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Doubt: When the Pain of Faith is Too Great (John 20:1-18)

During the French Revolution people were being executed every day. Three men were waiting for their death sentences to be carried out.[1] The first one was a priest. As he was brought to the guillotine, he was asked, “Do you have any last words?”  The priest said, “I believe God is going to save me.” He put his head underneath the blade, the blade came down, but then it stopped two inches from his neck. The executioner said, “This is a miracle,” and they let him go. The next man came up. Like the first, he was a priest. The executioner asked him, “Do you have any last words?” The second priest replied, “I believe God is going to save me.”  He put his head underneath the blade.  The blade came down, but then it stopped two inches from his neck.  They said, “This is a miracle,” and they let him go. The third man came up. He was a skeptic. He was a doubter.  The executioner asked him, “Do you have any last words?” Looking at the guillotine, he said, “Well, I think I see your problem.  There’s something jammed in the gear mechanism.”

Sometimes there’s something in us that just doesn’t believe.  Even when believing might save our life, sometimes we remain the skeptic and the doubter.  For three Sunday mornings at Highland we are exploring the struggle to believe.  In his book Faith and Doubt, John Ortberg confesses that three things often cause him to question God:[2]

1) The flawed product of Christianity—if Christianity can only produce flawed, faithless, and fearful people, is it really a worthwhile religion?

2) The lack of proof—sometimes there seems to be no tangible proof that God exists, that Jesus rose from the dead, or that faith is worth our effort.

3) The pain in life—suffering, tragedy, and disappointments often lead us to wonder if God is really there.  Doubts often arise because the pain of life is too great, the proof of faith is too little, or the people of faith are too flawed.

We’ve been exploring these three sources of doubt as they occur in three chapters of the Bible—John 19-21.  Two weeks ago we looked at the people in these three chapters and how their flaws, fearfulness, and faithlessness could lead an onlooker to have doubts about Christianity.  Last Sunday we walked with Thomas as he wrestled with the issue of proof.  This morning we spend our time with Mary.  Of the three sources of doubt, Mary’s is probably the worst.  It’s probably the source most of us connect with.  Mary struggled with the doubt that comes from pain.

Mary was called Magdalene because she was from Magdala, a city on the shore of the Sea of Galilee.[3] Luke tells us that Jesus cast seven demons out of Mary and that she was one of several women funding his ministry through their own financial resources.

Let’s walk with Mary on Easter morning: 1 Now on the first day of the week Mary Magdalene came to the tomb early, while it was still dark, and saw that the stone had been taken away from the tomb. 2So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” 3 So Peter went out with the other disciple, and they were going toward the tomb. 4Both of them were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. 5And stooping to look in, he saw the linen cloths lying there, but he did not go in. 6Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen cloths lying there, 7and the face cloth, which had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen cloths but folded up in a place by itself. 8Then the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; 9for as yet they did not understand the Scripture, that he must rise from the dead. 10Then the disciples went back to their homes.  11But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb, and as she wept she stooped to look into the tomb. (John 20:1-11 ESV)

Mary is one of the first to visit Jesus’ tomb.  Seeing the large stone pushed away from the entrance, Mary fears the worst.  She bolts back to where John and Peter are staying and cries out, They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him. Mary sees the empty tomb.  This morning, Christians around the world remember that scene, and they cheer.  Because the image of the empty tomb is the ultimate source of faith for Christians.  But for Mary, that same symbol was a source of despair.  Seeing the empty tomb, Mary can only fear the very worst: They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.

Mary follows Peter and John back to the tomb.  John reaches the tomb first and looks in.  Peter arrives and does more than look.  He enters the tomb.  Then John joins him inside.  Both of them see the cloths which had been wrapped around Jesus.  And the text says that when John saw this, he believed.  John sees the empty tomb with the grave clothes and he believes.  But not Mary.  She can only despair.  John tells us that Mary stands outside the tomb weeping.

Let’s continue: 12And she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and one at the feet. 13They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” (John 20:12-13 ESV).  Two angels are sitting on the bench where Jesus’ body had been.  The presence of angels testifies to the fact that the disappearance of Jesus’ body was been caused by divine, not human, action.[4] I don’t know about you, but if I saw two angels, I’d think God was up to something.  If I saw two angels, I’d start feeling hopeful.  But not Mary.  Mary sees these two angels.  But she still fears the worst.  For the second time we are told that Mary weeps.  And for the second time Mary moans: They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.

