Finistere is the district of the northwest tip of Brittany, France. The name comes from the words ‘fini’ meaning ‘end’, and terre, ‘earth’ and means ‘the end of the earth’. It might well seem the end of the earth, jutting out from the mainland, lashed by furious freak storms unleashed in the Bay of Biscay from the west. Off in the distance, exposed and vulnerable on the Island of Ushant, is the La Jument lighthouse. Its purpose was to save crews by illuminating the treacherous rocky outcrops and help them navigate safely to shore.
The lighthouse is famous for featuring in one of the worlds most reproduced images, by photographer Jean Guichard [Gishar] in 1989. It was an end of an era, when all the lighthouses in the region were about to be automated, and Jean Guichard wanted to preserve history by capturing images of lighthouse keepers. So he was flown by helicopter to photograph aerial views. Theodore Malgorn was the lighthouse keeper on duty that day, who you can see on the platform. He heard the helicopter approaching and, curious, had stepped outside to take a look. He was oblivious to the monster wave and impending danger just seconds away.
Popular belief was that Theodore was swept away and perished just seconds after this photograph was taken. But Theodore did not perish. Instinct kicked in and he jumped backwards right through the door as the wave swept past.
A lighthouse is of no use to anyone in the middle of a well-lit city, or in some safe, sheltered place. To save people it has to be out where it is dark and dangerous – on a lonely headland, treacherous conditions, exposed and vulnerable taking the full brunt of the storms. The lighthouse of La Jument was a beacon. The bright light it shone forth saved many a crew from the raging storms and fatal hazards offshore. The lighthouse even saved the keeper, proving to be a refuge.
But Malgorn’s refuge was ultimately Christ. In an interview about his experience, it was heartening to see a crucifix in the main room of the house.
Throughout Holy Week, our bible readings have taken us through the theme “From darkness to light.” We began in the darkness of night on Maundy Thursday, eating the new Passover Jesus had first instituted for his disciples 2,000 years ago. This was the night that he was betrayed by one who ate with him, and soldiers bearing lanterns and torches arrested Jesus and put God on trial—something we humans are pretty good at. Things got a whole lot darker on Good Friday. The darkness of sinful, fickle human hearts was on full display as the crowds screamed for
Jesus to be crucified and an insurrectionist, Barabbas, to be released. As Jesus died on the Cross, darkness covered the whole land even though it was mid-afternoon.
It was still dark, early on Sunday morning, when Mary Magdalene went to the tomb where the body of Jesus had been laid. She saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance, and thinking that someone had taken the body of the Lord away, she ran to Simon Peter and the other disciple (thought to be John). With specific detail, John tells us of the resultant footrace to the tomb: John outran Peter and reached it first. He bent down to see the strips of linen that Jesus’ body had been wrapped in, lying there, before Simon Peter came behind him, and went straight into the tomb. He saw the strips of linen too, as well as the cloth that had been wrapped around Jesus’ head. The cloth was still lying in its place, separate from the linen. Finally John, who had reached the tomb first, also went inside. He saw and believed.
The disciples head off. I’ve always wondered about that. Why didn’t they stay and comfort Mary? She stood outside the tomb crying. She is still enveloped by the darkness of grief. With tears running down her cheeks, she bent over to look into the tomb and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot. They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?” “They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.”
At this, Mary turns to see Jesus standing there. Her mind is blanketed with the darkness of confusion. She sees Jesus, but does not perceive it to be him: “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.” She thinks Jesus still to be dead, merely now a corpse; the darkness of Good Friday to be lingering, and permanent: “Tell me where you have put him and I will get him.”
Though the disciples have left Mary, Jesus has not. He stays with Mary, to comfort her. It is only when Jesus calls Mary by her name that the light dawns for Mary—the light of Jesus’ resurrection flooded into her heart and mind. She recognises who it is, and realises what has happened—the grave is empty because Jesus has risen from the dead! What Jesus had done for the world he had done for her, and this is shown with the use of her name. It is when Jesus calls Mary that she knows.
