On the week before Easter, we emphasize the story of the cross. But Christians do not stop their storytelling there, because the story wasn’t over.
The story of the cross in Mark’s Gospel ended with a few women watching the rushed burial of Jesus late Friday afternoon. The same women who had seen Jesus buried planned to return to the tomb. “When the Sabbath was past, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him” (Mark 16:1). Why were these women here and why do we need to know about them? For these women, the story wasn’t over because Christ had not been honored. Jesus had been their teacher and I suspect their friend. He had suffered a criminal’s death on Friday, crucified and slain as between thieves. His body had been hurriedly placed in a tomb without any of the honors or rituals he deserved. These women could not reverse the verdict of Jesus’ death, but they at least could honor his body and consecrate his burial.
“And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. And they were saying to one another, ‘Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance of the tomb?’” (16:2-3) For these women, another practical obstacle barred their plans. Tombs were typically sealed, and this tomb was no exception. Their story had at least one more problem ahead because the stone that sealed the tomb would be too heavy for them to move. For us, we might find here a more metaphorical point. For us, the story wasn’t over because the tomb itself was still in the way. Jesus was supposed to be our savior, but death separated us from him and robbed us of his victory. Whatever hope we might have had in Jesus now lay cold on the other side of the grave.
Of course, the reason we love stories is because they don’t always end how we think they will. When these women arrived at the tomb, Mark tells us, “They saw that the stone had been rolled back—it was very large. And entering the tomb, they saw a young man sitting on the right side, dressed in a white robe, and they were alarmed” (Mark 16:4-5). Imagine the scenarios that must have run through their minds and the dread that ran through their hearts. Had his body been robbed? Why? He was not buried with any wealth that a graverobber might covet. Had his disciples taken him? Not likely. The disciples were the ones who buried him after all. Had his enemies taken him? Did they intend to desecrate his body? Why? Hadn’t a crucifixion been enough shame? The story it seemed was far from over. The story wasn’t over because Jesus wasn’t where they left him.
Inside the tomb is a man clothed in white, whom we assume to be an angel. We don’t know a lot about him except that he is definitely not the body anyone expected to find. The man in the white robes offers us the next page of the story to be read. “Do not be alarmed. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen; he is not here. See the place where they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you’” (16:6-7).
The women believed they had come to finish the story of Jesus. In the world of the ancient Greeks, there were only two kinds of stories: tragedy and comedy. Tragedy was a serious story that ended poorly for the main characters. Comedy was a light-hearted story that ended well for everyone. The crucifixion of Jesus had made it clear to everyone exactly what kind of story this one was going to be. The women arrived at the tomb on the final page of a great tragedy. Jesus’ burial rites would conclude the story, and no one would live happily ever after.
But the story wasn’t over because Jesus is risen! The angel announces to us a new kind of story. It was a true story, a real story, with all the marks of a tragedy. But it was a good story, a joyful story, with all the fanciful notes of a comedy. It was something new. It was good news. It was gospel!
“And they went out and fled from the tomb, for trembling and astonishment had seized them, and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid” (Mark 16:8).
Now if I am right and this is all good news, why are the women running away afraid?
What causes surprise? What causes fear and shock? Those are responses to an unexpected twist in a story. We are startled when a person says he will turn right but instead turns left. We are deflated when a person says they will show up for us at a certain time but are nowhere to be found. We are afraid when someone tells us that we are safe but instead, we find ourselves to be in danger.
In the Jesus story, the shock and the fear and the surprise come from the opposite cause. Jesus told us he would live again, but no one believed that. Jesus did exactly what he said he would do, and it was the voice of experience that became a liar. Experience told us that there would be a body in that tomb, like every other body in every other tomb. Experience lied, but Jesus did exactly what he said. The fear and shock they experienced were not because something believably bad happened, but rather that something unbelievably good happened.
Now I need to pause here a moment, because I have chosen Mark’s Gospel for today’s sermon, and Mark’s Gospel throws us a curve here at the end. At the conclusion of verse eight, your English Bible likely has a footnote that says, “Some of the Earliest Manuscripts do not include 16:9-20.” I’d like to tell you more about this footnote, but I can’t. You see it’s Easter Sunday, and no one wants to hear a lecture about ancient manuscripts on Easter Sunday. It isn’t why you are here.
So no matter how much you want me to, I will not be telling you that while this footnote is entirely true it is also a little misleading. I will not be telling you that there are in fact only three very old manuscripts that stop at the end of verse eight. I will not be further sharing with you the fact that three manuscripts missing these verses is not as big a deal as you might think. I won’t bother to explain that there are also eight manuscripts that stop at verse nine. More importantly, I definitely will not take the time to explain that there are 1,653 Greek manuscripts that include all of verses 9-20. As do over 1000 ancient lectionary texts and a variety of early Christian authors from the second and third centuries onward.