Let’s keep following Mary: 14Having said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing, but she did not know that it was Jesus. 15Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” (John 20:14-15 ESV)  First, God gives Mary a glimpse of the empty tomb.  Response?  Tears and fears.  Then, God gives Mary a glimpse of the angels.  Response?  Tears and fears.  Now, God puts Jesus himself in front of Mary.  This is the same Jesus who cast seven demons out of Mary.  This is the same Jesus whom Mary has financially supported.  God puts the resurrected Jesus in front of Mary.  Later in John, when God puts the resurrected Jesus in front of Thomas, the doubting Thomas becomes the believing Thomas.  In the book of Acts, the resurrected Jesus appears to a skeptic named Saul.  And the response?  Saul became a convert and the greatest preacher of Jesus in history.  God puts the resurrected Jesus right in front of Mary. The response?  Tears and fears.  For a third time we are told that Mary is weeping.  And for a third time Mary refers to someone taking the body of Jesus. Mary sees the empty tomb, she sees the angels, and she sees the resurrected Jesus.  To anyone else, these sights should have produced faith.  But for Mary they produced only tears and fears.

Why?  Here’s what I think: Mary’s spirituality is characterized by fearfulness and faithlessness because she lives in the pain of the first and second days. When I refer to the first and second days, I’m referring to Friday and Saturday.  Mary’s still living with the pain of Friday and Saturday.  She cannot get past the pain of that first day of Jesus’ death, the Friday he died on a cross.  And she cannot get past the pain of that second day of Jesus’ death, that Saturday when he was no longer with her.  That pain becomes the filter through which she sees everything.  Things that ought to bring joy and faith—an empty tomb, two angels, and the resurrected Jesus—bring only tears and fears.  Mary cannot see past the pain of the first and second days.

That is often the case for us.  Our spirituality may be characterized by fearfulness and faithlessness because we live in the pain of the first and second days.  We live in a world of first and second days.  We live in a world of tragedy and pain and disappointment.  We live in a world of Fridays and Saturdays.  Earthquakes.  Tsunamis.  Nuclear disasters.  And that’s just what can happen in one day.

This pain becomes a filter through we see everything.  Dostoyevsky, who was a believer, wrote that the “death of a single infant calls into question the existence of God.”[5] Just one death, just one tragedy, can color everything grey.  The pain of living in a world of the first and second days can fill us with fear and drain us of faith.  The pain of living in a world of Fridays and Saturdays can fill us with tears and fears.

Elie Wiesel tells of his first night in a concentration camp.  He saw a wagonload of babies unloaded and thrown into a ditch.  He wrote, “Never shall I forget … the first night in camp, which has turned my life into one long night, seven times cursed and seven times sealed…. Never shall I forget those moments that murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to dust. Never shall I forget these things, even if I am condemned to live as long as God Himself. Never.”[6]

The pain of first and second days murder our God and our souls and turn our dreams to dust.  They become the filter through which view everything.  And no matter how hopeful other things appear to be—an open tomb, two angels, even Jesus himself—we can’t seem to move beyond the pain.

But thankfully, something finally reached through Mary: 16Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher). 17Jesus said to her, “Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.'” 18Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”—and that he had said these things to her. (John 20:16-18 ESV).  The resurrected Jesus has already spoken to Mary.  She didn’t recognize him.  But now he speaks her name: “Mary.”  There’s something about being called by your name.  There’s something that catches our attention when someone singles us out by name, isn’t there?

Take a moment, turn to the person next to you, and do two things.  First, ask that person what his/her first name is, if you don’t know it.  Second, say to that person, “Bob, Jesus calls you by name.”

Jesus calls Mary by name.  How many times has Jesus called her by name?  Probably hundreds of times.  Perhaps as she hears her name again, all of those memories of all those times Jesus has called her by name come flooding back into her mind.  And suddenly she recognizes him.  Suddenly she breaks through the pain of the first and second day.

And apparently, she grabs on to him.  Jesus says, “Do not cling to me.”  Jesus was not rejecting her touch.  Prior to his death Jesus allowed Mary to anoint his feet with perfume. After his resurrection he encouraged Thomas to put his finger in the nail prints and his hand into the wound in his side. In Matthew when Jesus met Mary Magdalene and ‘the other Mary’, he did not discourage them when they ‘clasped his feet and worshipped him.’[7] When Jesus tells Mary to stop clinging to him he’s not rejecting her touch.  He’s simply saying, “Mary, we’ve got work to do. [8] You’ve got to go and tell the others that I’m alive.  I’d love to stay here and cherish this moment.  But you’ve got to go and tell the others what you have seen and why you now believe.”  Mary goes from weeping to working.  She goes doubting to believing.

