I believe most of us are familiar with the north end of Canandaigua Lake. Most of it is Kershaw Park but there’s also the city pier, country club, Lake House, and more. It’s a nice place. You can rent a luxury apartment that overlooks it all. Things are clear and distinct. If you walk in Kershaw Park you can walk on a solid dry trail almost at the water’s edge. There are rocks protecting the shore from erosion. In the swimming area there’s a sandy beach. The water is usually clean and clear.
I’m pretty sure most of us are not familiar with the south end of Canandaigua Lake. There you’re in the West River Area. Things couldn’t be more different from the north. The lake gets shallower and shallower; and then, you’re not quite sure where it ends. There are lily pads which transition into cattails and reeds. Sooner or later land forms, but isn’t not entirely clear where. The place covers some six thousand one hundred acres. There are channels in and among the reeds. Some of them you can get a boat through. Many you can’t. Duck Weed creates a green carpet over the channels. It’s hard to know what is land and what is not. Some places are dirt. Many places are like a peaty moss that you really can’t walk on. The place is rich with a diversity of wildlife: turtles, snakes, deer, beavers, various birds, and loads of insects. You never know what the place is going to smell like. It usually has a wet musty smell. There are no luxury apartments or hotels or country clubs.
I believe the north end of the lake used to be a lot like the south end, but over the centuries we have shaped the north into something definable and distinct. We humans like that sort of thing. We humans can find it meaningful to visit the marshy lands but we don’t want to actually live there.
Last Sunday on Easter we looked at the end of Mark’s gospel. It ended strangely. The women came to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus for burial. They didn’t do it on Friday because at sundown it was the Sabbath. The Sabbath went all the way through until Saturday night and Sunday sunrise was the earliest time they could get there. You can imagine the feelings of the women as they planned to anoint Jesus. Not only was it a difficult task, they also anticipated his body would also be starting to smell from the beginnings of decay. What a difficult time it would be for them to perform this service for the man upon whom they had put so much hope.
Then of course, when they got to the tomb they found the stone rolled back, and it was empty! Jesus was nowhere to be found! A young man appears at the tomb and tells them they should tell the disciples that Jesus was raised from the dead. And that they should to go Galilee. There they would see him.
Mark’s gospel ends with the enigmatic line that we translated literally, “And nothing to no one did they speak. The reason they were afraid was because.”
That’s it. End of the gospel. Strange.
You may remember from last week that we said Mark’s gospel was actually circular. The final sentence is incomplete. So is the first sentence. So that when we put the final incomplete sentence into place with the very first incomplete sentence we get a good sentence, “The reason they were afraid was because the beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ the Son of God.”
That’s all well and good. But the early Christians didn’t like that. What we read in worship today are the varied endings that have been attached to Mark’s gospel. I’m not going to preach on them specifically. If you study them you can see that they are derived from the endings of the other gospels and from Acts. But I want to focus on why there was the desire to give Mark’s gospel a better ending.
Did people not understand that Mark’s gospel was circular? Maybe. In fact, that’s probably quite likely. If we’re honest, it isn’t a sure thing that Mark’s gospel is circular. It is only a theory. It is a very good theory, and one with a lot of evidence to support it. But it is still a theory.
And Mark probably also has something else going on too. Mark’s gospel also has several layers of meaning going on simultaneously. The meaning you get is determined by the level at which you look. Mark’s gospel is a lot like the West River Area at the south end of Canandaigua Lake. It lacks crisp distinctions and solid definition.
Remember back to the stories of Jesus’ arrest and trail. Jesus and the disciples go to Gethsemane after the Last Supper. Jesus prays. The disciples fall asleep. Jesus is deeply disturbed and asks the disciples to pray with him. But they keep falling asleep.
When the crowd from the religious leaders comes to arrest Jesus the disciples become scared. One of the disciples, cuts off the ear of the slave of the high priest. The disciples flee in disarray.
When Jesus is on trial Peter becomes daring enough to hang around the courtyard to see what will happen. But as people recognize Peter and connect him with Jesus, he denies ever knowing Jesus. So much for the courage of the closest of Jesus’ disciples!
By the time Jesus is crucified there’s no one left. We’re told that some women are watching from a distance. Three of them were: Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joses, and Salome. They don’t have the courage to come closer but at least they haven’t totally fled. Realistically they had little to fear. Women were of such low account no one would have cared if they were associated with Jesus, as long as they didn’t cause trouble. So by the time Jesus is dead the disciples have fled in fear but we still have a few women looking on from a distance.
But, according to Mark, what happens Easter Sunday morning? The women see the tomb and the young man. They are filled with terror and amazement. And they flee the tomb telling no one anything. End of story.
Who’s left? No one. The male disciples fled in fear on Thursday and Friday. Now on Sunday the women followers have fled in fear too.
Yes, Mark’s gospel is circular. But he also ends it here. There is no hope for the future of the Jesus movement. No one is left. It is as if Mark’s gospel has left us in the middle of the West River Area. 6,100 acres of undefinable swamp and marsh. What’s lake? What’s land? What’s a navigable channel? What is not?
We don’t like that. Neither did the earliest Christians. Historical study shows us that early in the second century the endings based on the other gospels and Acts were already being tacked on to Mark. We want something solid to stand on – whether that is literal land or scriptural certainty. The additions to Mark’s gospel are like the north end of Canandaigua Lake which has been drained, and filled in, and developed, and defined.
But uncomfortable as Mark originally leaves us, Mark has done us a great service that we are well to give thanks for.
How often in life are you unsure of things? What is right? What is wrong? What will work? What won’t? Which political party is the least-worst? Which philosophy is right? Should parents push their children do to all sorts of sports and music and drama so that they fit in, even as parents know their kids are overscheduled? Should parents force their kids to come to worship to show the right priorities, or is forcing them going to cause a rebellion?
What do you do when your employer does things that aren’t entirely ethical? Should you stay to try to improve things, and yet possibly perpetuate the problem; or should you go looking for something better? Nothing in perfect. No one is perfect. I could list things on an on.
The truth is, much as we don’t like it, a lot of life is like living in the West River Area. There just isn’t the clarity and definition that we want.
I believe that the gospel writer Mark knew that. Mark does not tie everything up neatly. Mark shows that the story of Jesus is not afraid to dwell with us in those uncertain places; or even when everything is uncertain. It is as if Mark knew that the followers of Jesus that were yet to come would have struggles. They did not need simple easy clean answers. They needed scripture to reflect the real messiness of a life of faith.
It is easy to look at the past with a nostalgic eye. Things looked simpler, easier, more definite. It is easy to read the scriptures and think, “If only I could have been there. If only I could have seen Jesus face to face. If only I could have seen Jesus’ miracles first-hand then my faith would have no doubts.” Matthew’s gospel, Luke’s gospel, John’s gospel, and the Acts of the Apostles could all create that longing in us. Indeed, we do need that definition for our lives. But Mark also dares to meet us in the reality in which we live.
Men fled. Women fled. No one left. Where’s the solid ground to spread the gospel? Now what? That probably feels real.
Mark’s gospel does not give us an easy way out, for that was not his intention. Mark’s gospel does show us solidly that God knows we will feel the way we often feel. And, that we are not abandoned or condemned for it.
When you feel uncertain, keep praying, keep struggling. Go through the way Jesus witnesses to the nature of God’s love over and over again. Use that as the guide to act. Will you be certain? No. Will you avoid mistakes? No. But that is the type of authentic faith that our gospel gives us, and promises where we will find God.
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