1 Corinthians 15: 1-11         

John 20: 1-18         

Easter, March 31, 2024

Rev. Dr. Galen E. Russell III

Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!”

Prayer: O holy, life-giving God, will you please bless us with your Easter power, so that we may hear and see your great work of making all things new, of bringing life from death. In the name of the risen Christ we pray, Amen.

Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed!

That’s wonderful news we proclaim! That news has spread throughout the world today at the speed of light. Because we live in the “instantaneous news” era, with the help of technology like AI and voice recognition software.



AI is big stuff these days. But, voice recognition software has been around a long time. Lots of us use it regularly to dictate our text messages. Some of use it to activate Siri. Or Alexa. Which can be amusing at times. Try this at home; Ask “Siri, do you believe in God?” Siri: “My policy is the separation of spirit and silicon.” “Siri, do you have a boyfriend?” Siri; “There once was a Roomba that followed me around everywhere.”

If you’re like me, you might use Google and Alexa. I had to record my voice 3 times giving Alexa a digital rendering of my voice. And our voices are as unique as our fingerprints. So, I went over to my Echo and asked, “Alexa, who am I?” Alexa said, “I think you’re Galen. This is Galen’s account.” Oddly enough—there was something strange, but kind of sweetly satisfying—Alexa knew who I was.

Of course, on the first Easter, there was no such thing as AI or Siri or Alexa. But, there was voice recognition. And it happened when Mary, maybe at the lowest point in her entire life, heard Jesus’ voice. I mean it’s hard to imagine her personal trauma. But I’ll hazard a guess and say she was pretty distraught. Bewildered. Sorrowful. Angry. Frustrated. Because first, the dominant power arrests Jesus and tears him away from Mary and her friends, the disciples. Then they torture, abuse, and violate him. Then they crucify and kill him. And now this! The tomb’s empty! Maybe she was like, “Haven’t you done enough? You already killed him. Now you’ve gone and taken him! Why can’t you just leave us alone and let us bury our dead!?!”

And in that lowest moment, that deepest despair, the risen Jesus speaks to Mary. At first, she doesn’t recognize his voice. She assumes it’s the gardener talking to her.

And I get that. It’s understandable. Because in our lowest moments, when things are really bad, our viewpoints can easily get distorted. We sometimes hear and see things only the way we expect them to be. We sometimes resign ourselves to the permanency of our conditions. We think our problems will last. Our illnesses and diseases will never go away. I’ve talked to so many people over the years who absolutely believe that a busted relationship with a family member that happened years ago is totally permanent.

But it absolutely doesn’t have to be. Because God is in the business of resurrection and restoration. God can bring new life out of the lowest despairing moments. After all, God brought the Israelites out of the despair and bondage of Egypt, and their new reality began in the Promised land. God saw David, a lowly runt shepherd boy and made him Israel’s greatest king. God brought Jonah out from the proverbial belly of the great fish, and he preached the word of God that changed a wayward people. God saw the worst persecutor of the church named Saul and made him into the church’s greatest apostle named Paul.

So, thank God that Jesus sees Mary, calls her by name at her lowest point, and transformed her life. She becomes the first apostle to spread the news that Jesus is risen. The risen Christ was ready to open a whole new future for her.

And that’s when she recognized his voice. She turned and called him by his informal, intimate name, “Rabbouni.” She acknowledged him. He was alive to her!

Do you remember when protesters chanted “Say her name,” to President Biden before and during the State of Union speech? And when the President did say “Laken Riley,” it was a way of acknowledging Laken. Acknowledging the life and death of a real person.

So, when Mary heard her name, she recognized Jesus. She acknowledged him. She turned and her heart and soul were awakened. She turned away from living in the old life of despair. She turned toward a new life of following Christ. She actually didn’t need that old life anymore. It was now obsolete. The risen Christ invited her to participate in this new future. And that was, I think the beginning of her personal resurrection.

See that’s the crazy thing about Easter… even the entire Christian faith. Resurrection can’t be confined to one definition. The Holy Spirit will move where it will. It is unconfined to human ideas. Who knows what actually happened on thar first Easter? But, that isn’t important.

What is important is that the Easter story is our story. It’s about our personal resurrections.

So just as Mary recognized Jesus’ voice in the lowest of her lows, which began a new reality for her, God is calling our names, all the time, even in the lowest of our lows. And in the highest of our highs. Calling us to a new life. Calling us to turn away from an old life that is now obsolete. Calling us to participate in a new reality.

In her recognition of Jesus’ voice, the new perspective was taking hold. Mary’s hope was resurrected. Hope that God was making all things new, as Jesus promised. Hope that her old life was over and done. Her new life had begun.

Our hope can be resurrected, too, on this glorious day. Hope that death never has the last word. Hope that in recognizing Jesus’ voice, there is something strangely, yet sweetly satisfying about that. Hope that, through our living out this new life, others in our families, our community of friends, our church acquaintances, our networks of relationships, others in our culture will recognize God calling their names, too. And their hope can be resurrected. Their lives can be refreshed, and the old life will be obsolete.

Activist and preacher William Barber, II learned how to be an Easter Christian in his teenage years by watching his grandmother. Every Sunday afternoon after church, his grandmother would visit someone who was ill and suffering, “We’ll be back shortly,” she would tell all the family. “We’ve got to go and hope somebody.”

For a long time, young William thought his grandmother, in her North Carolina accent, was mispronouncing the word “help,” and that what she meant to say was that she was going out to “help somebody.” Gradually, though, he realized that she meant just what she said. In a time of suffering, she was going to hurting people, people who were despised by the white society around them, downtrodden by the forces of poverty, and in the name of the risen Christ she was “hoping” them, bearing witness to the Lord who can make life come out of death. Who can renew hope even in the most hopeless of circumstances. Who can call each of us and raise us from the dead graves we might find ourselves in from time to time (Long, Tom, “The Shock of Easter,” Journal for Preachers, Easter, 2024, vol. XLVII, No. 3, p. 12).

That’s the faith we proclaim today. Because each of us can know the hope that comes with Christ’s new life alive within us.

That’s the faith we share today. Because we can recognize God’s voice calling us. God knows us. And knows who we are.

That’s the faith we live today. That’s the faith everyone of us can live. And it needs to spread like wildfire. In our families. In our church. In our community. In our culture. Our culture has to change for the better. And we are the ones to do it.

Because Christ is risen. Because he is risen in me. Christ is risen in you. And we can live. A whole new future begins. Thanks be to God! Amen.