Names of Wondrous Love—The Light

Easter Sunday, 3/31/13
John 20:1-2, 11-18


Names of Wondrous Love—The Light
I. Dark night
II. Gray dawn
III. Glorious light


Have you ever spent more time that you wanted inside a tunnel, really or psychologically? Most of us have.
We don’t have any such long tunnels in southwest Ohio, but I’m told they do in mountainous areas. Perhaps you’ve driven through one. You’re fine as you first enter it, but then you realize how distant the other end is. You can see the light at the end of that tunnel, but it seems so far away. And then your mind begins to imagine the worst—you imagine your vehicle runs out of gas, or, worse yet, there’s a tunnel collapse. You dread every second of the remaining journey. How good it feels once you’re out in the light again!

Others have experienced much the same psychologically. Fear, dread, depression set in like a fog. You able to speak and move, but things just feel so closed in. It doesn’t seem like you’re going anywhere, and even when you do feel like you’re making progress, you realize you have no idea where you are or where you’re going. You’re in a tunnel.

One way of looking at the season of Lent is that it’s like being in a tunnel. We spent hours traveling with our Savior on the way to the cross. It’s been a somber, serious, solemn season. We’ve been graphically reminded our sins and what those sins cost our beloved Savior. We’ve gone home from our Lenten worship deeply mindful of the punishment we deserve from our holy God and what our Savior suffered in our place.

But this morning, everything is different. We began our worship not in solemn silence as we did last Friday, but with joyful shouts of “Alleluia!” Today we drive out of the Lenten tunnel and into the full sunshine of another Easter, the celebration of our Lord’s resurrection from the dead. In that resurrection joy we look this morning at another one of our Savior’s names of wondrous love. This Easter morning that name is The Light. And what a saving, glorious, eternal Light Jesus is!

Part I.

I spoke a minute ago about being in the darkness of a tunnel. It’s no fun being in the dark anywhere. It’s confusing. You don’t know where familiar objects are. You can quickly become disoriented. It can even become dangerous.

Our sermon text begins with the words, “Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb.” John mentions the fact that it was still night. The darkness of the night matched the darkness of Mary’s heart. How do I know that? Because Mary was experiencing what all of us have experienced—the loss, the despair, the grief over the death of a loved one. But Mary’s darkness went deeper than grief. All her hopes had been dashed. You see, ever since Jesus had driven seven demons out of Mary, she had willingly, loving followed him, serving him out of her faith in him as her Savior. But now there was only darkness.

That darkness had started that last Friday. Not only was the sky over Calvary pitch black at high noon, but so was her heart. Not only was the tomb where they buried Jesus devoid of light, so was her spirit. How could all these terrible things have happened to her Savior, the One on whom she had pinned all her hopes? We can imagine the blackness she felt as she later sobbed to Peter and John, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have laid him.”

It was as if Mary was in a tunnel without an exit. First, they crucified her Lord, and now they had stolen his body. She had hoped to ease her grief by being able to serve him in love one last time by embalming his body, giving him a decent Jewish burial. But now she was robbed even of that. The darkness of additional grief seeped into her heart. For Mary, it would always be dark night.

Do you know how she felt? Is there anyone here who has wept in grief at the fresh grave of a loved one, only to return and weep there again and again? Is there anyone here who is tired of the struggle with life, getting tired of its burdens and worn out by all the effort it takes just to go on living? Is there anyone worried about health, family members, employment, finances, the future? Is there anyone who feels the stab of guilt or loses the daily battle with temptations? Do you feel as if you’ve been shoved into a dark tunnel without daylight in sight? Then stay right where you are, because, as we follow Mary Magdalene, dark night runs into gray dawn.

Part II.

If you’ve ever had a sleepless night, you know what it’s like waiting for dawn. It seems like it’s never going to arrive. You listen to the incessant ticking of the clock on the wall and it just about drives you crazy. The clicks tell you that the clock is moving but it seems as if time has stopped, or at least is barely creeping along. But then it happen. Dawn arrives.

Night turned to dawn for Mary and in the gray dawn light she could see that the stone had been rolled away from the tomb.

