sermons

Faith when the Road Isn't Clear

Resurrection Bearers

Ivy Anthony

Apr 27, 2025

Hello everyone — I’m Ivy, a pastor here. I use she/her pronouns. Last Sunday we celebrated Easter together. It was joyous, and celebratory — we had a choir, and baptisms, and an abundance of bao from Chinatown and a meaningful sermon and an egg hunt. 

It was a good day.

And as best we could, we joined in the ancient refrain:

Christ is risen!

Christ is risen indeed!

We leaned into the joy of that refrain, and the promise it holds for our real, everyday lives.
And now, here we are a week later — recognizing that resurrection doesn’t change reality overnight.

Resurrection is real and the roads of our days are long and often unclear.

For Jesus’ followers Easter morning came, and with it Herod was still king. Caesar was still in Rome, the chief priests were still chief priests. The empire still ruled. Jesus rose—but the systems that crushed him still stood. And in our lives too—resurrection has happened, and still, we face grief, injustice, sickness, and confusion.

And so the question isn’t ‘did resurrection happen’?
The question is: how do we live now that it has?

Resurrection isn’t a tidy ending… it is a beginning. 
And the disciples — didn’t get a roadmap or step-by-step plan for the road of faith ahead. 
They got something more vulnerable, more mysterious and more impactful:
They got Jesus.
Alive. Lovingly present. Walking beside them. Calling their names. 

And so do we.

And so this morning, we begin not at the cross, but in the mystery just after—with Mary Magdalene. One of the first to not only witness resurrection…but to become a bearer of it.  

And the question at the heart of her story—and maybe all of ours — is what our next 4-week series will be about: How do we carry our faith when the road isn’t clear?

PRAYER: THANK You JESUS – that you are relentless in your love for us. That you deposit yourself in the most familiar of ways to us and also the most surprising. This morning, God may you enliven our senses — surround us with your presence unto hope and fullness of life. – Amen. 

This time of year reminds me of Fenway Park. Growing up in Maine — the big April school vacation trip would be a trip to a Red Sox game.  Just my mom would take the five of us and we would park at the end of the blue line at Wonderland station and connect to the green line at Government Center and then take it out to Fenway.

My mom always dressed my FOUR brothers in identical t-shirts to be able to spot and count them quickly in the crowds.

And I remember the last time I went I was in high school. I was dating a guy who also came along for that trip. As well as a friend of my mom’s and her son.. So it was a big group of us!

Despite being an avid sports fan — I don’t really remember much about those games. More the atmosphere, the cracker jacks box, the spectacle that many Red Sox fans can be. It was lively, gritty, busy, people-y — I loved it. In fact those games helped me fall in love with Boston — and were a primary reason I went to college here, and why I’ve stayed since 1995. 

When the game ended that day — we all made our way at rush hour back to the T.. Switching trains at government center was a mad dash to smoosh ourselves into the subway car just as the doors were closing, But we made it. 

About two stops away from Government Center — my mom asked me, “hey did you see Ian on the train?”  I was with my boyfriend so I wanted to seem cool and chill — and I rolled my eyes and was like, “yah — I saw him, he’s on.” 

When we got to Wonderland about 40 minutes later — we realized in fact Ian was not on the train. 

He was somewhere back at government center .

This of course was 30 years ago, in the days of no cell phones, no drop a pin for your location. 

I remember my mom, racing to talk to a MBTA Staff — and praying that he would just stay put — not move. 

That even though he might feel lost, confused, overwhelmed and scared… even though he would be looking for the ones he loved but couldn’t see — that he would just stay. Put.  

In the Gospel of John we find a similar kind of moment — the passage we’re about to read picks up just after the chaos and wonder of Easter morning.

Mary Magdalene went to the tomb early and found it empty. She’s already run to tell Peter and another disciple, and they’ve come and gone—perplexed, unsure of what to make of it.

But Mary stays — she  lingers.

I invite you to follow along with me: 

 Scripture | John 20: 11-18 Common English Bible)

Mary stood outside near the tomb, crying. As she cried, she bent down to look into the tomb. She saw two angels dressed in white, seated where the body of Jesus had been, one at the head and one at the foot. The angels asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”

She replied, “They have taken away my Lord, and I don’t know where they’ve put him.” As soon as she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she didn’t know it was Jesus.

Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who are you looking for?”

Thinking he was the gardener, she replied, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him and I will get him.”

Jesus said to her, “Mary.”

She turned and said to him in Aramaic, “Rabbouni” (which means Teacher).

Jesus said to her, “Don’t hold on to me, for I haven’t yet gone up to my Father. Go to my brothers and sisters and tell them, ‘I’m going up to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”

Mary Magdalene left and announced to the disciples, “I’ve seen the Lord.” 

We’ll return to this scripture and story in a moment—because Mary’s encounter is so rich. But what’s striking is that she’s not alone. She’s not alone in the garden — but she’s also not alone in the long history of Jesus followers…

It turns out that her moment of not recognizing Jesus at first… is actually part of a larger pattern — and more the norm than the exception.

1. Other stories:

Yes — Mary thinks that Jesus was the gardener.
The Emmaus disciples thought he was a stranger along the road.
Thomas needed to see the wounds.
Peter didn’t realize it was Jesus until the nets overflowed with fish.
Paul was actually blinded by light before he could see who Jesus truly was.
The disciples in the boat were scared in the storm and asked, “Who is this?”
People couldn’t believe Joseph’s boy could be the Messiah.
John the Baptist, even from prison, still had to ask: “Are you the one?”
Peter called him Messiah — and then tried to talk him out of the cross.
A woman at a well thought he was just another thirsty traveler.

— and so on — 

With faith, with Jesus —things certainly don’t always look or unfold the way we always expect.

Maybe today — you aren’t sure where Jesus is—
Maybe you are confused, doubting, tired, or afraid—
maybe  you thought he’d be somewhere or show up some way—

Let it be known — you are in very good company.

“Christ is risen indeed!” — is sometimes easier to say than to believe. 

Spiritual Practice:

This helped me this week. Somehow, I didn’t feel as alone knowing that the followers of Jesus and the saints before me have walked this same path too. Walking into the post-Easter days that ask us to carry resurrection in a world that hasn’t changed overnight. These days hold an odd combination—so many things are familiar and known—my surroundings; home, work, rhythms and schedules….And yet, underneath it all, there’s an undercurrent of uncertainty.

The world feels increasingly unfamiliar, unsettling, and disorienting. And I find myself reaching to see Jesus wherever I can—finding Him sometimes in the ways I’m used to, the familiar ways — and also stretching to encounter Him in spots where I never realized he’s been. 

I believe these days are asking us to seek and find Jesus in new ways.  Not because he’s not where He’s always been – but because we will need him to BE IN ALL THE places we haven’t yet found him to be, as well.

And that’s what I love about the story we just read of Mary Magdalene. Mary goes looking for Jesus—but doesn’t recognize him at first.
She’s grieving, confused, overwhelmed… and then what breaks through?
Her name. He says her name.
And everything changes.

Mary’s encounter is so human. So honest. 

She thought he’d be in the tomb. He wasn’t.
She thought he was the gardener. He wasn’t.
She didn’t know it was Jesus—until love spoke her name.

I believe this is how Jesus still comes to us.
Not always in the places we expect, or the prayers we’ve prayed non-stop, or the scriptures we’ve memorized.

 Not always when we feel prepared.

But always—lovingly.
Always—by name.

We, like Mary, are being asked to live into resurrection before everything around us looks different. Before the systems change. Before the grief lifts.

Before the road is clear.

And so the story of the resurrection goes… as I read it.  It’s mystery and life and hope and it starts and ends with Mary loving Jesus. (And Jesus loving Mary)
And Every. Moment. In-Between. Is of course an expression of this deep love. 
The moments, like us when we rush to find Jesus in our despair, where we go to find him where he should be, where we last knew him to be. 

But we can’t find him!  When we are perplexed. WHERE we fall to our knees in exhaustion. Where we cry, huge heaping sobs, and say “this is tooooo hard!” And where we ask bold, true questions like “where are you JESUS?” Where we shout,  “YOU SHOULD BE HERE!”  Mary’s story is our story too, a

“human account of being wounded and resurrected at the same time.” (Richard Rohr).

