
In Mark 16, the resurrection of Jesus is narrated, beginning with Mary Magdalene and others discovering the empty tomb and trembling in fear, leading to their initial silence. Jesus first appears to Mary Magdalene, who had seven demons cast from her; however, the disciples do not believe her report of his resurrection. Subsequently, Jesus appears to two disciples and then to the eleven apostles, rebuking them for their disbelief. He commissions them to preach the Gospel globally, promising salvation to believers and signs accompanying them. The sermon reflects on the chaotic nature of the Gospel’s ending and the historical doctrines of inerrancy and canonicity, prioritizing the authority of Scriptures over academic debates. The preacher emphasizes the transformative power of Jesus’ presence in overcoming fear and doubt, urging believers to remember God’s works and to recognize that Christ precedes them in their missions, asserting that He prepares a way in every situation they encounter. The sermon concludes with a prayer for guidance and protection as they grow in faith.
Transcription
Choose show more to view the transcription. Transcriptions are AI generated and MAY be incorrect. Rely on the spoken word heard in the audio file.
show more
A reading from the Gospel of Mark, the 16th chapter, beginning in verse 1.
And they went out quickly and fled from the sepulchre. For they trembled and were amazed.
Neither said they anything to any man, for they were afraid. Now when Jesus was risen early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had cast seven devils. And she went and told them that he had been with him, as they mourned and wept. And they, when they had heard that he was alive and had been seen of her, believed not. And after that, he appeared in another form unto two of them, as they walked and went unto the country. And they went and told unto the residue,
neither believed they them. Afterward, Jesus appeared unto the eleven as they sat at meat, and upbraided them for their unbelief and their hardness of heart, because they believed not them which had seen him after he was risen. And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature. He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be damned. And these signs shall follow them that believe.
They shall speak with new tongues. They shall take up serpents, and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them. They shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover. So then after the Lord had spoken unto them, he was received up into heaven and sat on the right hand of God. And they went forth and preached everywhere, the Lord working with them and confirming the word with signs following. Amen. Please pray with me.
Blessed Lord, you’ve caused all the Holy Scriptures to be written for our learning. Grant us so to hear them, to read them, to mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that by patience and the comfort of your Holy Word, we may embrace and ever hold fast that blessed hope of everlasting life, which you have given us in our Savior Jesus. Amen.
I’m a native Alexandrian, just across the river. I currently reside up in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, at Trinity Anglican Seminary. And I say that in advance because I think it’s a very hazardous undertaking for me as an Anglican to be preaching to a Presbyterian congregation. There’s a famous incident with Jenny Geddes, as many of you probably know, where that feisty Presbyterian struck her pastor in the head with a stool. That was a poor Anglican clergyman, of course.
Who was simply doing as he was told and brought the prayer book into the church. His bishop, Walter Whitford, was not amused. And so when the riots persisted across Scotland, he ascended his Scottish pulpit with two loaded pistols and put them on either side of the pulpit. The muzzle sticking out was very clear that he would use them if necessary. So in that vein, I said I’d make a deal. You keep your chairs on all four legs on the floor. I’ll keep my arms and my belt and we’ll call it good.
