Empty Promises

Mark 16:1-8

Georgetown Presbyterian Church

Rev. Stephen H. Wilkins

Easter Sunday

April 16, 2006

Philip was a severely handicapped child. And though he was handicapped, he was nevertheless happy, pleasant, and surprisingly perceptive. As he reached eight years of age, however, Philip became increasingly aware of the differences between him and his playmates, especially in his third-grade Sunday school class.

The teacher was soon aware that Philip was not really an accepted part of the class. The other eight-year-olds always maintained a distance between themselves and this kid who was "different."

One Sunday shortly before Easter, the teacher gave each child one of those big plastic eggs that panty hose come in. Then he let the children loose outside in the beautiful spring day to find things that symbolized new life.

The children ran all around the church yard, gathering any object that sparked their imagination with the idea of new life and putting those objects into their eggs. When they returned, they put all the eggs on a big table, and the teacher began to open them.

He opened the first and found a beautiful flower. There were oohs and aahs from the children as one by one the eggs revealed bright butterflies, budding twigs, bird feathers, and so on...

Then the teacher opened the last egg--and there was nothing inside. The other kids immediately realized whose egg it was--it was Philip’s egg. They groaned and muttered among themselves that Philip was too slow even for this simple activity.

The teacher felt a tug on his jacket and looked down. There was Philip, with a smile on his face. "It’s my egg," said Philip. "I put it there."

"What does it mean?" asked the teacher?

Philip grinned again. "It’s empty--the tomb is empty!"

And with that egg that was filled with nothing, little Philip demonstrated his grasp of one of the most simple, yet profound truths of Easter--the empty tomb. You see, Easter is not about what the women found, but what they didn’t find. For it is in the emptiness of the tomb that the promises of God are revealed to us.

Thank God that the women were not left to wonder on their own what was meant by the empty tomb. Thank God that there was a messenger to interpret for them, and for us, the meaning of the empty tomb. In the words of the messenger we find at least three promises. They are, if you will, empty promises. Not empty in the sense that they are void of meaning or legitimacy, but empty in the sense that they arise out of the fact of the empty tomb.

The messenger said to the women, "You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here!" And with those words, the messenger conveys to us the promise of power and victory over sin and death. The empty tomb is no accident; it is the proof of God’s victory over sin and death. On the cross, Christ died for our sins. Death is the result of our sinfulness. The wages of sin is death. Jesus was without sin, yet for our sakes he became sin on the cross. The death that Jesus died, he died for us. He paid the penalty that was ours to pay. He died, and he was buried.

And he is risen! The tomb is empty! "The sting of death is sin, but thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!"

Do you see what this means? It means that sin and death do not win. It means that the Herods and the Pilates of this world have not won. It means that evil does not have the upper hand. It means that in the midst of all the brokenness of our world, there is a power that is greater, a power to restore, a power to heal. It means that there is nothing in all of creation that is able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

The resurrection of Jesus from the grave is at the center of our faith. It is the center of our faith. Without the resurrection, we above all people are to be pitied for believing in a lie. But there is a resurrection. The tomb is empty. He is risen!

And just as by dying on the cross Jesus paid the penalty of sin that was due to us, so is his resurrection victory accorded to all who believe in him. As in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive. The empty tomb is God’s promise of power and victory over sin and death.

And the empty tomb is the promise of presence. The messenger said to the women, "Go, tell his disciples and Peter, ‘He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.’"

For three years, Jesus’ disciples walked with Jesus. They were in his presence, they were given power through faith, they were taught the ways of the kingdom of heaven. For three years, the disciples were part of an amazing invasion of the kingdom of heaven into our world.

And then Jesus died, and the disciples ran away. Jesus was no more. Now the disciples were without Jesus. Jesus was just a memory. And you can’t sustain the kingdom of heaven on the basis of a memory.

But the resurrection changed all that. Because the tomb is empty, because of what the messenger said to the women, Jesus is not just a memory; he is a presence. Because he lives, his presence is real. Because he lives, his power is still made known to us through faith. Because he lives, he speaks to us and still teaches us the ways of the kingdom of heaven. Because he lives, the kingdom of heaven is still at hand.

Just as the disciples walked in the presence of Jesus for three years, so do all who believe in him do so today. Because he lives, our lives are given purpose and meaning, as we follow him wherever he leads us.

In your Bible you will find an interesting note that separates the eighth and ninth verses of this sixteenth chapter of Mark’s gospel. While the gospel itself does not end until the 20^th verse, the consensus among the vast majority of biblical experts is that Mark’s words end at verse eight. It doesn’t mean that the verses that follow are not true; it simply means that a few generations after Mark wrote the gospel, someone else tacked on those extra resurrection stories.

And if you agree with that assessment, then here’s an interesting thought: the gospel that Mark wrote has no clear end. It ends with the bewildered women going away. But maybe that’s the way Mark meant it. Maybe Mark wrote his gospel without a clear ending, because the resurrection implies that there is no end. Jesus is risen, and he has gone ahead of us to Galilee, and to Georgetown, and to the Low Country and to the Upstate, and throughout this land, and across the ocean, and to the ends of the earth. Mark’s gospel doesn’t have an ending, because it isn’t over. Christ has died, and Christ is risen. And Christ is present now, inviting you and me into a new life transformed by the power of the resurrection and the living Lord.

That’s the promise of Christ’s presence--it isn’t over yet!

Finally, there is the promise of personal reconciliation with God. You might not notice it at first glance, but it’s there. It’s a promise that is hidden in two words spoken by the messenger: and Peter. Tell the disciples and Peter that he has gone ahead of you... Do you realize the power of those two simple words? By naming Peter, Jesus erases all that took place on the night of his arrest. By naming Peter, Jesus declares that Peter’s three denials are in the past, that those denials were also nailed to the cross, that those denials are forgiven, that now with the resurrection there is a new beginning.

And as the messenger utters those two words, and Peter, he reminds us that no matter what you or I may have done to put distance between ourselves and God, all that was put to death on the cross. No matter what we may have done to put distance between ourselves and God, the resurrection brings with it the promise of personal reconciliation.

And so we are reminded that the gospel is a personal gospel; the forgiveness of the cross and the new life of the resurrection is not just a vague promise, but a personal word to you and to me. In just a few moments we will celebrate the Lord’s Supper. And when you hear the words of institution, "This is my body, which is for you," and, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood, poured out for you," you can take it personally. You can know that Jesus died and was raised not only for the world, but also for you. The empty tomb is the promise of personal reconciliation with God. It is the declaration that you matter to Jesus. It is God’s way of saying how precious you are to him.

I opened today’s message with a story about a young boy named Philip. A couple of years after that story took place, Philip died of complications from his severe disabilities. His funeral was attended by many, including his Sunday school classmates. At the gravesite, instead of laying a rose on the casket, each of his classmates placed an egg--a large, empty plastic egg.

The tomb is empty. But so full of promise.

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!