Mark Ends, Easter Begins

The elementary school building hummed with anticipation all day. Just after lunch, a storyteller would visit for an all-school assembly. As we walked into the auditorium, we found him already there, sitting in a big easy chair, reading a book. He kept reading until the entire school was sitting at his feet. After a moment or two of silence, the storyteller looked up with a bit of a start. He leapt to his feet, tossing his book on the chair. “Oh! I didn’t hear you come in! Would you like to tell a story with me?”

Over the next half-hour, the storyteller spun the story of a knight going off to save the damsel in distress. However, he kept pausing in the midst of his story and selected a child from the audience. “Can you tell me what happened next?” The child would offer a suggestion, and the storyteller wove the child’s idea into the story. By the end of the half-hour, the knight had defeated the evil dragon, and the damsel gave him a kiss. Thanks to the intercession of one child, the story even included the knight’s horse getting a carrot for being such a good horse.

I remember that afternoon story-time with great affection. The storyteller treated each child with respect, allowing us to feel like we had part in the great story of a knight, a damsel, and a carrot-loving horse. It was not “his” story to tell. Instead, it was all of us together, telling the story. In return, the storyteller pushed us to see the many different directions a story could go. He engaged our imagination. We learned that day stories take us so many wonderful places!

Today, we hear a story that ends with a screeching halt. The gospel of Mark ends with these words:

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.

Mark the storyteller gives us a gospel that seems a bit perplexing, even to grownups. Mark’s story of Jesus ends with fear.

The gospel ends with…fear? What happened? Was the original ending lost? Somebody must have thought so. Some scholars ponder perhaps the oldest scrolls of Mark were torn, leaving such an unpolished ending for future generations to puzzle over. Just a few years after Mark’s gospel began circulating around the first century Church, some versions of Mark began to appear with an extra verse tacked on (“the shorter ending”, or Mark 16:8”b”). By the time of the second century, other manuscripts had a “longer ending” added (Mark 16:9-16), adding some rather strange verses noting that believers could handle snakes and drink poison without consequence. (A friendly reminder: do not try this at home!) Surely, the gospel does not end this way!

A fear-filled ending is an oddity, considering how we have shown up in fresh pressed Easter dresses, Easter eggs hidden away for the children afterwards. Regarding Mark’s Gospel, Fred Craddock claims this ending is so strange to hear at Easter. What is the Church, after being encouraged to shout “Alleluia!” all morning long, to do with the gospel story that ends with “fear”?

Scholar Mitzi Minor notes these three women come to the tomb and get “three shocks”. First, they find the stone rolled away from the tomb. Second, they discover a stranger dressed in white. Finally, they hear his word that Jesus is no longer here: not dead but risen and on the move to Galilee. In shock, the women flee, stunned into silence, drenched in fear, overwhelmed by the enormity of what they have encountered. Other gospels go onwards, telling of disciples eventually understanding what happened, doubters turning to believers, and Jesus himself appearing to assure them of his resurrection. Mark’s gospel ends with the image of three women running as hard as they can, off into the distance. (The Power of Mark’s Story)

Just to keep it complicated, the Greek text of Mark’s presumed “original ending” is more maddening. The best translation of Mark 16:8a tends to render the text:

“So they went out and fled the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone. They were afraid for….”

What do we do with this? “They were afraid, for….” Puzzling, isn’t it? The last word of the most ancient copies of Mark’s gospel is “for.…”, the Greek word “gar”. Instead of a conclusion in the traditional sense, we get the impression that something has gone missing. The story ends with dot-dot-dot…, trailing off, and leaving things unfinished. What happened next? Did it end with fear? Did it end with belief? Mark’s gospel, the earliest version known, leaves us hanging! They ran away, terrified and amazed, saying nothing to nobody. They were afraid for….

Now go back to the storyteller from my childhood. A good story engages the mind, taking us to some wonderful places. Jesus himself was adept at spinning a parable that left his listeners, friendly and unfriendly alike, dizzy with the implications of what the kingdom of God is like. Jesus spent his life, indeed “gave” his life, to the teaching and living out of his message. Two millennia later, we gather week after week to learn how to do likewise. There is a power in this story called “gospel”, but what do we do when the gospel vexes us with less than straightforward storytelling?

Let’s do something more common for today’s child to do when caught up in the midst of hearing a story. Let’s hit the “rewind” button and watch the story again. The women come to the tomb, discover the stone rolled away, and encounter this strange male figure dressed in white (note: other gospels claim angelic presence. Mark chooses to be a bit more demure). The man in white tells the women,

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.

Mark ends on vs. eight, however, it is really vs. seven that presents the narrative complication. Will the women run away and dismiss this word as a hoax? Is death the last word and resurrection a myth? What happens if we leave the empty tomb and, even though dizzied by what we have heard, we summon the courage and the curiosity to look towards Galilee? British scholar Morna Hooker writes,

The ending Mark demands that his readers supply—is the response of faith: it is only those who are prepared to believe and who set off on the journey of faith who will see the risen Lord. (Endings)

The gospel ends on an inconclusive yet demanding note. What comes next? Does fear or faith follow next? Rowan Williams suggests that the “lost ending” of Mark is the reader herself. Williams writes, “We have to discover for ourselves what difference is made by this life, this death, and this disorienting mystery after the crucifixion”. (Christ on Trial) Catholic storyteller Megan McKenna puts it a bit differently. At the end of Mark’s gospel, “it wasn’t enough to hear the words; [the disciples] had to live them”. (On Your Mark!)

The ending of this story, a narrative of Jesus of Nazareth, the son of God, the good news He proclaimed, lived, and died for, the end of this story depends on the storyteller stepping aside and saying, “What happened next?”

Later this summer, Kerry and I will attend a continuing education program for clergy and their spouses. The program’s leadership asked for photographs of the church: its people, ministries in action, and the edifice itself. I went around First Baptist, taking pictures of people, activities, and finally, I headed for the sanctuary to take pictures of the altar, the organ, the pews, and the stained glass.

As I scurried around the sanctuary, I found myself standing at the back of the sanctuary, looking up at the four big stained glass panels that now stream with light on this lovely Easter day: these marvelous images of the annunciation to Mary, the child Jesus before the Magi, the Baptism of the Lord, and the Crucifixion.

Despite being minister for three years now and quite familiar with this sanctuary (or so I thought), I had never noticed that there was a scene missing. Where is Easter? There is no “empty tomb” image to be found in the stained glass: no Jesus greeting Mary Magdalene in the garden, no doubting Thomas placing hand on the wounds of the resurrected Savior, no Christ commissioning the disciples to go forth to the ends of the earth.

Where is the image of the resurrection in this place? Like an exasperated reader of Mark, I want to know: Where is the end of the Gospel?

Later, as I am uploading pictures to my office computer, I kept seeing all of the pictures of congregational life flash across the computer screen:

Alyssa and Joe teaching the kids at Vacation Bible School,

Byron, Lisa, and Fran praying at Ash Wednesday service,

The congregation singing in the midst of worship,

Cindy and Bob working at a Habitat worksite down in Louisiana,

The elderly, the young, and the ages in between sharing potluck together;

The children running through Willow Park at the church picnic.