God goes ahead of us even to the point of death to roll away those stones that are blocking us from life.
As kids we quickly learned that there were two basic types of situations we might find ourselves in at any time. There were the "me-first!" situations. If we had lots of brothers and sisters to contend with, of course, sibling rank usually determined which "me" actually got to be "first." "Me first" was a screech we learned to utter when ice cream was brought out, the pony rides came into view, someone was being chosen to sit up front, or it was time to tell a story.
We screamed "me first" because we wanted the best selection, the biggest piece, the rarest color, and because we wanted to be the focus of attention, center-stage, the envy of all who had to wait a turn. Winning the "me-first" competition made us feel special, made us feel, just for a moment, like the most important person in the world.
But kids also quickly learn that there are some situations where you definitely don't want to be first. These are known as "you-go-ahead" situations. Part of perfecting your response in a "you-go-ahead" scenario depended on a careful delivery of that crucial line. Say it too quickly, too loudly or too enthusiastically and you all but guaranteed that it would become an unwanted "me-first" experience. "You go ahead" had to be voiced with just the right amount of hesitation and a hint of subservience.
"You go ahead" was the mantra you used to avoid the last helping of creamed spinach, to let someone else determine the lake temperature at camp, gradually to work your way backward through the lineup to get a shot, or to let your chemistry lab partner determine how bad that stuff really smelled.
We said, "you go ahead" because we didn't want to take a risk, look foolish, suffer pain, show our fear, or experience the unknown. When we succeeded in getting someone else to "go ahead," we could watch their reactions and then mentally and physically prepare ourselves when it eventually was our turn. Even though sometimes there was really nothing to be gained by letting someone else "go ahead," you somehow felt safer just knowing that someone else had gone before you.
On Easter morning, we are supposed to feel joy, wonder, triumph, exaltation. The women in Mark's gospel today enter the opened tomb expecting to find the dead body of their teacher Jesus. Instead, they find an angelic messenger who reveals to them, "He has been raised; he is not here." Hallelujah, Christ is Risen!
But if we are really honest about the feeling this empty tomb brings, we had better include feelings of relief, of safety and of tremendous reassurance. The good news of Easter morning is that we are a people who have looked around at the sinfulness and shortcomings in our own lives, who have looked ahead to the finality of death and judgment, who have then cautiously sidled up to Jesus, poked him in the side and said, "You go ahead!"
And he did!
Not only "he did!" but Jesus went so far as to exclaim "me first" and practically pushed his way to the front of the line, through the Jerusalem city gates, into the fracas at the temple, and onto the cross at Golgotha. Jesus willingly "went ahead" of us to experience the suffering and death that were really supposed to be part of our turn. This morning we exalt in the victory Christ achieved over death, but we also feel the safety and security that come from watching someone else, God's Son, "go ahead."
The angelic messenger in Mark's gospel offers us even more reassurance by proclaiming that this Jesus who willingly "went ahead" of us, even onto the cross and into the tomb, continues to "go ahead" of us every day of our lives. In Mark's text, the risen Christ "is going ahead of you to Galilee" (v.7). Galilee was the site of the disciples' first witness and mission. But for Jesus' disciples, going to Galilee was also going home. The risen Lord goes before all his disciples, both when they are preaching the gospel news to the world and when they are attempting to live the Good News at home.
We have always had a "go-ahead God."
When Moses led the people away from Pharaoh and into the wilderness, the Lord went ahead of them as a pillar of fire by night and smoke by day.
When the Israelites were struggling to establish their foothold in the land of Canaan, the ark of the covenant, God's presence in their midst, would always go ahead of them into battle.
When the psalmists and poets of Israel described God's ever-guiding presence, they sang of the "mighty arm of God" that went ahead of God's people.
When God wanted to speak to the people, a divinely called prophet was sent ahead with words of warning and comfort for all Israel.
When the political entity of Israel finally fell, God went ahead of the people into exile.
When the women who had witnessed Jesus' death and burial went to anoint his body with spices, God went ahead of them to roll away the stone from in front of the now empty tomb.
God has been ahead of us every step along the way since our creation. The Easter moment celebrates the greatest "go-ahead" dare ever taken Jesus Christ, God made incarnate, willingly "goes ahead" of us into the future, even to suffering and death.
If God goes ahead of us into pain and suffering, torture and death, then how can we doubt God will be there ahead of us wherever life may take us? Just as he was "going ahead" of the disciples into Galilee, the risen Christ will "go ahead" of us into a new classroom.
He will "go ahead" of us into a new family.
He will "go ahead" of us into a new career.
Christians can dare to call out "me first" no matter how scary a new situation might appear. The church, as the body of Christ, always dares to offer itself first for the sake of others. We can boldly call out "me first" wherever we may find ourselves because our Easter secret is that there is no place we can go, no dare we can take, no limb we can crawl out on, where we won't find that God has already "gone ahead."