Mary turns 180 degrees.  She sees now that it’s not Friday.  It’s not Saturday.  It’s Sunday.  It’s no longer a time of pain.  It’s a time of promise.  It’s no longer time to fear.  It’s a time to cheer.  Mary’s spirituality is now characterized by faithfulness and fearlessness because she lives in the promise of the third day

John Ortberg writes about the three-day stories in the Bible.[9] There are many stories in Scripture that take place over three days.  Ortberg comments, “When a hero named Joseph was in prison, he said to Pharaoh’s cupbearer, “Within three days Pharaoh will lift up your head and restore you to your position” (Genesis 40:13). When Israel was trapped in slavery, Moses asked Pharaoh, “Let us take a three-day journey into the desert” (Exodus 5:3). When the Israelites arrive at Sinai, God said, “Go to the people and consecrate them today and tomorrow…. And be ready the third day, because on that day the LORD will come down on Mount Sinai in the sight of all the people” (Exodus 19:10–11). When Israel was afraid to go into the Promised Land, God said to Israel, “Be strong and courageous…. Three days from now you will cross the Jordan here to go in and take possession of the land the LORD your God is giving you for your own” (Joshua 1:6, 11). When Israel was threatened with genocide, Queen Esther said that she would fast for three days then go to the king to seek deliverance for her people…The third day was used so frequently in this way that it became kind of a technical expression meaning a time to wait for deliverance. “Right now, things are messed up. Right now, hope is being crushed. Right now, hearts are disappointed. But a better day is coming.” In the book of Hosea, the prophet says it like this: “Come, let us return to the LORD…. After two days, he will revive us; on the third day he will restore us, that we may live in his presence” (Hosea 6:1–2)…The third day is God’s day. The third day is the day when prisoners of Pharaoh get set free. The third day is the day when the people come to the mountains and the mountains shake and rivers are parted and people go into the Promised Land. The third day is the day when harem girls like Esther face down powerful kings. The third day is the day when prophets like Jonah are dropped off at seaside ports by giant fish. The third day is the day when idols like Dagon come tumbling down and God starts coming home to his people. The third day is the day stones are rolled away. The third day is the day a crucified carpenter came back to life. You never know what God is going to do, because God is “God of the third day.”

And when we realize this, it changes everything.  Our spirituality can be characterized by faithfulness and fearlessness because we live in the promise of the third day.  While we sometimes live in a world of the first and second days, we live with a God of the third-day.  God is a third-day God.  Say that out loud with me: God is a third-day God.  And because of this, we can believe.  The pain of the first and second days does not have to extinguish the flames of belief.  We can be filled with faith and drained of fear because we live with the comforting promise that God is a third-day God.

This doesn’t mean that the third-day always comes when we want it to come.  Sometimes we have to endure years of first and second days.  Sometimes the Fridays and Saturdays linger.  But eventually, that third day comes.  It always comes.  Because God is a third-day God.  Eventually God takes all those first and second days and turns them into third-days.

Sometimes that third-day comes just when we need it to.  Last fall Highland member Faye Adkins was diagnosed with cancer.  She had previously been diagnosed with cancer.  She beat that one.  But then it came back.  And Faye was catapulted back to a first and second kind of day.  Her life rewound to that first bout with cancer and the pain of its Fridays and Saturdays.  But in spite of her pain, Faye believed.  She didn’t fear.  She cheered.  Because she believed in a third-day God.  And within months, her third-day arrived.  On March 28, she was declared cancer free.  Here’s her story: [VIDEO of Faye] Faye was able to face her second bout with Fridays and Saturdays because she believed in the God of Sunday.  And that made all the difference in the world.

Two atheists were going door-to-door.  Like door-knocking Christians, the two atheists were trying to introduce people to their beliefs.  At one home, they rang the doorbell.  A man answered and opened the door.  The two atheists handed him a pamphlet.  The homeowner looked at it.  “This pamphlet is blank,” he said.  The two atheists explained, “Well, we’re atheists.” If there is no God, there is no story. There is nothing to write.[10] If the first and second day is all there is, there is no story.  The pamphlet is blank.  We may as well be atheists.  There’s nothing and no one to believe in.  But God is not a first and second day-God.  He’s a third-day God.  Ours is a God who is not content to leave the calendar on Friday or Saturday.  He’s the one who always turns it to Sunday.  And that’s a story that makes all the difference in the world.

Sermonette for Sunrise Service

Mary is one of the first to visit Jesus’ tomb that first resurrection Sunday.  Seeing the large stone pushed away from the entrance of Jesus’ tomb, Mary fears the worst.  She bolts back to where John and Peter are staying and cries out, They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him. Mary sees the empty tomb.  This morning, Christians around the world remember that scene, and they cheer.  Because the image of the empty tomb is the ultimate source of faith for Christians.  But not for Mary.  Seeing the empty tomb, Mary can only fear the very worst: They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.

Mary follows Peter and John back to the tomb.  John reaches the tomb first and looks in.  Peter arrives and does more than look.  He enters the tomb.  Then John joins him inside.  Both of them see the cloths which had been wrapped around Jesus.  And the text says that when John saw this, he believed.  John sees the empty tomb with the grave clothes and he believes.  But not Mary.  John tells us that Mary stands outside the tomb weeping.