Mark chapter 16 is a very strange text. For centuries, it has made scholars and pastors alike pull out their hair, and for good reason. One, it gives a sequence of events in a very chaotic order that’s not very clear, always even who is talking and who’s being received. And then it also has three different endings that all come down to us from the earliest days of the church. The very earliest full manuscripts we have, the entire book, end the gospel at verse 8,
disobeying the young man, and then not telling the apostles anything. And the book ends. But a few manuscripts in Egypt and Ethiopia from the end of the first century, as far as we can tell, tack a verse right after 8, directly contradicting verse 8, and saying the women did then go tell the apostles, and they believed, and went about preaching with power and authority. A quick circuit to the good ending of the story. That one has not been widely received anywhere, for whatever it’s worth. But most manuscripts we possess,
and very early, and then a lot of complete text later, give us what’s called the long ending. And that’s what we just read, and has been in most Western Bibles since the Roman Empire. And that ending slips in, Jesus appearing to Mary in a garden, the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, and then rushes straight to the Ascension and the Great Commission. It’s also very funny, the very next page of your Bible, Luke chapter 1, opens to Theophilus by promising an orderly account of what has taken place. And you’d be far from the first if you thought the doctor
Mark’s hasty construction in mind. So what do we do with an ending like this? And I’ll jump into that and then we’ll get into the meat of the sermon from here. And historically, Christians faithfully have answered this in two ways that complement. The first is the doctrine of inerrancy. So John Stott, the great Anglican partner of Billy Graham, put it simply, Scripture is without error in the original manuscripts, though copies and transmissions can carry scribal mistakes. This view pushes us back towards the earliest manuscripts
that we can find, and it stays open to new evidence. But the weakness is it can’t actually tell us a certainty where Mark’s Gospel actually ends. And to be clear, this is one of very few instances. There’s about, there’s this, there’s one chapter, one story in the Gospel of John, one verse in 1 John, and other than that, it’s occasionally a sentence or a fragment of a sentence that’s added in some manuscripts. These are very rare for what it’s worth, but an interesting question for us.
They can’t tell us where Mark’s gospel ends, and so its leaders in the church that rely solely on this usually end up relying on the latest academic research, listening to the latest archaeologists, whether or not the end of Mark can be preached that year or not. And the second doctrine which helps protect against that by itself is called canonicity. This is prized by many of the English reformers, and it says the church receives the Bible as one unified whole document. It’s handed down across generations.
It’s not opposed to inerrancy in the slightest, but it isn’t threatened per se at slight manuscript variance either. If a verse or a phrase entered the text as early as the 100s AD, and maybe was written by Mark, and the churches read it for nearly 2,000 years, then cutting it out without the consent of the churches would actually do far more harm than it would good. Ancient Roman roads, as they were constructed, lasted so long because their limestone would actually re-fuse together when it cracked.
And the doctrine of canonicity works the same way. So long as a scripture stays faithful to itself, it can absorb a small variant without losing one ounce of its clarity or authority. Inerrancy emphasizes the divinely inspired deposit of scripture. Canonicity, so to speak, emphasizes the unbroken witness of the Holy Spirit using his scriptures through the centuries.
So whatever modern scholars theorize, they can’t take away the Bible we’ve inherited from the pulpits of the church. They don’t have the authority to remove the words there. This book, the scriptures, is our inheritance. It is our posterity. And the academy serves the church. The church does not serve the academy. So with that long preface, let’s jump into the text. Mark’s account opens with three women keeping the fourth commandment and out of an instinctive zeal and boldness,
coming to where Jesus was laid and guarded by soldiers. The women don’t even seem to consider the practical difficulties of getting to the body of Jesus until they’re almost at the tomb. And very early in the morning, the first day of the week, they came into the sepulcher at the rising of the sun. And they said among themselves, who shall roll away the stone from the door of the sepulcher? The whole account has a tenor of Abraham and Isaac’s story as well. Where is the sacrifice, Father?
The sacrifice. Abraham believed in the resurrection of the dead, Hebrews tells us. And these women seemed to hope in such a resurrection now, despite themselves almost. Mary Magdalene saw her brother Lazarus walk out of a tomb less than two weeks earlier. And Genesis 22 says that Abraham lifted up his eyes, and behold, behind him a ram caught in a thicket by his horns. And just like that, his youthful son is received back from the dead. And the scene that women now inhabit is not unfamiliar.
And when the women looked, behold, they saw that the stone was rolled away. Even now, as the women lift their eyes to the hills to behold that insurmountable stone, they see instead a resurrection scene, complete with a young man. The only other young man in Mark’s Gospel is in chapter 14, and he’s one who flees naked from the soldiers to guard in Gethsemane, losing his meager covering in fright. This one is clothed in a garment of righteousness like the saints in heaven, and he tells the women not to.
