While It Was Still Dark

Finding hope in a hopeless time.

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb.

-John 20:1

John has never been my favorite gospel; that prize goes to Luke. But this story in John of the resurrection happens to be one of my favorites. On Easter Sunday 2022, I preached on this text and focused on the words “while it was still dark.” Those words say so much in this text. We read these texts so much that we forget the meaning at times. When the text says “while it was still dark,” the writer of John is not just telling us the time of the day. The writer is also telling us the mood that opens this act. As I said in that sermon:

“Mary makes her way sensing the darkness. There is no hope at all. She was healed by Jesus and she saw others being healed by this same Jesus. Jesus had become a friend. Then out of nowhere, Jesus, her friend of many years was put to death by an uncaring empire. Another good man was executed by the state. She resigned herself to believe she would never see this man again.”

When Mary makes her way to the tomb, she is feeling a sense of despair. A good man was executed by the state. A friend was murdered. There's nothing much else to do but care for his broken body.

There is a sense of darkness in Mary’s soul, and that reflects the darkness in the world. Going back to that Easter sermon, I shared mirrored Mary’s darkness to the war in Ukraine, which had started only a few months before:

This past week, the New York Times presented an in-depth story about the atrocities committed by the Russian army in the village of Bucha. They tell the stories of various Ukrainians who lost their lives during the Russian occupation. There was a woman who simply opened her door and was shot dead. A month later her body still lays in the doorway. A middle-aged man went out to get a loaf of bread made by neighbors. He was shot and his body was found in the middle of the street. It would be days before his family could reach the body and send it to the morgue. A gentleman comes back to his home only to find it ransacked. He goes downstairs to find a woman, dead clad in just a fur coat. Two bullets to her head put an end to her life. There were signs that this woman had been sexually abused before the Russians killed her.

There are other stories not just in the Times but in other publications that talk about the brutality of the Russian soldiers towards Ukrainian civilians, many of which are far too disturbing to share here. As Ukrainians prepare to celebrate Easter, they see that darkness. While it was still dark truly means something to them.

Mary would have another sense of shock when she came to the tomb and found it empty. Her world was now spinning. It was bad enough to see her friend die, but then to see his body stolen? She didn’t think things could get any worse, but they did.

I think about the beginning of the resurrection story in John in light of the response to our current political situation. Whether I’m doomscrolling on social media, looking at headlines or listening to podcasts, I am surprised at how many people seem to think American democracy is on the wane if not already over. Personally, I am afraid for this country right now. What I’m seeing causes me to worry that we are slipping into authoritarianism if we aren’t already there. I still don’t believe Trump is Hitler, but becoming an authoritarian caudillo isn’t an improvement.

A few weeks ago, I wondered if we would be okay. I said back then that I didn’t know if things would be okay. What I did know is that God is always with us and will never leave us.I still believe God will be with us, but now I don’t think we will be okay. When you have an administration scanning social media to target immigrants, it can’t be too long before they start targeting citizens. Trump isn’t interested in being a leader; he simply wants to rule. What it means to rule is to rule by fear. We live in a time of the “dual state,” a society divided in two, with one part operating within the law, while running alongside the normal part is a lawless side.

Things are not okay, and it is very likely it will get worse. Over the last few days and weeks, I’ve come to the conclusion that no one is coming to save us. We might get through this, but that means we have to go through all of this, and none of us with come through unscathed.

We are all living where it is still dark. We’ve come to our own tombs and find the body is gone, fearing the worst. Like Mary, we are left crying, wondering if all hope is lost.

And then Jesus shows up. Mary doesn’t recognize Jesus at first. It’s only when he speaks her name, “Mary.” When she hears her name, she realizes it’s Jesus. Jesus was there amid her loneliness and pain. The empty tomb brought pain and grief, but when she realized Jesus was alive, that tomb became something different- it became hope.

In this season of Easter, we believe that Jesus is not in the tomb, but alive and living among us. We believe the tomb is empty. That should mean something in our hearts, but I also think it means something in our world. It means that evil doesn’t have the last word.

The resurrection has a personal function, but it also has a public function. It has implications beyond our individual lives. Theologian Carmen Joy Imes writes about what Jesus’ rising from the dead means for the powers that oppress us in this world:

The resurrection of Jesus initiates more than just an internal sense of well-being or a promise of a life after this one. It’s also thoroughly political. The systems of this world wield the sword against all who challenge their rule. When Jesus rose from the dead, every worldly abuse of power was put on notice: rulers who are not aligned with God’s priorities face the certainty of judgment. In Christ, those swords will be confiscated, and authority returned to the One who gave it in the first place. The resurrection functions as the announcement of the defeat of the powers that be, representing a change in regime.

What this means is that the current regime, no matter how powerful, no matter what it can do to us, is not ultimate. It has been put on notice by the God of the universe. It will end. It will not succeed because of the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.

As I concluded my Easter sermon in 2022, I highlighted the sanctuary was adorned with sunflowers. I shared that the sunflower was the national flower of Ukraine, so we had them up to show solidarity. Sunflowers symbolize hope and peace and what really fascinated me is that sunflowers can pull toxins up from the ground, so the flowers were planted in areas contaminated by nuclear accidents at Chernobyl and Fukushima. The hope is that they will aid in the cleanup of these areas.

In the hope of the resurrection, could the church be sunflowers in our world? As Mary went to tell the disciples that she had seen Jesus, can we as his followers do the same through acts like standing with immigrants, providing social services for those in need, gathering in prayer, attending town halls and other moments of presence? In a time of rising paganism where the strong prey on the weak, can the church be a people embodying God’s presence and pulling out the toxins in our society?

It is hard to follow the news and think things are out of control because they are. It’s easy to feel hopeless. But we Christians are people of the resurrection. We believe in hope. It doesn’t mean things will be wonderful. It may be a long time before things get better. But what we know is that the tomb is empty, and because of this, we know the things that seek to oppress us won’t have the last say. Knowing that, we can go out in service to others.

It’s still dark. But after a time, morning does come.