"Out Of The Grave "
By Michael Browder Ph.D.
April 4, 2010

Mark 16:1-6

Can you imagine what it’s like to be inside a grave. Total darkness. No way out. That’s where Jesus is when our story begins. He has died a terrible death on the cross. He has been sealed on a stone-cold tomb. Not only lost in darkness, but lost in death. Jesus’ darkest hour. You cannot appreciate the resurrection unless you experience the tomb. Or, as the old hymn says, “If you don’t bear the cross, then you can’t wear the crown!”

There is some symbolism to the fact that the scripture of the Easter story begins at dawn. The same God, who sends the sun every morning, sent his power to drive the darkness of death away from Jesus. And He is the same God who drives takes away the darkness from our lives.

In our scripture, the women came early on the morning after the Sabbath to anoint the body of Jesus with spices. Jesus appeared to the women first. Did you ever think about that? It was because of their faith. While the men disciples were busy denying Jesus, while they were running away and hiding, the women stuck by his side. It is no wonder that Christ appeared to them first. And this event, occurring almost 2,000 years ago, says something important about God’s recognition of the leadership of women.

So the two Mary’s and Salome were walking along, and they were asking, “Who will roll away the stone?” “We would like to see Jesus. We would like to anoint him, but who will roll away the stone?” I think we still ask that question. We want to be near to Christ. We want to worship him. But sometimes we come up against what seem like insurmountable barriers. Who will take away these barriers? God does! Just as he did on that Easter morning. It is God who rolls away the stone!

And notice the reply which the angel gave to the women: “He risen. He is not here.” This has to do with where we look for God. We look for God in all the wrong places. We would like to have a God that we can control, a God that we could put in a box, or a tomb, and just bring him out when we need him. We could really worship a God like that. And we would really revere the place where we kept him. We would anoint that place with every possible spice.

But God, who is God, is beyond our control. He refuses to be limited to the places where we try to confine him. He can break out of the limitations of something as strong as death itself. “He is not here. He is risen!”

To really appreciate the Resurrection you have to put yourself inside the grave and look out. Have you ever experienced anything that made you understand what it is like to look at the world from that point of view - inside the grave? I have.

When my Aunt Ronnie, my father’s sister, died in 2001, I was called on to preach her funeral, at Arlington National Cemetery. Her husband was a retired Col. in the Army, and her son, my first cousin, is a Col. in the Reserves. So the funeral service had all the military pomp and circumstance that Arlington can offer.

Without my knowing it, they had dug the grave too long. Not wanting their mistake to be visible, they had taken a piece of Astro Turf, like they place around the dirt over the grave, and they had simply stretched it across the gaping hole at the end of the trench to make everything look normal.

So, when I stepped up to the foot of my aunt’s casket, I fell smack dab down into the grave! My fall was broken a few feet down when I was caught on the metal poles, that were holding up the vault. I heard my uncle yell, “Holy smoke!” It had rained the night before, and I could hear the red clay dirt, and mud, sliding over me, and splashing into a deep pool of water down below my feet.

The young girl from the funeral home, who weighed less than a hundred pounds, came over, and looked in and said, “Can I pull you out?” I said, “No thanks, honey. That would just pull you down in here with me.” Finally, I managed to swing my legs over the rails and climb out. I went on to continue the service, covered in mud. Of course, Susan had been laughing the whole time. But let me declare this to you, on Easter Sunday morning:... I know what it’s like to come up out of the grave!

Not everyone’s story is so humorous as mine. I thought about Easter and the tomb a few years ago, when I heard the story of the 12 coal miners who were trapped in the mine in Sago, West Virginia. Despite a false report of hope, only one man survived: Randal McCloy. The men were trapped

in darkness when the mine collapsed. Randy described his experience:

“The main thing is being in the dark like that, where you’re honestly looking for a way out, [a way] that isn’t filled with [poisonous] gases and things. So it’s a real confusing time. I remember sometimes I would try to go through walls and stuff, try to walk through them or something to get to the other side, but really just confusing. You don’t really know where you’re going.”

As the carbon monoxide weakened them, every man began to worry that he might die in the mine. With the dying beams of their battery-powered lanterns, they scribbled farewell notes to their loved ones.

Randy wrote to his wife: “Anna, I love you so much.” And he expressed affection to his little daughter. To his son, Randy Jr., he wrote: “Trust in the Lord.” Can you imagine that?! Dying, deep in the dark bowels of a collapsed mine, and his last words were, “Trust in the Lord.” Here is a man who was able to face death. He knew that Christ, who was raised from the dead, was waiting for him in eternity.

Randy passed out in that dark hell, that tomb. And he should have died like everyone else. But a miracle happened. When they broke through to him, he was still alive!

Alive, but just barely. The neurosurgeon said, “He was in terrible shape when he got here: in shock, collapsed left lung, in kidney failure, heart failure, liver failure. Really nothing working right, and in a deep coma.” Randy should have died there. He had severe brain damage. Was he alive at all?

But, miracle upon miracle, he lived. His wife says that it was faith that got him through. Even while he was in a coma, she kept talking to him. One day, she said, “Randy, I know that you can’t talk right now. But if you know who I am, just give me one kiss.” And he leaned his head, ever so slightly, and he puckered his lips to kiss her.

Slowly, he has been getting his life back. He had to learn to talk again. And to feed himself. He has learned to walk again. But he is feeble, and he needs help. And yet, he knows that his life is a miracle. The governor of West Virginia has renamed the street where he lives “Miracle Road”.

Matt Lauer, from NBC television, said that Randy McCloy’s story is a story of “[hope,] faith, and, most of all, love.” Where have I heard these three things before?: Faith, Hope and Love. The Bible says these are the three things that last forever. Faith, Hope and Love. And the greatest of these is love.

This is an Easter story. Easter is about Faith, and Hope, and especially, Love. Easter is about God’s power to bring that which is dead back to life again.

My friend, have you ever looked out from the tomb? Are you there now? Is there something in you that has died? Have you lost someone you love? Has your heart been broken? Are you lost? Have you given up hope? Have you lost your dream? Has the light of faith within you flickered out? Do you wonder if you will ever love again?

Jesus rose from the dead, to show the power of God. And God’s power is such, that even that which is dead, can be made to live again. Jesus Christ, who rose from the dead, can bring the power of his resurrection into your darkness: Power to live again. Power to live with him forever in eternity. Let this be the day, when you turn your heart to him, and find his life-giving power, which drives away the darkness.

Let us pray: Lord Jesus, we give you our hearts. We trust our lives to you. Let the light of your resurrection shine on us. Give us new life. And take away our darkness. Amen.