The sermon on Easter morning at the Falls Church Anglican began with a question which pondered why it was that Mary went to the tomb of Jesus that Easter morning. The answer centered on the love Mary had for Jesus, perhaps in response to all Jesus had done for her. I have been pondering the same question.

It has been some 10 years since I buried my parents. In both cases I wanted to return to their graves the next day. I did not want to accept the finality of their deaths. I had lost my parents, the real frame of reference for my life. I still don’t want to accept their deaths in some ways. I still have some feelings of abandonment, loss, sadness and a special kind of loneliness. But now I also have many sweet memories and I often hear their voices as I go about my daily activities. I am doing what Dad told me to do after Mom died: “Remember the good times.”

So I can imagine Mary’s frame of mind that morning. The events had happened so fast and seemed so unexpected. Her emotional knowing is far ahead of her intellectual understanding. Stir in the bewilderment of the empty tomb. And then Mary hears her name, spoken by that voice she knew so well. There can be no mistake. “My sheep know my voice.” I imagine that Jesus spoke in that tender, loving way that only he can. Nothing else matters right now. There will be time later to figure out what’s going on.

For now, all that matters is that Jesus lives.

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