Mark 16: 1-8

Easter Sunday

May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all. Amen.

Mark 16: 1-8 (On the significance of ‘nothingness’ and emptiness for our faith)

6 “Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him.

The sight of the empty tomb fills them with great fear. What now? If there is now ‘nothing’ left of him, of their Jesus, then ‘everything’ is over. The sight of the empty tomb confronts the women with desolation, a painful void they have felt ever since the death of their companion, their teacher Jesus.
Feeling so empty and realising that ‘nothing’ remains of the person who has gone is one of the many ways we experience death. Several of us are familiar with these mixed feelings when standing at graves. The void is overwhelming. We may then be confronted by a vast, yawning and frightening emptiness. I would like to linger for a moment on this experience, because I suspect that this scene reminds us of something personal.

Have you ever felt that: “there is nothing left but emptiness”?
“There’s nothing left for me to do,” some older people lament.
Or, to put it another way, someone might say: “There’s nothing left for me to offer.”
These are expressions of a life in which one feels superfluous. One has nothing left to do. One has nothing left to give – or so it feels, at any rate.
Such sad experiences are not limited to the late stages of life; they often accompany us right from the start. A lack of self-esteem, or far too little of it.
“I am nothing”.
“I can’t do anything.”
“I have nothing.” I hear similar things not only from older and elderly people, but also from young people at school. It is a bitter reality, and no wonder that in our Western society, achievement and self-improvement are at the top of the agenda: “Make something of yourself!” youngsters are told. “It’s all in your own hands!”

Low self-esteem, the fear of ‘nothingness’, the dread of the great void – all this means that, viewed from the outside, some lives appear incredibly full. Everything is supposed to fit in, and all at the same time. We then complain about a schedule that is far too full, about too much work and too many commitments.
Having ‘nothing’ to do – unimaginable. Planning ‘nothing’ – almost unbearable. The secret interplay between ‘everything’ and ‘nothing’.

The tomb is empty. The last thing the mourners had left is no longer there. What will become of the disciples now? What will become of us, when death has left our lives so empty?
What is left, now that my child has died?
How am I to cope without my wife?
What am I without my job?
How can my life still have meaning when I no longer even have a house or a flat of my own?

However, today we celebrate Easter, not Good Friday. Easter: it brings a new liveliness, despite and even following encounters with death. The women hear something new at this empty tomb – they encounter Jesus in a new way, so that in the midst of the experience of ‘nothing’ – ‘everything’ changes.

I’ll try to make this idea clearer, so that we don’t just hear it, but new images come to mind… Listen to what an old, wise person realised one day:
The man’s name is Lao-tzu. He describes the significance of ‘nothingness’. He even says that the experience of ‘nothingness’ is necessary for many things. ‘Nothingness’ has a purpose:
Thirty spokes converge on the hub – where there is nothing, there lies the purpose of the wheel.
The potter shapes the pot from clay; where it is hollow, there lies the pot’s usefulness.
Doors and windows hollow out the walls; where it remains empty, there lies the house’s usefulness.
Thus, what is brings profit, but what is not brings usefulness.

Wonderful and vivid examples that draw our attention to the fact that ‘nothingness’ has a defining and shaping form. We need the experience of ‘nothingness’!
For me, these are beautiful images and metaphors for our faith: we believe in a God who brings something into being out of ‘nothing’. God breathed life into ‘nothing’. That is how the story of creation is told in the Book of Genesis.

Easter is a story of the world’s renewal. God breathes new life into Jesus. And then, as a natural consequence, he bestows Jesus’ Spirit upon us. The Holy Spirit allows us to share in the resurrection.
Jesus has not simply gone away. The empty tomb has a meaning: it is the window through which we see Jesus anew. It is our life in an earthly vessel. Jesus is not gone; he has risen. The empty tomb remains not a symbol of death, but of new life. New life is breathed into us all; open space for life is unlocked. Free space.

This is the architecture of our faith. The empty space is filled with God’s Spirit. Where we feel we are worth ‘nothing’, or of ‘no use’, or ‘good for nothing’, there God meets us and helps us realise we are wonderfully made, by God and his Spirit, who lives within us.
Anyone who wishes to experience Easter in all its depth – anyone who wants to be drawn into the experience of the Resurrection – needs the courage to embrace the void.

Let me tell you a little Zen story:
‘Once, a master was asked about the path to wisdom. But instead of listening to the master’s advice, the visitor spent the whole time talking about his life, his worries and his difficulties. Finally, it was time for tea, and the master began to pour. He filled the visitor’s bowl to the brim and would not have stopped pouring had the visitor not grabbed his arm.
‘What are you doing, Master?’ he cried, ‘can’t you see that the cup is full?’
‘Yes, it is full,’ said the Master, ‘and you too are filled to the brim with worries and difficulties. How can I pour wisdom into you if you do not hand me an empty cup?’

If you sometimes feel fear of death, of emptiness, and of ‘nothingness’, then you are in need of an experience of resurrection. Some people, the greater their fear of ‘nothingness’ becomes, try to squeeze ‘everything’ out of life and cram ‘everything’ into it.
But unfortunately, they will find that in doing so, vitality may fall by the wayside: burnout, being overwhelmed, illness, death – arriving sooner than expected, because there is no breathing space – no ‘nothing’ in which God can work.

I encourage you to ‘do nothing’ this Easter – and hope that you will then have an experience of God, an Easter experience. When you ‘do nothing’, you will suddenly realise once again who is at work.
That is the idea behind the Sabbath commandment: to rest and do nothing, and to experience God filling the void. Our Creator then works with all his love and power, inspired by the Spirit who creates life. In ‘doing nothing’, new life emerges.

The mystery of faith – confidence in death – fulfilment in emptiness.

May the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen