A short homily preached at the 8 o'clock BCP Communion at Guildford Cathedral. There's something apt about brevity in the face of Mark's short ending to his Gospel.
The ending of Mark’s Gospel is abrupt. It is a brief and sparse account of the resurrection. On one level what we are told very little - the woman go to the tomb; they see a young man who instructs them to go and tell the disciples that Jesus has risen.
But what we think of as sparse in terms of ‘content’ and frustrating in its brevity, is also rich in meaning and profoundly moving. It tells us everything!
It’s rich in its humanity: the confusion, grief, terror and even skepticism. The woman are overwhelmed by what they hear - by what they see and don’t see.
They are overwhelmed by the fulfilment of what Jesus had promised but which stretches their hearts and minds beyond all that they have experienced and known.
The woman are fearful and the run away.
Yet having fled in their fear and confusion, those woman must have made a declaration.
They could not remain silent. Their proclamation rippled out. Their words provoked amazement, faith, misunderstanding and rejection; they provoked further witnesses.Mark was one of them.
Mark writes with pace and immediacy; he devotes half of his gospel to Christ’s passion. And then he brings us abruptly to an empty tomb - and leaves us in silence.
Empty Tomb by George Richardson
This is a place beyond words - a place where the risen Christ meets us and transforms us.
For resurrection brings joy out of vulnerability; it recreates relationship of love and trust. It moves us beyond failure, fear, suffering and limitations .
This brief and bewildering account of resurrection is rich in mystery and power; it’s rich in possibility. It’s rich in love.
Love which triumphs over death.
Love that leaves space and silence.
Love that creates space for us.
Love that meets us here in bread and wine; healing, feeding, forgiving and restoring.
The love of God which wins.
Go and tell!
© Julie Gittoes 2018
