United Methodist Church Hyde Park, NY

WHEN EMPTY ISN’T ALL THERE IS
Mark 16:1-8
 
 
 
My second favorite Easter story –after the Gospel story of Jesus’ Resurrection – is about the little boy named Steven. His mother told his story to Father Miles O’Brien Riley, who wrote it down for the rest of us.
 
All you have to know by way of introduction is that Steven had a disease that made him walk and talk differently and miss several years of school. As a result, Steven was ten years old and still in the second grade with six- and seven-year-olds. Kids can be brutal and often teased Steven, so his parents and teachers tried to protect him somewhat and prevent embarrassment.
 
The story begins just before Easter when Steven’s teacher was trying to explain the meaning and mystery of Easter. She told them the Gospel account of Jesus’ death and burial and how the disciples came on Sunday morning only to discover an empty tomb. She used every metaphor, example, and symbol she could think of to make our faith story come alive: springtime, hope, rebirth; but she couldn’t be sure that her second graders understood.
 
One day she went shopping and saw a display of big, colored, plastic eggs. She had a brainstorm. She purchased fifteen of the eggs, one for each student in her class, and passed them out Friday afternoon to the kids.
 
“All right, children,” she said, “I want each of you to take your special Easter egg home this weekend and try to find some little symbol of Jesus’ resurrection in nature or in your home. Bring them back on Monday morning and we’ll all play Show and Tell!” The kids roared with approval. “Just bring your little symbol or reminder in your egg – don’t put your name on it.” She didn’t want to embarrass Steven if he didn’t get the assignment.
 
Monday morning all fifteen colored plastic eggs arrived on her desk and the teacher opened the first, as the children watched in rapt curiosity.
 
The first egg contained a flower. “What a wonderful symbol of Easter,” said the teacher.
“Remember how we talked about flowers as symbols of dying and rising – that’s why we have flowers at funerals – a reminder that when the seed is planted in the earth, God’s smile in the sun and tears in the rain nourish that seed and it grows to new and fuller life.” Well, at this point little Annie who had brought the flower couldn’t stand it any longer and blurted out: “That’s my flower, teacher!” “It’s wonderful, Annie,” said the teacher. “Thank you.” Annie beamed.
 
She opened the second egg. It had a rock in it. She thought it must be Steven’s. She put it to one side. Mark raised his hand. “Teacher, how about my egg?” The teacher said, “Mark, you just have a rock here.” “Turn the rock over, teacher.” She did and discovered moss growing there. “Mark, it’s perfect. Life where you least expect it – a perfect symbol of the mystery of Easter hope.” Mark’s chest puffed with pride.
The teacher opened the third egg and – you won’t believe it, but I swear this is a true story – a gorgeous butterfly flew out. “Oh, children, look at this lovely symbol of resurrection. I never even thought of it myself, but you know how the caterpillar sort of dies in the cocoon, and then is reborn more beautiful that before and flies up to God’s heavens.” Little Suzie couldn’t hold back any longer. “That’s my butterfly, teacher!”
 
The teacher opened the fourth egg. It was empty. She knew it was Steven’s and reached for another egg. Steven raised his hand awkwardly. “How about my egg, teacher?” “But Steven, your egg is empty.” But out of the mouth of babes come words of wisdom! Steven answered, “Yes, I know, but so was Jesus’ tomb empty, and that was a sign of hope for the whole world.”
 
It was a little boy, physically and mentally challenged, who grasped the paradox of Easter: sometimes empty is full.
 
When the women arrived at Jesus’ tomb early on the first Easter morning, they found the great stone removed from the opening and Jesus’ body gone! A young man was seated to the right of the tomb; his white robe identified him as a heavenly messenger,
an angel. His sudden appearance frightened them, but his greeting reassured them. He told them plainly that Jesus, who was crucified, dead, and buried, had been raised from the dead. “Look,” he directed them, “there is the place they laid him.” The burial slab was bare. The tomb was empty.
 
But empty wasn’t all there was. The empty tomb was full of hope, full of promise, full of blessing, full of life. The emptiness bore witness that Jesus had risen from the dead. The emptiness proclaimed that death is not the end; the end is life. The emptiness revealed God’s promise of eternity.
 
Easter is the day when it becomes clear that with God empty isn’t all there is. Where we perceive emptiness and nothing, God, in mystery and silence, hidden from our sight, is working miracles, proving that love prevails over hate, grace overshadows sin, light triumphs over darkness, life conquers death. The empty tomb is where our faith begins.
 
Steven’s story has a bittersweet epilogue. His disease got worse that spring and he died in June. When people came to the church for the funeral they found, on top of Steven’s little coffin, fifteen colored plastic eggs – all of them empty.
 
Alleluia – praise be to God – and amen.