Jesus sees your pain and knows your name.

Introduction

The former Arsenal manager Arsene Venga once said that Christmas is important, but Easter is decisive. Now, of course, he wasn't talking about faith, he was talking about football and the transfer window.

He could easily have been talking about faith though - Christmas, when God became human and born in a stable is important - but today we celebrate that Jesus died for us - and three days later came alive again - that is decisive. Decisively the single most important event in human history.

Chaos

While we celebrate the revelation that Jesus rose from the dead, we also need to look at the chaos that precedes it.

We know that God conquers over chaos. We see this time and time again, weaved throughout the bible - first of all in the opening verses of Genesis. The theologian Tom Wright captures this sweeping narrative beautifully:

John for Everyone, Part 2: Chapters 11–21 The Empty Tomb (John 20:1–10)

Darkness on the face of the deep. The formless beginning, the chaos. The void. The beginning.

The wind and the word. God’s breath, God’s speech, summoning things never known before. Life and light. The first day. Creation.

In the beginning was the Word … and the Word became flesh. The flesh has spoken, breathed, brought life and light. New creation has spilled out around him wherever he has gone. ‘Here’s the man!’ The sixth day. Creation is complete. God saw all he had made, and it was very good.

Flesh dies. Chaos comes again. Darkness descends on the little weeping group at the cross. Two men in the fading light do what has to be done. Then the long sabbath, the rest in the cold tomb.

And now, still in the darkness, the first day of the week. The new week. The new creation. The eighth day

Isn’t that phenomenally powerful? Here we are on the eighth day - the beginning of the new creation.

The gardener in the new creation

There is so much in this Gospel passage to unpack - so I’m grateful that it is listed in the lectionary as an option for Easter every year! As I reflect on the chaos and the new creation, I am drawn particularly to Mary in the story, so this is where I will focus.

As our Gospel passage starts this morning, Mary heads to the tomb to grieve her Lord - though when she arrives she finds the body is not there. In a panic she runs back to the other disciples, believing that the body has been stolen. Not only is she grieving that her Lord is dead - she’s also grieving that she now cannot say goodbye.

After Peter and the other disciple have run to the tomb, and left again, our attention is drawn back to Mary. There she is, still weeping at the tomb. When she looks inside again she sees two angels, and has a brief conversation with them. If it were me I would have found this startling - but she appears to be unfazed - this is one of those rare times when angels appear and they don’t say “be not afraid!”.

When she turns around she sees Jesus - but doesn’t recognise him - she thinks he is the gardener.

The gardener. Isn’t that beautiful? Here we are on the eight day - the first day of the new creation - and Jesus appears in this new creation as a gardener.

Questions

Scholars have debated seemingly endlessly about why it is that Mary (and the other disciples in other passages) didn’t recognise Jesus. The thing that interests me more though are the questions that Jesus asks people when he appears to them after his resurrection.

In his book “God on Mute”, Pete Greig writes:

Good Friday had left a mess, and Jesus was systematically dealing with the consequences of chaos in the lives of His friends by provoking them to respond to His presence.

When Jesus asks Mary why she is weeping, he sees her grief.

When he appears to the men on the road to Emmaus he asks “what are you discussing? … don’t you understand?” - he sees their confusion.

When he asks the disciples “why are you troubled, and why do doubts rise in your mind” he sees their crisis of faith.

And when he asks Peter “do you really love me?” he sees his guilt.

Jesus sees our pain, our confusion, our faith crises, our guilt, and longs to open our eyes to see him for who he really is.

“Mary”

Jesus sees Mary’s pain, and longs to open her eyes to see him. How does he do this? Simply by saying her name.

New Living Translation Chapter 20

16 “Mary!” Jesus said.

She turned to him and cried out, “Rabboni!” (which is Hebrew for “Teacher”).

Jesus, the gardener, the good shepherd. I can’t help but be drawn back earlier in John’s gospel:

New Living Translation (Chapter 10)

3 He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.

New Living Translation Chapter 10

27 My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.

Pete Greig has a line - “God sees your pain, and knows your name”. Here Jesus sees Mary’s pain, and knows her name.

Decisive

Now you may be thinking this is all well and good, but how is Easter decisive?

Instead of tackling this from a theological perspective, I’m going to share some personal stories about what Easter hope and the good news of Jesus’ resurrection means to me.

So far in life I’ve not experienced any significant hardship. I had a mostly idyllic childhood, with wonderful loving parents. I didn’t know God though, I just knew about him. Childhood wasn’t all plain sailing though - I grew up on an orchard, and one day I was home alone with my mum, who called out to me saying she thought she was having a heart attack. She was. Then in the years that followed the orchard was struck by draughts and hailstorms until it was no longer financially viable for my parents to continue owning it - so the orchard was sold, and we moved in to a rental property. That was enough to crush my small faith.

When I came to know Jesus, life didn’t magically become easier. The peaks of joy and valleys of despair continue. So what difference does it make for me knowing that Jesus died for me, and rose again to new life? Simply put, Jesus is my brother, my companion, my rock, my good shepherd. When times are hard I have the King of Kings caring for me, loving me, supporting me, and calling me on - seeing my pain and calling my name.

Every Holy Week I remember and give thanks for my dear friend Lisette Wesseling. On Good Friday I was conducting an orchestra and choir for a service at St Paul’s Lutheran Church in Newtown, performing one of my favourite works, Buxtehude’s “Membra Jesu Nostri”. On the Monday of Holy Week she phoned me and told me she wouldn’t be able to sing as she had just been diagnosed with cancer.

Lisette was an extraordinary person. She had the most phenomenal voice, was blind since childhood, and had a stutter. I remember a conversation with her a year or so after her diagnosis, and she said to me “Richard, you know what? This cancer really sucks. But I’ve been thinking, I can cope with the cancer. I don’t mind being blind - I just hate how I stutter. I can’t communicate the way I want to. I’m not afraid of dying - my God is so so good.” Her faith in Jesus was her anchor - it was her hope - it was her desire. And her faith shone through her in the most powerful way. She knew Jesus.

Altar call

We can know Jesus, we can have a relationship with Jesus because he's alive and he sees our pain and he knows our name.

You might be here today because you already know and love Jesus . You might be here because that’s what you’ve always done. You might be here looking for answers, seeking a fresh start. You might be here with a faith that has grown dim.

Today of all days I encourage you to surrender your life to Jesus. Come to him in the chaos of your life - your grief, your doubts, your confusion, and let him reveal himself to you. Let him call you by name. It’s time to come home.

As you come forward to communion offer yourself afresh to God. Lay yourself before Him. We know our world is broken - we know that we are broken. Let’s offer that to God and ask for forgiveness.

Then after you have received communion we will be offering anointing with holy oil, and we will pray for the Holy Spirit to anoint you afresh today. As we do this, let us know if you would like us to pray for your commitment, or recommitment to Jesus - or if there is any other need you have.

Jesus sees your pain - and he knows your name.

Amen.