Grace and Truth: A word from pastors

The angels called her Woman. She came to the garden to mourn. But when she arrived, the stone was rolled away. The tomb was empty.

She ran to tell her friends. She told them what she’d seen, that the tomb was empty. Her friends ran to the tomb. They saw that it was empty.

After her friends had gone, she stayed in the garden. She was weeping. And not just for one loss but for two. The loss of her teacher and friend. And now this, the loss of his body, an absence she could not comprehend. Where was the body? Who had removed it? And why?

Then she looked into the tomb. She bent down and looked into the tomb. And there they were. Two angels. All dressed in white. Seated on the place where the body had been lying. One angel sat where his head had been and one at the foot. The angels spoke to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?”

“They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.”

Then another voice: “Woman, why are you weeping? Who are you looking for?”

She turned and saw him but did not recognize him. She thought he was the caretaker of the garden. She poured her heart out to this stranger. She asked him where the body of her friend was laid. She promised to take the body somewhere else, if only he would tell her where that body was. Where had he taken it?

Then came the dawn.
Jesus said to her, “Mary.”
And she knew him. Immediately, she knew him. And she said to him, “Teacher.”

Jesus gave her a message for her friends, for his disciples. And so she ran again, back to the place where her friends were gathered. And she said to them, “I have seen the Lord.”

What was it about that moment that opened her eyes? Was it something in his voice, some tenderness that Mary recognized? Or was it the sheer fact of having her name, her very own name, lovingly spoken by the Lord that made the truth known?

It seems to me that people need to be named. We want to be named. We need to be truly known. And not just in some generic way but named and known for who we really are. It seems to me the need to be named is part of what it means to be human.

But much of our political, religious and ethical speech is generic. We categorize and label. We speak of the Poor, the Homosexual, the Racial-Ethnic, the Uneducated, and the Illegal Alien. Some of that generic speech is done for the sake of convenience.

Some is done to distance ourselves from those we understand as being different. This is especially the case when talking about our enemies. By labeling them we dehumanize them and so make their marginalization or extermination easier on our collective conscience.
It is instructive to note that it was in being called by name that Mary’s eyes were opened. It was in being called by name that Mary recognized Jesus and caught a glimpse of the resurrection. When Jesus called her Mary, she was then able to call him by name.

As followers of the Risen One, we are called to name those around us rightly and tenderly—both inside and outside our congregational walls.

We cannot settle for the generic and the stereotypical. Such language serves no one well. It marginalizes. It prevents the forming of relationships. And it restricts our vision for what God is up to in the world.

Instead, let us practice right and loving naming:
She is not Poor. Her name is Judy.
He is not Homeless. His name is John.
She is not Disabled. Her name is Wanda.
He is not Damaged. His name is Phil.

They are not Others. They are Sisters and Brothers, Children of God, Human Beings longing to see the Risen One. And all that prevents them from seeing Jesus is the lack of someone calling them by their right names. May we be the ones to do just that.