Christ is risen! 

Christ is risen, indeed! Alleluia!

We have arrived at the celebration of Easter. All throughout Lent we have been preparing for this moment through the work of imagination. 

We have imagined in our own living as we have pondered and creatively carried with us themes of: wildness, movement, perspective, gathering, focus, and presence. 

We have put our imaginations to use as we have accompanied Jesus and his followers through imagination stretching encounters that began in the desert wilderness, preached words of blessing and warning to a large crowd, received the challenge of an outsider perspective who invited Jesus to consider expansive mercy, pondered the dangers of shepherding and the goodness of a shepherd who does their job well, knowing and calling their sheep by name, we considered where to place our loyalty and whose image we reflect and see reflected in others, and we celebrated with waving palms as community gathered together to enthusiastically welcome Jesus as he entered Jerusalem for the Passover celebration by riding a borrowed donkey and coming in peace.     

A peace that would quickly abandon the group and bring them to the moment we find them in at the start of today’s text. A moment of the unimaginable. Grief in the presence of the loss and death of Jesus. 

For as much as we may be out of practice, or even struggle to put our imaginations to use, we seem to have a deep seeded appreciation for the power of imagination within us because the unimaginable is a phrase we turn to when we attempt to put words to extreme experiences of trauma and grief.    

This is the unimaginable state of Mary of Magdala when we encounter her this morning as she comes alone to the tomb. In other tellings of this event, Mary comes with other women, bringing spices to anoint the body of Jesus. In John’s telling, she comes alone – bringing only grief.

Grief that quickly changes to confusion and worry when she sees that the stone that had sealed Jesus’ body into the tomb has been rolled away. The text doesn’t clearly say whether Mary enters the tomb at this point – instead, it says she runs off to find Simon Peter and another disciple, referred to in this text as: the one that Jesus loved, and tells them that Jesus had been taken from the tomb. 

Now this possibility had been a worry for many at the time of Jesus’ entombment. The religious leaders who had disagreed with Jesus were worried that his followers would come and steal Jesus’ body to create an illusion that Jesus had risen from the dead and was more powerful than he had even let on! Jesus’ disciples may have also been worried that those who had disagreements with Jesus would steal his body to defile it. And so, when Mary arrives, in her grief, to find the stone rolled away and the tomb empty, she turns to her community to help figure out what is going on. 

Simon Peter and the other disciple go running to the tomb – and the details of this run always amuse me: 

At that, Peter and the other disciple started out toward the tomb. They were running side by side, but then the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first.

It feels like a bit of a rub-it-in-Peter’s face kind of moment thrown into the scripture. Regardless of the motivation of these details, the experience of the two disciples at the tomb is similar; they both look into the tomb and confirm that it is only the wrappings that had been on Jesus’ body that remain in the tomb, not Jesus himself. They offer no further assistance or explanation to Mary, they simply assess the reality of the situation, Jesus is indeed missing, and they return home.

Mary is not willing to go home and let this mystery be. She sticks around and her grief pours forth in tears and through those tears she peers into the tomb once more and encounters two dazzling figures seated where the head and feet of Jesus had once lain. 

“Why are you weeping?” They ask. 

She replies, “They have taken away my Teacher and I don’t know where they have put him.”

She is lost and the helpers she had brought to the tomb were just as lost as she in their confusion and grief and were of little help. These dazzling figures seem to also leave as fast as Simon Peter and the other disciple for, as soon as she has told them her worries, they too seem to disappear and she turns to see another person there in the garden with her. 

This time it is Jesus, though she does not recognize him by appearance.

He asks the same question as the dazzling figures: “Why are you weeping?” 

And for the third time, Mary responds, “Jesus has been taken away.” Only this time she adds “If you are the one who took him, I want to know where he is! Tell me so I can take care of him.”

Jesus, the good shepherd, calls her by name: “Mary.”

In the speaking of her name, Mary recognizes Jesus, transformed into something new. 

I learned something new this week and it sparked my imagination! I also want to caveat that what I am about to explore with you is biology that I have only learned a little bit about scientifically and am playing with theologically. So if you have significant biology knowledge, I welcome your feedback and insights as a response…and bear with me for a few minutes!