We need God to first come to us and enlighten us too. Like Mary we too are naturally incapable of seeing Jesus as the risen Saviour and understanding the things of God. It is not just the darkness of early morning we contend with—in our natural condition, sin has caused us to have spiritually darkened hearts and minds.
That’s precisely why Jesus was born as the light of the world in the darkness—to be the Saviour of the world. It is why Jesus went to the Good Friday Cross, to be lifted up in the darkness, taking the full brunt of the storm of sin, death, Satan and hell for us. It is from the Cross that the powerful light of his love shines out most brightly, piercing through the darkness of sin and evil and death.
But a dead Jesus, as Mary first feared, would be no Saviour at all—which is why the message of this Easter day—resurrection day—is all the more glorious: Jesus is risen! He is alive! The light of Christ still shines in the darkness, flooding out of the open tomb. This is what was proclaimed very dramatically this morning, as the lit paschal candle was brought into the dark church. It symbolises that the Father’s gift of his own Son—the light of God, the true light of the world—has brought victory over darkness, life over death, and order over chaos: all blessings flowing from Christ’s triumphant resurrection.
Now that Christ is risen not even death itself can separate us from the love of God. Time and death cannot keep God’s love or the risen Jesus separate from you. In Jesus, God came to earth to be with us where it is darkest and most dangerous, and he still comes, into your world, into your life.
He comes in the darkness of COVID and cancer, in the darkness of frailty and grief, in the darkness of financial collapse and fear for the future, in the darkness of drug abuse and homelessness, in the darkness of prejudice and intolerance, in the darkness of violence and destruction, in the darkness of poverty and oppression, the darkness of world wars and social media bullying, and the darkness of natural disasters in a world in which creation is in bondage to decay.
He comes in the darkness that overshadows and threatens to extinguish the light of the church—but cannot. For he, the risen Lord, is victorious over all. He is our light and our salvation, and not even the gates of hell will prevail. The risen Jesus continues to build his church, by revealing himself to people, as he did to Mary, and as he has for you. For God came to you in your baptism and called you by name. He who said, “Let there be light in the darkness,” has made this light shine in our hearts so we could know the glory of God that is seen in the face of Jesus Christ.
May you live not in the gloom of defeat, but in the radiant light of Christ’s resurrection victory. Joined to the crucified, risen Jesus in baptism you share in Jesus’ own death and resurrection, to live in his light and life and be changed by it, so that we might daily put to death our old selves, and day after day a new self arise, to live with God in righteousness and purity forever. Because, despite all the perils and terrors of the darkness which assail the church, the greatest danger to the church is always from within. The great temptation for us is to accept the Easter gospel in our minds, but do little about a heart-felt resurrected life, lived out for others in the world. Most of us say we believe
Christ rose from the dead, but do our hearts hold fast to the truth of Easter being a daily reality shown by the changed lives of God’s people?
Is ours a religion without repentance? May it never be! For Jesus has overcome the darkness in our life, the storm of sin and evil, and the tumult of everything that Satan throws our way. The world needs us, God’s resurrected Easter people to go and show them, and tell them about the risen Christ too—the majority of whom don’t know about Good Friday and Easter Sunday, and live as if it had never happened.
May you also know Jesus like Mary on the morning of the resurrection, not only with your heads, but your hearts also; hearts he has resurrected by the power of his call and illumined by the light of his word. As you look for Jesus, like Mary on the morning of his resurrection, the risen Lord will not leave you. He will stay beside you forever, and will bring you through the darkness—even the darkness of death on your final day in this life.
On the day he comes again to judge the living and the dead, Christ will take you and lead you into light everlasting. There will never be darkness there, for the light of the glory of the crucified, risen and ascended lord will fill heaven, and as you gather around his throne, singing alleluias without end, your faces will be radiant, reflecting his brilliant glory forever and ever. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Amen.