With just a little thinking, Mary could have figured out that the disciples couldn’t have done it. What would they have had to gain by rolling away the stone and stealing the body of Jesus in order to spread the lie that Jesus had risen just as he said? No one would believe that because Jesus would be nowhere to be found. What’s more, the disciples were so paralyzed with fear even to plan such things, let alone carry the plan out.
And with a little more thinking, Mary should have known that Jesus’ enemies had nothing to do with rolling away the stone either. That was the very thing his enemies were trying to prevent. That was the purpose for the Roman guard being posted. They had killed Jesus and they wanted his body to stay right there so that people would soon forget about this imposter.

But dawn was breaking. By this time, Jesus had already appeared alive to the other women. He would appear to Peter. Later that day he would appear to the two disciples on the way to Emmaus. The exit from the darkness of Calvary’s tunnel was in sight. Easter light was dawning.

Again, is there anyone here that knows that feeling? You leave here from Sunday worship feeling renewed and strengthened. Your spirits have been lifted by your Savior in his word and sacrament. But then the grind that is life dims your joy. Or how about this one? We’re filled with hope and joy as we sing, “I know that my Redeemer lives. What comfort this sweet sentence gives.” But that joy and comfort seem far away as you stand at a loved one’s grave or you realize it’s not so long before your loved ones will be standing over yours. We’re filled with Easter peace, hope and joy now, but then the fog of pain and problems, strife and stress settles in and it seems as if Easter is over for another year. Sound familiar? If so, stay with me. Listen as we follow Mary from gray dawn to morning’s glorious light.

Part III.

Dawn doesn’t last long. It’s the short period between night and day.

So it was that first Easter. Just as the sun appeared and filled Mary’s world with glorious light, so the Son appeared and filled Mary’s heart with glorious light. In the darkness of dawn, Mary had seen the stone rolled away from the tomb. She had run back into the city to report it to the others. A little later, now in full daylight, Mary returned to the tomb. And then it happened! As she wept over the loss of her Lord, she turned and saw a man standing next to her. In her grief she didn’t recognize him. But when he said, “Mary,” her heart skipped a beat. She called out to him, “Rabboni!” This was her Teacher, her Master, her Lord! She had seen them lay his dead body in the tomb late Friday, but now here he was standing before her alive! Her tears dried up. Her grief melted away. The burden of death was lifted from her heart.

What a day it would be for Mary and the rest of Jesus’ followers! What wondrous truths his resurrection brought to light. First, his resurrection meant that the debt of sin had been paid. Yes, Jesus had been delivered over to death for our offenses, but he had been raised for our justification. They were declared not guilty! By raising his beloved Son from the dead, the Father was assuring every sinner that every sin had been paid for in full.

Truth two of the resurrection: Satan had been defeated forever. Yes, he had bruised the Savior’s heal, but Jesus had crushed his head. Already by this time the risen and living Savior had descended into hell to lay the old, evil foe in the dust of defeat. No more would hell hold us!

And three, death would no longer hold us either. The grave had lost its sting. Just as Jesus exited the darkness of his grave, so will we. Because he lives, we live even though we die. His resurrection on Easter assures us that we will rise on the Last Day. These truths filled Mary and the followers of Jesus with glorious light—saving, eternal light.

Anyone here who knows the feeling? I hope there are plenty of you who respond, “You bet, Pastor! I not only have seen the glorious light of Christ, I live in it daily.” Easter’s glorious light lifts us up above the daily battles and puts a spring in our step. Easter’s glorious light brightens our darkest days and keeps the smile of faith on our faces. Easter’s glorious light shines down on our deathbeds and floods even our deaths with the glorious light of life, a life that cannot be extinguished. Long after our graves are forgotten and the etching on our gravestones has faded, people of God like us will still find their greatest joy and comfort in the risen Savior who said, “I am the LIGHT of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12).

Today we are leaving the dark tunnel of Lent for the glorious light of Easter. Someday we’ll enter another tunnel, the dark tunnel of death. But at the end of that tunnel stands our risen Savior, Jesus, who is truly the Light of the world. What a day that will be when we can join Mary and the others in singing praises to his name of wondrous love, The Light! Amen.