I think it’s refreshing to see in the Acts of the Apostles that while many great and even miraculous things were happening in the Church during its early years there were also problems and trouble, and St. Luke is not afraid to write about them. When it came time to distribute the food, the Jewish Christians who mainly spoke Greek complained that their widows were not receiving the same amount of food as the widows who spoke only Aramaic. Discrimination! So the apostles decide it’s not right they should neglect preaching and teaching in order to wait on tables, so they create the diaconate and ordain seven men. And this is the reason Deacon John came down from Oregon City today, for he too wants to wait on you at table after Liturgy. He will refill your coffee, bring you seconds, and clear your plates after you are finished, in imitation of the first deacons. He only asks one thing in return: no tipping, please. God bless you, Father Deacon. You are an icon of humility.
I enjoyed reading a short piece by Fr. Alexander Schmemann recently. He wrote that the people who followed Jesus during His public ministry were mostly looking to get something from Him. They wanted help, healing, miracles, to be set free from Roman occupation, to have their material lives made better. They did not seem to understand the Lord spoke of God’s love, and their need to love not only God, but one another, and not only one another, but also their neighbor. In His own love for them, and for us, Jesus said He would offer Himself as a living sacrifice. They didn’t get it, they didn’t understand. For them, Jesus was a handout, a man Who could give them what they wanted.
Palm Sunday was a great celebration in honor of the Lord, but by the end of the week, when Christ had not given them what they wanted, they abandoned Him. In the Garden of Gethsemene His three closest disciples kept falling asleep as He prayed in agony. After His arrest even Peter denies Him three times. It says in Matthew’s Gospel, “All the disciples abandoned him and ran away.” Wholesale desertion.
But there were a few who remained faithful to their Lord. St. John writes, “Standing by the cross were His mother, His mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.” Later on Joseph of Arimathea asks Pilate for Jesus’ body and Nicodemus offers the burial spices.
At dawn on the third day these women who stood by the cross, came to the grave to anoint the body of Jesus, as was the custom. Christ had not yet risen from the dead and it is unlikely the women expected any such thing to happen.
These women were not present like the apostles were, most of the time, when Jesus spoke of His coming passion, death and resurrection. For them, much less than for the apostles, they had no clue as to what would happen according to the Lord. They just knew He was dead, crucified in a most brutal way. They loved Jesus. That’s why they stood by the cross with Him, suffering because He was suffering, and willing to bury Him and anoint Him after His horrible death. Even in this time of great darkness, their love shone as a light. Their devotion never wavered, their loyalty never faded. They did not shy away from the cross, they did not turn away from the burial, they did not neglect the last sad duty of anointing the body of the Teacher whom they loved. They were faithful to Him until there was no more that they could do. It was to these women that the Resurrection was announced, because it was fitting that the most loyal should receive this news first. Those who wept at the tomb became those who learned of the Resurrection and rejoiced. Their love ended up not in loss, but in the promise of eternal life.
What would we have done had we been there? Would we be like the disciples who ran away and hid, or like the Myrrh-bearers who remained faithful through the whole passion, death and burial? Truly—who would we have been like? More importantly who are we like today? Are we afraid to love Christ more, because of what might happen if we place ourselves more completely into His hands? Are we afraid to love Christ more because the world might ridicule us or even condemn us for not accepting its own version of goodness? Are we afraid to love Christ more because members of our families do not? Are we afraid to love Christ more because it’s easier to be lazy, indifferent, materially-minded and self-centered? Do we see Jesus as the source of handouts, and until He fixes our problems we cannot love Him more; because we’re too busy trying to fix them ourselves?
The Myrrh-bearers were a light in the great darkness that followed the death of Jesus, because of their love, their loyalty and their faithfulness. We—we who have believed in the resurrection, what light shall we bring to the world, starting even in our homes and in our church? It will only be seen if we faithfully strive to continue to love Him, Risen from the Dead.