And Easter is an invitation to not only celebrate the resurrection of Jesus  — but to realize that every message of Jesus is also a message about all of us — humanity. Mary shows us this, she wasn’t just a bystander to the resurrection of Jesus, but she herself becomes an active bearer of the resurrection. 

The luster, the shine to resurrection, is that we are invited to find Jesus in the parts of our lives, where we haven’t recognized him before… Resurrection asks us to keep looking for life, to keep showing up again and again and to trust that loving Jesus—a Jesus who some days we can’t seem to recognize —is still worth it.

To trust that in that love, Jesus will keep greeting us again and again.

Because that’s what he’s always done.

He meets people right where they are—at the edge of grief, in the midst of fear, in the ordinariness of their lives.
He walks beside them on long roads.
He shows up behind locked doors and says, “Peace be with you.”
He stands on shorelines, calling friends to breakfast.
He stretches out his hands and invites the doubters closer.
He breaks bread—and opens eyes as well as hearts.
He calls them by name in garden places.
He calls us by name. . . over and over again.

The MBTA staff had been announcing Ian’s name for a good 30 minutes over the platform speakers. “Ian Hanson please come to the MBTA  booth.”  Ian didn’t hear this announcement — it was lost in the shuffle and movement and noise of life. Of people rushing past, hundreds of lives going by him.

An hour and a half later, my mom made it back to the station. She spotted his neon green t-shirt from the length of the platform.

And she called his name.

Not over the intercom. Not through a microphone.
She just called out: “Ian!”

And he looked up.  Immediately. That one word sliced through all the noise, the crowd, the fear.

That voice that carried love, that he knew above all else. 

Faith, sometimes, is like that.

Not about racing ahead, but staying where you are—confused, overwhelmed, unsure—and still trusting that Love will call your name.

To keep loving Jesus from the same spot on the platform of life that we are in — again and again — day after day…..  To notice. To show up. 

This is what it means to be resurrection bearers.  To be invited into an upending, disruptive, shaking story – one that calls each of us as if by NAME to declare that yes,

“we have seen the Lord,”

that Jesus is here.

 So how do we hold onto that truth—how do we live into resurrection before the road is clear? One way is to practice — to familiarize yourselves to God’s voice — personal, tender– calling us  by name. Here’s a simple way to do just that.

YOUR FULL NAME || PRACTICE
Here’s a quick practice to fully embrace your “inner Mary Magdalene” – your FULL NAME as a resurrection bearer.  I’ll walk us through how to build our FULL NAMES.  Use this as a way to remember your name, that Jesus calls again and again in the most familiar ways and the most surprising ones. (take a moment to close your eyes — to be with Jesus)

1. Say your first name, “Ivy.”
2. Bring to mind an encounter with God you had this week (recently).
   What did God give to you in this encounter? Try to get it to one word, or a short phrase.
   (Examples: courage, compassion, breath, joy, comfort, rest, relief, etc…”)
   1. Use this word as the prefix to your name. So now you have,  “Rest, Ivy.”
3. Lastly, remember the declaration of resurrection Mary Magdalene made, “I have seen the Lord” and Jesus’ resurrection promise that He declares to us each day, “I AM here.”
   1. Use this phrase, “I AM here”,  as your last name.
4. Put your full name together:  “Courage, Ivy. I AM here.”
5. Repeat as necessary, to remember that you hold the power of the resurrection within you, every time you encounter Jesus and embrace what He gives you.

May this be your resurrection bearer NAME.  Hold it close.
Let it remind you: Jesus still calls us by name.
Not with explanation or instruction,
but with presence,  with love,  with a voice that knows you deeply.

When Mary didn’t recognize Jesus, he didn’t give her a theology.
He didn’t correct her or explain himself.
He simply said her name: “Mary.”

Your name is not just what others call you. It’s what God calls out of you.

We live in a world where Good Friday shadows still linger. But we rise to Easter morning again and again. Every day we get to choose:

To carry fear or to carry faith.
To give in to despair, or to reveal life.

This is the work of resurrection bearers:
To keep showing up.
To keep walking.
To keep weeping and wondering and whispering, “I have seen the Lord.”

So go today with your resurrection name.

Carry it into the known and unknown places of your day.

Into the places that ache. Into the places that wait.

And know this: You are not alone. You are not lost.

You are named, and loved..

You are a resurrection bearer.