THE SWEETEST SOUND ON EASTER MORNING

THE SWEETEST SOUND ON EASTER MORNING
John 20.1–18

We have just read a passage from the Gospel of John describing what happened some 2,000 years ago.

Though it took place so many years ago, the context of the events is similar to what we are doing this morning here at MacRitchie.

First, it was a Sunday then; it is a Sunday today.

Second, it was very early in the morning, as the sun was rising; so it is today, early morning as the sun is rising.

Third, the events described in John’s Gospel took place in a garden. Today, we are here in a beautiful garden surrounded by trees, the grass beneath us, and the sky above us.

The title of my message is The Sweetest Sound on Easter Morning. What is the sweetest sound on Easter Morning, this morning?

Let me ask us to do something. Could we close our eyes and open our ears to listen? What do we hear? The sound of birds chirping, of the breeze blowing from the reservoir, the rustling of leaves in the trees, or under our feet?

Is that the sweetest sound on Easter Morning? Let us keep our eyes closed as I pray:

“Lord, open our ears to hear your Word, open our hearts to receive it, and help us to hear from the Lord Jesus the sweetest sound you sent that first Easter Morning. Through His name we pray. Amen.”

MARY’S GRIEF

Let me take you back to the events John described for us in his Gospel, events that happened a long time ago.

Let us focus on one of the key characters, Mary Magdalene. She is mentioned in the first verse in John 20, and again in verse 11, and in the last verse, 18, in our passage.

She is there from beginning to the end. I want us first to feel her grief as she made her way to the tomb where Jesus’ body had been laid.

First, her grief came from the death of Jesus. She was there at the cross, witnessing the last hours of Jesus before he died.

This grief is compounded by the fact that she could not perform the usual rite of embalming the dead with spices.

Jesus died as the sabbath was starting, and no one was allowed to work, and embalming could not be done. So she had to wait till sabbath or Saturday was over.

That is why she was there so early on Sunday morning. That was the earliest time she could find to bring spices to embalm the body.

But when she arrived at the tomb, her grief is further compounded when she found the tomb opened and the body gone.

She had lost someone who meant so much to her. She could not perform the usual rite of embalming to honour someone who had died. Now she could not even have a body to grieve over.

Some of you may remember something that happened on 19 December 1997.

Silk Air flight MI 185 left Jakarta, bound for Singapore. It was cruising at 35,000 feet when the plane suddenly plunged towards earth.
The aircraft broke into pieces before impact, killing all 104 passengers and crew on board.

The devastation was so great that not a complete body, body part or limb was found. The debris scattered over several kilometres, much of which sank to the bottom of the Musi River in Indonesia.

Of the 104 passengers and crew, only six bodies were recovered and positively identified. The rest could not be recovered or identified.

For many relatives who lost their loved ones in the crash, it was a double tragedy. First, their loved ones were killed. Second, their bodies were never found.

Today as we look at the account of Mary Magdalene, she faced the same compounded tragedy.

The one she had followed and loved was killed. Then the body which was laid in a tomb went missing.

Her grief over the death of her Master was compounded by the fact she did not even have a body to grieve over.

Her grief was deep and overwhelming.
Grief over the death of her Lord and Master.

Grief compounded because she could not embalm the body.
Now grief further compounded because the body was gone.

MARY’S PAST

She is known to us as Mary Magdalene. That is because she came from a place called Magdala.

Mary Magdalene is mentioned in all the four gospels. She is mentioned in all the accounts of the crucifixion and the resurrection.

She was probably the last to leave the crucifixion scene, and certainly the first to arrive at the resurrection scene.

Other than her mention at these places, the only other place we read of her is Luke 8.2.

We are told that travelling with Jesus were "...also some women who had been cured of evil spirits and diseases: Mary (called Magdalene) from whom seven demons had come out."

We often think of the twelve disciples as those travelling with Jesus during the three years of his public ministry.
But Luke tells us that besides the men, there were women too. These women provided support services (Luke 8.3): finances, and perhaps, services like cooking meals and washing laundry.

(Obviously, good food and clean clothes did not come about by miracles.)

Why did these women join Jesus and support his ministry? They were convicted of what Jesus was doing, or were grateful for what Jesus had done for them—or both.

We know that, for Mary Magdalene, seven demons had been cast out of her. She was grateful for the deliverance, and convinced that Jesus was the Deliverer, the Messiah.

Let us think about Mary for a few moments. What was she like? How did she feel about herself? How did she feel about Jesus?

Seven demons had made their home in her body. For how long, we do not know.

What demons were these? Were they demons of lust, sexual promiscuity, lies, violence, suicide—we do not know.

But we do know that those who live under the bondage of demonic oppression live a terrible and horrible life. They are tormented and tortured in their mind and in their body.

Mary must have struggled with many issues in her life before she met Jesus.

She could have been a prostitute. We know that Jesus went out especially to such people.

She could have been a manic depressive person, or a violently aggressive person. We do not know for sure.

Whatever she used to be, demonic forces held her in bondage. Jesus set her free.

I can imagine the day it happened. One by one, the demons left her, at the command of Jesus.

One, two, three, four—they counted; five, six;

they thought every one was out.
No, there was one more, who refused to leave. Jesus commanded again, and the demon, the last demon, left shrieking and screaming.

I can imagine Mary falling to the ground, as if dead. The battle was over. Jesus bent over her.
"Mary," he whispered, almost in her ear, "Mary, they are all gone. It's all over. It's all right now."

Mary looked up at Jesus' face, and as if by instinct, said, "Rabboni!" or "Teacher!"
From that day onwards, she became his disciple.

At last, Mary felt her mind clear, her body clean, her spirit cleansed.