Two angels are sitting on the bench where Jesus’ body had been.  The presence of angels at the tomb testifies to the fact that the disappearance of Jesus’ body was caused by divine, not human, action.[11] If I suddenly saw two angels, I’d start feeling hopeful.  But not Mary.  Mary sees these two angels.  But she still fears the worst.  For the second time we are told that Mary is weeping.  And for the second time Mary moans: They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.

God gives Mary a glimpse of the empty tomb.  Response?  Tears and fears.  Then, God gives Mary a glimpse of the angels.  Response?  Tears and fears: Now, God puts Jesus himself right in front of Mary.  God puts the resurrected Jesus right in front of Mary. The response?  Tears and fears.  For a third time we are told that Mary is weeping.  And for a third time Mary refers to someone taking the body of Jesus. Mary sees the empty tomb, she sees the angels, and she sees the resurrected Jesus.  But all she gives are tears an d fears.

Why?  Here’s what I think: Mary’s spirituality is characterized by fearfulness and faithlessness because she lives in the pain of the first and second days. When I refer to the first and second days, I’m referring to Friday and Saturday.  Mary’s still living with the pain of Friday and Saturday.  She cannot get past the pain of that first day of Jesus’ death, the Friday he died on a cross.  Sshe cannot get past the pain of that second day of Jesus’ death, that Saturday in which he was no longer with her.  And that pain becomes the filter through which she sees everything.  Things that ought to bring joy and faith—an empty tomb, two angels, and the resurrected Jesus—do not.  Why?  Because Mary cannot see past the pain of the first and second days.

That is often the case for us.  In many ways, we live in a world of first and second days.  We live in a world of Fridays and Saturdays.  Earthquakes.  Tsunamis.  Nuclear disasters.  And that’s just what can happen in one day.

And this pain becomes a filter through which we see everything.  Dostoyevsky, who was a believer, wrote that the “death of a single infant calls into question the existence of God.”[12] Just one death, just one tragedy, can color everything else.

But something finally reaches through Mary’s pain.  The resurrected Jesus calls Mary by name.  There’s something about being called by your name.  There’s something that catches our attention when someone singles us out by name, isn’t there?  Jesus calls Mary by name.  How many times has Jesus called her by name?  Probably hundreds of times.  Perhaps as she hears her name yet again, all of those memories of all those times when Jesus called by name come flooding back into her mind.  And suddenly she recognizes him.  Suddenly she breaks through the pain of the first and second day.  She sees now that it’s not Friday.  It’s not Saturday.  It’s Sunday.  It’s no longer a time of pain.  It’s a time of promise.  Mary’s spirituality is now characterized by faithfulness and fearlessness because she lives in the promise of the third day.

John Ortberg writes about the three-day stories in the Bible.[13] There are many stories in Scripture that take place over three days.  Ortberg comments, “The third day is God’s day. The third day is the day when prisoners of Pharaoh get set free. The third day is the day when the people come to the mountains and the mountains shake and rivers are parted and people go into the Promised Land. The third day is the day when harem girls like Esther face down powerful kings. The third day is the day when prophets like Jonah are dropped off at seaside ports by giant fish. The third day is the day when idols like Dagon come tumbling down and God starts coming home to his people. The third day is the day stones are rolled away. The third day is the day a crucified carpenter came back to life. You never know what God is going to do, because God is “God of the third day.”

While we sometimes live in a world of the first and second days, we live with a God of the third-day.  God is a third-day God.  Say that out loud with me: God is a third-day God.  And because of this, we can believe.  The pain of the first and second days does not have to extinguish the flames of belief.  We can be filled with faith and drained of fear because we live with the comforting promise that God is a third-day God


[1] John Ortberg, Faith and Doubt Kindle: 1849.

[2] John Ortberg, Faith and Doubt (Zondervan, 2008), Kindle edition, location 1528-1534.

[3] Crossway Bibles. (2008). The ESV Study Bible (1967). Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles.

[4] Kruse, C. G. (2003). Vol. 4: John: An introduction and commentary. Tyndale New Testament Commentaries (371). Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press.

[5] Ortberg, Kindle:202.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Kruse, C. G. (2003). Vol. 4: John: An introduction and commentary. Tyndale New Testament Commentaries (372–373). Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press.

[8] Kruse, C. G. (2003). Vol. 4: John: An introduction and commentary. Tyndale New Testament Commentaries (372–373). Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press.

[9] Ortberg, Kindle: 1340.

[10] Ortberg, Kindle: 1740.

[11] Kruse, C. G. (2003). Vol. 4: John: An introduction and commentary. Tyndale New Testament Commentaries (371). Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press.

[12] Ortberg, Kindle:202.

[13] Ortberg, Kindle: 1340.