Much more could be said about this young man, as it’s speculated about him, but he is far more interested in his message than in himself, and so we’ll follow his lead. The message he gives is succinct, it is clear, and it leaves no room for any uncertainty.
The first command is striking, be not affrighted. Throughout the book of Mark in particular, as I’m sure you began hearing week after week, the people are amazed by Jesus, but the angel here does not want surprise or terror or amazement. He’s demanding quiet composure. We often hear angels say something like this when they’re wrapped in great splendor, but again, Mark is pushing us in a different direction.
The young man is not particularly splendid. A serene young man doesn’t usually inspire terror. And so I think we need to look for the source of terror in the women themselves and in the disciples, which we’ll see in a minute. And there’s two kinds of fear. There’s the fear of the women and there’s the fear of the apostles. And the women have fear because of an uncertain change to their circumstances. I mean, a tomb has just been opened up. And see, the empty tomb in particular puts the end result of their faith, of their devotion,
beyond their control, outside of their control. A crucified god could be worshipped in a single location consistently. The one who leaves his tomb and don’t know where he’s going? Approaching an empty tomb meant they were no longer able to honor Jesus as they thought. They came bearing spices, but he might require something more difficult, something different. I think for a lot of us, offering spices is a lot easier worship than offering our bodies as a living sacrifice.
Wandering with Jesus on and off for three years is a lot more attractive than being stuck obeying that coward Peter for the rest of your life. Yet Jesus doesn’t call us to a romantic, wandering existence. He calls us to an orderly body, which is the church. And I think this can cause a kind of fear of suffocation or boredom. It should be no such thing, but it can be a real temptation. We good red-blooded Americans, a lot of American flags here,
we fear losing any freedom to outside authority. The war for independence was waged by many who hated not just the British crown, but any authority making demands on them, being accountable to any external structure. After the war, as the Whiskey Rebellion showed, Washington actually had to clamp down on his former soldiers because they didn’t want any authority over their life. Authority is inevitable. Being free from constraint is not a tenable position.
I think many folks fear getting married for the same reason. Matrimony forces you to settle down. You can’t pick up and leave one day. When Jesus was alive, he was a movement leader you could choose to follow or not, read about in the paper and so on, like a celebrity. But when he rises from the dead, the stakes get significantly raised. You have to make a clear choice for him or against him. He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved, but he that believeth not shall be damned.
The disciples have a different kind of fear. Their fear is not coming from an unexpected, startling shock, but a deep-seated, gnawing fear over several days, waking and sleeping. The fear of the disciples, once it sets in, is the kind of fear that cannot re-evaluate a situation, even on the oath of two or three witnesses. This is an existential fear that drives them deeper and deeper into themselves. For Peter is surely a fear stemming in part from guilt.
And this is the kind of fear that when it sits for days and you can’t get out of it, and you keep talking and cycling around it, that leads to the believing of wild conspiracies. It usually results in the fracturing of the group and the different factions,
some looking for scapegoats, what went wrong, others hatching wild and delusional plans to return to glory. And if groups with the disciples’ conditions survive at all, it’s by calcifying, let’s take a snapshot before things went wrong. And they end up looking a lot like historical societies, reenacting the good old days, collecting anthologies of their founder, yearly pledge drives. And I’m all for historical societies, but it’s not the role of the church.
It’s Jesus himself to drive the spirit of fear out of them. So how does Jesus break through to them? Well, the young man’s proclamation gives the key. And it’s pretty simple, really. He is risen. He is not here. Behold the place where they laid him. The women sought a kindly dead man from Nazareth. The disciples are locked in fear. The women don’t respond to the young man’s gospel.
See verse 8, they went out quickly. They fled from the sepulcher, for they trembled and were amazed. Neither said they anything to any man, for they were afraid. And the disciples don’t listen to the testimony of Mark or to the two disciples who do see Jesus on the road. See verses 11 and 13. And they, when they had heard that he was alive and had been seen of Mary, believed not. And the two went and told it unto the residue. Neither believed they them.
