Sermon on Mark 16:1-8 for April 1, 2018, Easter B
When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.
My parents moved out of their home awhile back, into a retirement community. That meant downsizing, which included packing things in boxes to be dealt with later. So, it fell to my brother, the only sibling still living in the area, to take the boxes to his place. He has been going through them, as time allows, and figuring out what to do with everything.
This week I received, an envelope he sent with things from those boxes. They were pictures of me. There were baby pictures, pictures of me in high school, doing gymnastics, pictures of me with my son who is getting married this month, from when he was a toddler. Opening that envelope was like opening a door of memories. I was not expecting them. The emotions I felt surprised me.