"Go! Tell!" An Easter Reflection

This morning I offer a reflection I wrote back in 2015 on the Resurrection account in St. Mark's gospel.  May you know the love and life of the Risen Christ this Eastertide and always.
-Fr. Dan

Read: Mark 16:1-8

"But go and tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you." - Mark 16:7

The first witnesses to the Resurrection of Jesus had a problem: they were afraid.  Although the great stone from the tomb had been removed, although a mysterious youth (perhaps an angel?) had proclaimed that Jesus was risen, although they had been commanded to go and tell the disciples that Jesus was risen, although they had witnessed all these things, they were still afraid. 
 
It might well be argued that they were in a state of shock, that they were overwhelmed with amazement at all that had taken place, that in their confusion the were immobilized and unable to tell the story.  Perhaps this was true, but St. Mark tells us in no uncertain terms that they were afraid.  They were so afraid that they ran away and said nothing to anyone, for terror and amazement had seized them.

It is an odd way for St. Mark to conclude his gospel, without an appearance of the risen Lord, and with the first witnesses running away afraid to tell the story.  What are we to make of this? This mysterious ending must have proved so troubling to the early Christians that at least two alternate endings were written and added at some point, a shorter ending and a longer ending, which tell of appearances of the Risen Christ.  It was as though the end of the scroll of the gospel had been torn off. Consider having read your way through an exciting mystery novel only to find the last page, with the solution of the mystery, missing.  Would you not be tempted to write you own ending, based on what you knew and the evidence that had been supplied?  The early Christians knew of appearances of the risen Jesus. Matthew, Luke, and John (and Paul) all added stories where Mark had not. The first Christians had in fact experienced his power in their lives, they had perhaps read some of the other gospels, and perhaps knew of other oral traditions, and surely when they read the words that the women “fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid,” surely, when they read these words they would have exclaimed, “Ah, but I know how the story ends!” and gone about the task of sharing what they knew, and perhaps even writing it down.  Perhaps another member of the community then added a few more stories that they knew.   Take out your Bible and go to the end of St. Mark’s Gospel and read these alternate endings to see how others thought the story should end.

But what if this IS how Mark intended to end his gospel? What if the women fleeing in terror and telling no one (at least in the first instance) is what the author intended? What purpose could such an ending serve in a story that purports to proclaim the Good News of Christ?

I want to suggest to you today that St. Mark did intend to end his gospel this way, and he had a very specific goal in mind in doing so. The hint is found in two imperative verbs found in verse 7 of Chapter 16.  These verbs are “Go” and “Tell”.  The young man who is at the tomb gives the women a command, not simply a suggestion, but a command. If all we had was St. Mark’s gospel, we might assume they failed. However, we know from St. John and from other early Christian traditions that the women, and in particular, Mary Magdalene did become the first apostles of the Resurrection. They did share the story. They did as they commanded. They were the first witnesses and the first proclaimers. Yet, Mark wants to underscore the fact that it did not come easy to them. When commanded to “Go” and “Tell”, their immediate response was to run away mute and frightened. 

We, who read of their response, throw our arms in the air and exclaim “how can it be so?”  We, who read of their response, want to shout at them with the same words of the young man at the tomb, “Go! Tell!” We, who have met the risen Jesus in our lives, long to call out to them but they cannot hear us.  We call to them, “Do you not understand? Christ is Risen!  Don’t run and hide! Don’t be afraid! Go, and tell the disciples, tell the world, Christ is Risen!”  But they cannot hear us.

In the moment, the women were confused. They were startled.  They were in a state of shock, and probably even in a state of denial.  If they told anyone that the tomb was empty, would they be accused of stealing the body? Would they be accused of telling “old wives tales?” Would they be accused of mocking his memory?  Would people think them mad?  Perhaps we can understand their fear, and their reluctance.  Yet, we still call to them across the page, frustrated at the abrupt and unsatisfactory ending of Mark’s Gospel, with the words “Go! Tell!” But they cannot hear us.

Perhaps, though, these commands, “Go! Tell!” are not really intended for the women at the tomb.  Perhaps they are meant for us.  When we look with frustration upon the women at the tomb and their fear, do dare look at ourselves and into ourselves? I wonder how we have done with that message, “Go! Tell!”?  I wonder if we have heard the words of that young man at the tomb and taken them to heart? Or are we like the women who run away, afraid to tell all that they had seen and heard?  We can shout “Alleluia” on Easter morning, and sing “Jesus Christ is Risen today!” but when Easter morn is over, do we have the courage to proclaim the risen Lord to the world around us?  Or are we afraid? Are we afraid of being mocked? Are we afraid of the foolishness both of the cross and the empty tomb?  Do we really believe that Christ is risen?

Has the resurrection of Jesus penetrated our hearts? One commentator noted astutely, “The high meaning of ‘he is risen!’ never really gets into a person until it gets into his feet.”  Are we ready to respond to the words “Go! Tell!” or do we leave depart clandestinely from the scene, skulking away from the empty tomb, never telling anyone of the miracle we have witnessed, never sharing our “alleluia”?

I want to consider what the resurrection might look like if it really “got into our feet.” One of my favourite Jesus movies is the film Godspell, which I think has the best depiction of the Resurrection of Jesus in any film. In the beginning of the film, John the Baptist -- a street busker singing “Prepare ye the way of the Lord” -- calls people out of their busy New York lives to baptism in the Central Park fountain (the TV show “Friends” stole this, by the way).  As the drama unfolds, New York seems emptied of its people except for Jesus, his followers, and those who would slay him. After Jesus’ death, his disciples pick up his body, and a single female voice begins singing, “Long live God,” and others begin to join in singing the song of John the Baptist, “Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord.”  They begin quietly at first, and then increase both in volume and in heartiness.  Carrying the body, they break into a joyful dance and sing lustily as they carry the body of Jesus out into the streets of New York (now repopulated and crowded) and into the lives of ordinary men and women. We are reminded of the words of the young man at the tomb in St. Mark’s Gospel, “See, he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.”   In Godspell, faith in the risen Jesus overcomes the scandal and fear of both the crucifixion and the empty tomb.  The words “Go” and “Tell” are taken to heart and Good News is proclaimed. It seems to me that in the abrupt ending of his Gospel, this is what St. Mark is calling us to do.

The abrupt ending of St. Mark’s Gospel is an invitation for us not only to write the ending of the story, but to BE the final chapter.  St. Mark is calling to us “Go and tell!”  St. Mark is saying to us, “Fear not!”  As St. Paul reminds us in First Corinthians 15, he was last of all the people to whom the risen Jesus appeared. Having never followed Jesus while the Lord was alive, having persecuted the church, he was least fit to be called an apostle, and yet, the last became first. To us, untimely born, perhaps afraid, the Risen Jesus appears and bids us to carry his glorious body into the world for the healing of the nations, with the words, “Go! Tell!”