followed Jesus, thankful that he freed her from her sins. A fascinating story, but not one that is actually in the Bible! What the Gospels actually say is that she was a bold and courageous disciple of Jesus. When the other disciples flee at Jesus’ arrest, Mary and the other women boldly stay beside him at the cross. When the other women and two of the disciples leave after finding the tomb empty, Mary boldly stays alone in the garden, in the dark, by herself. Even when she is convinced that grave robbers have stolen his body, Mary is ready to boldly march into wherever they are and take it back. This is a bold, courageous follower of Jesus! It is any wonder then, that this is the person who Jesus chooses to appear to first. Chooses to send to tell the world the good news of the Resurrection. Chooses to ordain as the first Easter preacher. His voice empowers her voice, and Mary is able to return to the disciples, and the first Easter preacher preaches the first Easter sermon to the disciples: I have seen the Lord!
Let all of that settle in for a minute. The way that Mary of Magdala experiences Jesus is not generic or generalized. It is personal. It is specific. It is individual. Jesus does not call out to her, “Generic greetings, random child of God.” He calls her by name: “Mary.” Her name matters. Her body matters. Her identity matters. Her voice matters.
Let me put it another way: Jesus is not resurrected only for all of us. Jesus is resurrected for each of us. If you understand anything about the Resurrection this morning, may it be this: it was for you. Yes, it was for your neighbor. Yes, it was for all of creation. Yes, it was for all people in all times and in all places. But please do not walk out of here this morning until you understand…The Resurrection was for you. Easter is for you. I wish I could walk around to everyone here and at home and look into your eyes and tell you individually: it was for you. Everything changed when Jesus called out, “Mary.” I pray that today you understand that Jesus calls you, through your grief, through your confusion, through your pain, through your hurting. And not just in some generic, random way. Just like Jesus transformed Mary in that moment, I pray that this Easter you hear again, or maybe for the first time, Jesus calls you by name. In the garden he seeks you out because you matter. Your name matters. Your body matters. Your identity matters. Your voice matters. Easter is for all of us. And Easter is for each of us.
I think that is what is at the heart of the story of Marcus, the grocery store clerk. That encounter with the man late at night inspired Marcus to not only write on that man’s receipt, but it became a habit. A note here. A smiley face there. Every single receipt that he handed out had something written on it: “You matter.” “Someone sees you.” “Hope tomorrow is better.” And eventually, those receipts started to make a difference:
A woman buying cat food at 3 am looked up with tears in her eyes. “I’m going through a divorce and living alone for the first time in 32 years. Your notes are the first kind words I’ve gotten in months. I’ve been saving them and have fourteen of them on my fridge.”
Others got these notes, and it caused them to start to look up. Notice each other. People learned each other’s names, and greeted each other in the store.
The man who had asked for that first receipt came back, six months later. He pulled something out of his pocket. It was that first receipt, and he had laminated. He told Marcus “I kept this in my wallet for months. It was proof that someone had seen me. You saved my life.”
I want everyone who can hear my voice to hear the voice of Jesus today: it was for you. The Rabbi who saw Mary…sees you. Whatever your loneliness or isolation or grief or pain or tears look like today…there is Someone who has conquered death itself for you.
It was all for you.
Leave a Reply