In this season that celebrates transformation and new life, I learned that within insects that undergo metamorphosis – for example, a butterfly, the early life stage of that creature already contains cells that are called: imaginal discs. As someone who has been living with the work of imagination the last six weeks I was intrigued!! What on earth are imaginal discs?!  

It turns out that caterpillars contain imaginal discs that serve as a blueprint for the butterfly that is to be, yet these cells are dormant until the caterpillar turns to goo inside the chrysalis. Imaginal comes from the latin root: Imago, meaning image or likeness.  So these imaginal discs are cells that hold the image of the butterfly to come. Before it is even becoming! 

This is one of the things that has become apparent to me over the past six weeks being about the work of imagination: imagining now what we want to become in the world, imagining now the transformations we want to experience, or work to bring about, is an essential aspect of helping that manifestation occur. Imagination is an essential aspect of transformation. When we imagine what might be, and then lean towards that, it helps create the space for that transformation to occur. 

This was part of the ministry of Jesus in his lifetime. He was inviting people to imagine the manifestation of the kindom of God on earth as it is in heaven. Jesus invited people to new life. And he taught how to lean towards that possibility in and through our living. Even, and especially, when it is counter cultural and hard work.   

In the metamorphosis cycle of a caterpillar into a butterfly, when those imaginal discs first activate within the gooey remains of the caterpillar and begin to manifest the butterfly that they imagine, the first response of the old cells is to resist the change. The old cells experience the imaginal cells as a threat and they activate defenses against them.   

In the face of this resistance, the image of what could be persists. The imaginal cells come together combining and cooperating to create the new form. Imagination, connection, and cooperation breathe life into transformation.

We humans may not be biologically full of imaginal discs, however, we are theologically full of Imago Dei, we are created in and carry within us the image of God. And we might say that Jesus as a human bore the image of God in ultra high definition. Jesus was a crystal clear reflection of what embodied love looks like in action. And he was a transformational teacher who invited others to join him in reflecting and embodying God’s living love and justice in the world. 

Mary was onboard with Jesus’ invitation, so when she recognizes the living transformation of him as he calls her by name, she cries out: “Teacher!”

Here is the one Mary has been looking for. The one who taught her to imagine and seek ways to embody God’s justice and love. To persist in showing up with and for love even, perhaps especially, in the midst of the disruption and devastating impact of empire. The one who had been lost to her is now found. 

She seeks to draw near to Jesus and Jesus’ response to the moment is:

“Don’t hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to Abba God. Rather, go to the siblings and tell them, ‘I’m ascending to my Abba and to your Abba, my God and your God!’”

And in this statement we begin to experience the ripples of the transformation that occur in the resurrection of Jesus. Through this statement, Jesus, who has been understood to have a unique relationship with God, declares Mary and the disciples to be siblings who share the relationship with God that he himself has known. 

“I am ascending to my Abba and to your Abba, my God and your God!”

The transformation of the risen Christ, is a manifestation of new life for all of creation. Resurrection life reveals that the same image of God embedded in Jesus is the image of God embedded in each of us. The transformation of resurrection life ripples through all of creation. 

Jesus teaches us to keep imagining the kindom of God here and now among us and to practice manifesting it through the living out of God’s justice and love. This is the ongoing work of imagination, to make space for the transforming power of love and justice in the midst of situations, systems, and relationships that are not about the work of reflecting the image of God. 

There is still abundant work to be done. 

And when the work is painful, hard, and exhausting; when we find ourselves surrounded by grief and loss and are uncertain of where to turn, the risen Christ reminds us that the image of God is embedded within each of us; sparking our imaginations and sustaining us as we continue to embody God’s love and justice in the world. We do not work in vain or alone. Mary returns to her community to share the good news of resurrection life. We too, are in community to be about this work together, encouraging each other, struggling side by side when resistance arises, and remembering that imagination, connection, and love breathe life into transformation.  

Christ is risen! Christ is risen, indeed! Alleluia!