It’s Easter Sunday, so you don’t want me to tell you that you can go online and look at digital scans of these early manuscripts. I don’t want to bore you with the detail that while Codex Vaticanus for example is missing verses 9-20, the manuscript has a large empty column where that paragraph should be, indicating perhaps that the scribe new it existed but didn’t have access to it at the time of transcription. No, we will not be talking about all that on Easter Sunday.
Instead, I will just give you my theory and get back to the text. I think Mark was facing severe persecution when he wrote his Gospel. I think his work was interrupted, and for a short time, perhaps the Gospel really did end at verse eight. But I think either Mark or perhaps his fellow disciples realized immediately that everyone running away in fear was a terrible way to end the very true story of Jesus. So – much like a scribe added the last few verses of Deuteronomy or the final chapter of Jeremiah – some faithful Christian witness penned a fitting conclusion to Mark’s Gospel that we now share today. The church accepted the long ending of Mark because it has one very important quality that every good story should have.
It’s true.
The text continues, “Now when he rose early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, from whom he had cast out seven demons. She went and told those who had been with him, as they mourned and wept. But when they heard that he was alive and had been seen by her, they would not believe it” (16:12-13). The tomb was empty in the prior verses, but until you get to verse 9, no one had seen a risen Jesus. Mary Magdalene in particular has an important role still to play. You see, the story wasn’t over because Mary Magdalene’s faith deserved confirmation. She had been there at the cross. She had been there at the tomb. Her faith had taken her to the twist of the story, and now she saw Jesus alive and well. She had been chosen by God to be the first to take the gospel to the apostles themselves. Her story cannot be omitted.
Mark continues, “After these things he appeared in another form to two of them, as they were walking into the country. And they went back and told the rest, but they did not believe them” (16:12-13). And then after that, “Afterward he appeared to the eleven themselves as they were reclining at table, and he rebuked them for their unbelief and hardness of heart, because they had not believed those who saw him after he had risen” (16:14). I believe Mark’s story had to continue because we needed to know that the Apostles had needed to see and believe. Their story was a comfort to every Christian who ever doubted their faith. The apostles had too. And their story was a reassurance to every Christian still doubting their faith because the faith of the apostles was replaced by sight. This is no fable. It is neither comedy nor tragedy. It is gospel, and it is true.
Furthermore, the story wasn’t over because we haven’t heard from Jesus himself yet. “And he said to them, ‘Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation. Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned’” (16:15-16). The story wasn’t over because the world needed to know the good news. This story, the truest of all stories, could not be contained to a hill outside of Jerusalem or a house in Galilee. This story changed everything for everyone. No one’s story could be the same if this story was true. It had to go out from Judea. It had to go out from Samaria. It had to go to every creature under heaven. Every creature – down to this very moment – that lives their life in the fear of death needs to know that death is not how the story of Jesus ends.
And so the apostles went out. “And these signs will accompany those who believe: in my name they will cast out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will pick up serpents with their hands; and if they drink any deadly poison, it will not hurt them; they will lay their hands on the sick, and they will recover” (16:17-18). Some of that is a little odd, I’ll admit, but shows us things to come. The story wasn’t over because the work of the Apostles had just begun. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John are possibly the last four books written in your New Testament, but in your Bible, we put them at the beginning rather than the end. Why? Because the Jesus story is not an end. It is a beginning. It is the beginning of the Apostles telling the world that Jesus is risen and everything has changed. It was the beginning of miracles and wonders in the far reaches of the earth. It is the beginning of the preaching of Peter. It is the beginning of the missionary journies of Paul. It is the beginning of the martyrdom of Thomas in India. It is the beginning of great stories of faith we will never even know. It was not an end; it was the beginning.
“So then the Lord Jesus, after he had spoken to them, was taken up into heaven and sat down at the right hand of God” (16:19). Most biographies end with someone dying, but we’ve already learned that this one is different. The story wasn’t over because Christ belonged on a throne not in a tomb. Jesus is not merely a moralizing teacher or mystery of history. He is Lord. He is King in his Kingdom. He lives and he reigns, and no story is finished until his kingdom’s rule is as real on Earth as it is already in Heaven. He is received up into Heaven because that is where he belongs until every knee bows and every tongue confesses that Christ is Lord to the glory of the Father.
“And they went out and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them and confirmed the message by accompanying signs” (16:20). That’s the final sentence for Mark, but it isn’t the end, is it? The story wasn’t over because Jesus was still alive and working in his church. “The Lord worked with them,” it says. The Resurrection was not a temporary victory over the grave. It was a permanent conquest. It was an emptying of death’s power. Jesus did not live to die again. He lives forever more. He lives today in his people, working wonders and transforming lives. Because He lives your story is not finished. You do not have to choose between grim tragedy and naive comedy. Your story can be something new because of his story. It can be a gospel story. Your grave can be empty, your addiction defeated, your sin vanquished, and your life unending.
The story isn’t over because it was never meant to end.