She was herself again. She no longer belonged to the devil and his demons.

Immediately, she gave herself to the Lord. From that day onwards, she followed Jesus.

Every time she looked at the face of Jesus, she saw compassion.
Every time she heard the voice of Jesus, she heard authority.
Every time she felt the hand of Jesus, she felt strength and love.

She knew that, if not for Jesus, her life was hell, intolerable, not worth living.
She knew that, with Jesus, life was heaven, every day a new day, free to be herself, free to be what God wants her to be.

MARY’S GRIEF

Then her world collapsed. Jesus, whom she had held up as the Messiah, the Deliverer, the Son of the Living God, was seized, man-handled, slammed on a cross, and left to die.

First, there were the questions: Why could he not save himself?
He had helped so many people, including casting demons out from her—why could he not save himself?

Then, there was the outpouring of inconsolable grief: How could this be happening to Someone who has come to mean so much to her?
O God, how could this be happening?

No wonder, Mary was at the crucifixion. She could not tear herself away from her Lord.

As he had been with her, she must stay with him.
I imagine that she, though tired, exhausted, shedding tears till she had no more tears to shed—she stayed at the cross.

I can imagine she left only when they took the body of Jesus away. Even then, she followed to see where the body was laid.

MARY’S JOY

No wonder, she was at the grave that Easter morning. She could not tear herself away from her Lord.
Even if he was dead, she needed to be near him.

That was when she heard the sweetest sound, sweetest sound on Easter morning.
It did not come from the birds chirping in the trees or the breeze blowing through the branches.

She had gone to the tomb early in the morning, when it was still dark. It could have been 4 or 5 in the morning.

It was strange, unusual, and dangerous, for a woman to be venturing out when it was still dark.
But Mary was there, before the crack of dawn.

There in the dim light of the moon, she saw that the stone covering the entrance to the grave had been rolled aside.

Her first thought was that those who killed Jesus were not content in killing him. They had gone a step further: they had desecrated his grave and stolen his body.

That was what she ran back to the two disciples Peter and John.
She blurted breathlessly to them, "They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don't know where they have put him!" (John 20.2).

Peter and John ran to the tomb, and found that it was indeed so: the body was gone.

They left, but Mary stood outside the grave, crying.
She had lost her master and friend. Not only that, even the body was gone.

Mary must have felt that double blow of grief and loss. Then she heard a voice, "Woman, why are you crying?"

She was so absorbed in her grief that she did not even turn around.
She sobbed, "They have taken my Lord away, and I don't know where they have put him."

Then she turned around. The morning had not broken, and it was still dim.
Her eyes were swollen with weeping, and she could not see very well.

The stranger asked again, "Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?"

Thinking that he was the gardener tending the tomb, she pleaded,
"Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him."

Her thought was getting the body back to the tomb.
She had gone to the tomb that morning, without a thought about how she was going to roll away the massive stone.
Now she was going to find the body, without a thought about how she was going to carry the body single-handedly.

It was at this point that she heard the sweetest sound on Easter morning. It was just one word: "Mary."

It is strange that Mary did not recognise that it was Jesus when he spoke to her—when he asked her those questions.
She only recognised Jesus when he spoke her name.

Our name is our most precious possession.
We can hear it above the noise and crowds.
We can see it amidst the mass of letters and words.

When we look at a group photo, our face gets our first attention.
When we wait at a clinic or an airport lounge, when our name is called, we hear it immediately.

Our name always gets our first attention.
Our name is the sweetest sound. Jesus called Mary by her name, and dissolved in one word all her sorrow, all her pain, all her loss.

How did Mary recognise Jesus through the sound of her name?
Because that was not the first time he had called her by name.

Remember: when she was delivered of the seven demons?
We imagined how Jesus must have bent over her and whispered her name,
"Mary, they are all gone. It's all over. It's all right now."

Now, at the tomb, on that first Easter morning, the same message was given to her:
"Mary, it's all over. It's all right now."

SWEETEST SOUND

This Easter morning, I want us to listen to the sweetest sound, Jesus calling us our name.

Can you hear it? Jesus is risen, he is alive, he is standing among us. He is speaking to you. He is calling you by name.

Jesus delivered Mary from her past, a tortured life tormented by seven demons.

Jesus delivered Mary from her grief, by one word, to show that he is alive, and he knows her by name.

Today, no matter what your past has been, Jesus can deliver you—from whatever is holding you in bondage, setting you free from guilt and shame.

Today, no matter what your grief, Jesus can turn it to joy, with one word—calling you by name, telling you everything will be all right.

All because of Easter morning. Jesus is not dead, he is alive. He is not far away, he is here. He has not forgotten you, he is calling you by name.

And that is the sweetest sound on Easter morning.

What is the message of Easter?

1. The reign of death is over. Death had always won. One out of one dies. No one escapes. But that Easter morning, death lost. Jesus died and came back to life.

2. The pain of sorrow is over. Grief breaks our hearts. There are those of us here who carry deep griefs in our hearts. We have lost a loved one. We have suffered a broken marriage. Someone has hurt us. A friend has betrayed us. "It's all right," our Lord is saying, "like Mary, you may weep now. But one day, your tears will be wiped away, and you will weep no more."

3. The fear of hell is over. You don't have to be afraid of hell, because you don't have to go there. God has opened a way for you to go to heaven.

But it is not because of anything you have done. We all deserve to go to hell. We are all sinners. We are not good enough for heaven.

But Jesus was good enough. He lived a sinless life. When he died, he died not for his sins, but for yours and mine.

Do you have the Easter hope? Have you heard the sweetest sound of Easter? If you have, say "Yes" to Jesus. Then you will know that "It's all over. It's all right now."