What can calm the storms of the soul, the hysteria of the crowds? It is not any preaching of angels or of men. Not the charisma of a minister. Not a deeper analysis of demographic trends or a hype video on X. It is only the presence of Jesus Christ himself. The presence of a man who’s actually defeated the tyranny of the fear of death. See, other Gospels make clear that rumors began flying about the resurrection of Jesus.
Almost immediately. You have the soldiers, you have the women. Presumably bypassers. But rumors do not comfort the soul. They actually vex it further. The resurrected Jesus knows this. And he begins following where the word of God has been preached. And he starts following and watering and protecting the seed that was scattered. He follows the words of the young man implanted in Mary Magdalene. And he reveals himself to her, confirming that he is truly risen.
Then she turns and can finally say, Rabboni, and embrace her master. Now her heart has softened that she begins to understand. Similarly, after hours of teaching that Jesus prays in the presence of two others gathered, their eyes are opened and they can say, did not our hearts burn within us? And then, last of all, our Lord goes to the upper room, to the hardest hearted of all.
Here, Jesus is most patient of all. He does not merely speak to them. He lets them touch his wounded hands, his pierced side. He breathes over them. He commissions them. And he promises them a power to match the very power that splits open the grave. He will not leave until they hold the power of the Spirit in their hands. The young man ends his testimony to the women with a picture that they fail to see in the moment before Jesus comes to them.
It’s worth noting he calls out Peter there in particular. God calls us always by name.
But now he tells them to go. The Lord first calls his people. He acts first and he acts decisively. Then his people behold him. And finally they are sent. Three observations on being sent. First is the importance of remembrance. We should be reminding fellow saints about the works of God. Gratitude ceases when memory ceases. Remember God.
Talk about his works and what he has done in your work. About the opportunities he has given you. About the words he has put in your mouth. About the person he protected you from. I think we can talk about predestination or understand the doctrine of predestination in such a way that we simply know and expect God to line everything up as he intends. But not actually give him praise to other people for the blessings and encounters that he gives us in the course of our lives. The Psalms are always talking about telling of his works of faithfulness to each other.
And secondly and more centrally, Jesus goes before you. When Peter and other disciples go fishing in Galilee in John 21, they discover Jesus had already been working. He gathers the 153 fish that they will catch on the right side, tells them to throw their net over, which is a picture of saving of the nations. And then he is cooking their breakfast, the opening meal of the day, when they come dragging themselves ashore, exhausted.
Jesus prepared the nations for the work of discipling, and he gives the church all her sustenance she needs to help her through. Even as they disbelieved the apostles did, he keeps sending witnesses to them. How much more does he aid us by his spirit every day? Thirdly and finally, Jesus says he will meet his disciples when they do the work of ministry. Do you want to see God show up?
Those who encounter him, then go where he says he has gone before. He is not led by a pillar of fire or a cloud, but by his very cross. He went into the capital and was tried there. He went into the public square and was flogged there. He went outside the camp into humiliating exile and died there. And he went into hell to suffer there. But each step of the way, he preached the gospel of the kingdom.
At the capital, Pilate then declared him king of the Jews, thrice. And the public square, the people cried for his blood to cover their sins. Outside the camp, the centurion declared him the son of God. His fellow prisoner confessed him as Lord, and the graves gave forth their dead. In hell, he proclaimed the resurrection to souls in captivity, and tens of thousands marched forth with him from death to life everlasting. And when he returned from that triumphant splendor, he collected his scattered followers,
telling them by name, comforting their sorrow, forgiving their sins, opening the scriptures, and breaking bread with them. That was the pinnacle, the last thing he did before he ascended. There’s nowhere you can go that Christ has not gone before to prepare a place for you. Whether it’s the Russell office building, the remote bedside of an aging parent, the crib of a sick toddler, or the deep feeling, plunging of deep betrayal,
or the gathering of saints, Christ goeth before you. And you will find him there. You will find him here. Our Father, I ask you to be with us now. Go before us. Keep us safe. Protect us. Keep your tongue upon our lips each and every day as we grow more and more grateful, as we continue to grow in age and grow in grace.
show less