Sermon Tone Analysis

Shattered Expectations

Everybody loves a good romance, right?

There was a great story out of Tijuana this week.

Two refugees from Ukraine tied the knot at the border in Tijuana.

Semen Bobrovski and Dasha Sakhniuk traveled a few thousand miles over 6 days to get to the refugee camp in San Ysidro.

Bobrovski is a Russian.

Sakhniuk is Ukranian.

The two met 3 years ago when Bobrovski went to live in Ukraine.

They were supposed to get married in Kyiv, but the invasion turned their plans upside down.

Neither bride nor groom dreamed that their wedding would include a mariachi band and a taquiza meal.

The bride told one reporter that she was happy, though none of this was what was expected.

It wasn’t what we expected.

Expectations.

Our story today is one of expectations.

We read the story moments ago.

The story of Mary Magdalene.

She shows up at the tomb of Jesus early Sunday morning at o’dark thirty.

It’s not so dark that she can’t see that that really heavy stone has been moved.

She also sees that there’s no Jesus there.

She goes running to Peter and John who themselves see the same thing.

Mary is shaken.

This is one of Jesus’ best friends.

Mary had met Jesus during Jesus’ ministry and Jesus turns her world upside down.

She had been known as one possessed by demons.

Through the healing touch of Jesus, she is freed from the control of the oppressor.

She goes to the tomb before the sun is up and finds the tomb empty.

Seeing the empty tomb is not what she expected.

She expected to be alone with the body to grieve.

Now her grief is compounded.

In her mind she crafts the only possible narrative she can think of, based on her expectations.

Someone must have taken the body.

Somebody moved the body.

I don’t know why?

What else would someone want?

Maybe he was in the wrong tomb?

Are there questions that still need answered?

Is not dead enough for some people?

It’s dark.

It’s empty.

And I don’t know why.

Well stories

Throughout the Bible, there are numerous stories about women at wells.

If you were going to write a play for the Jewish village schoolchildren around romance, you’d probably dress the kids up in shepherds gear and find some stones and tell a good man meets woman at the well story.

Isaac’s wife Rebekah was found at a well.

Isaac’s son Jacob met his wife Rachel at a well.

Moses found his wife Zipporah at a well.

You want to get married?

Go find yourself a well and just wait for the girls to show up with their sheep, and you move the stone away from the entrance of the well so that brides have water for their flocks.

What’s great about John, Jesus’ best friend who is telling this resurrection story, is that he also has a woman at the well story.

Jesus meets a woman at a well… and they talk about marriage.

Not their marriage.

But her five marriages.

Wells, weddings, and marriages.

A running theme in the Bible.

Wells are where brides are found, and even though the Samaritan woman is not Jesus’ earthly bride, the subject matter points to the fact that Jesus is very interested in her becoming part of the bride of Christ, his community, the church.

A woman in distress

There is no well in our story.

But there is stone that has been moved.

And there is a woman in distress.

Alone.

In grief.

With shattered expectations.

And now there is this stranger asking her “why are you crying?”

In her grief, she cannot see who it is, but she runs to her narrative.

She runs to her shattered expectations.

She runs to what she thinks is true about the world she lives in:

John 20:15 Supposing he was the gardener, she replied, “Sir, if you’ve carried him away, tell me where you’ve put him, and I will take him away.”

She’s already mentioned this twice.

Someone has taken him away and I don’t know where they have put him.

“I don’t know”.

That’s the fuel underneath Mary’s expectations.

I expect to know.

I expect to be on top of all of this.

I wasn’t on top of the crucifixion.

I couldn’t control that.

I need to know.

Knowing will help me feel like I’m back in control.

Knowing will give me comfort.

She is so bent on “knowing” what she doesn’t know that she challenges this stranger.

It’s almost personal.

What was “they” is now “you”.

She has twice already said “they’ve taken him away”.

Now… to this one she supposes is the cemetery attendant she says “you.”

You must be the one.

Wow.

Almost accusatory here.

And then she adds a new wrinkle to what she has been saying, which gives away her true intentions.

What we suspected.

“I will take him away.”

This is what happens in grief.

We have our expectations.

We know the way the world is supposed to work.

I didn’t expect Jesus to be crucified.

In my world, that isn’t supposed to happen.

And this morning, I expect Jesus to be in that tomb.

Things are out of control.

I need information.

And I need to act.

Where have you put him?

I want to take him.