Massive Void -- FPC sermon excerpt

Astronomers have found an enormous empty place in the universe. A massive void.

This hole is gigantic, nearly a billion light-years across. Inside it there are no planets, no stars, no galaxies, no gases. It’s just a huge cold spot.

A whole lotta nothing.

I’ve always enjoyed looking up at the stars, an interest I inherited from my father, a NASA scientist. And it has always stretched and even boggled my mind to think of the incredible distances between stars in the sky. You might be aware that a light-year is a unit of distance — it’s the distance that light can travel in one year. One light-year equals about 6 trillion miles. Quite a distance.

So how far away are the stars in the sky? Our nearest neighbor is a star called Proxima Centauri. It’s about four light-years away. 25 trillion miles.

And how about that massive void, that huge cold spot in the sky? It’s between six and 10 billion light-years away from us, and it is nearly a billion light-years across. My tiny head cannot even begin to comprehend a hole that gigantic. It’s been described as a big bubble in the cosmic pancake batter.

A massive void. No planets, no stars, no galaxies, no gasses. Absolutely nothing.

On Easter morning, Mary Magdalene encountered a massive void when she arrived at the tomb, one that was as mind-boggling as anything at the edge of the universe. John tells us that it was still dark when she arrived and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb, “so she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said, ‘They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him!’” (John 20:2).

Can you imagine how empty Mary is feeling at this point? She has already suffered the crucifixion of her friend and teacher Jesus, and is mourning his death deeply. Now she goes to his tomb to pay her respects, and what does she find? Nothing. A huge cold spot.

She makes the logical assumption that his body has been stolen, and reports this crime to Simon Peter and another disciple. The two men run to the tomb, and the second disciple outruns Peter, reaches the tomb, bends down to look in — he sees nothing but “the linen wrappings lying there” (v. 5). Then Peter arrives and barges into the tomb, spotting the linen wrappings and also “the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself” (v. 7).

The evidence before them is not consistent with a grave robbery, since robbers would have taken the wrappings along with the body. But the disciples cannot imagine that Jesus has been raised — John tells us that “they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead” (v. 9). So they head home, feeling empty.

We know what this feels like, don’t we? Each of us, at some time in life, comes face to face with a massive void.

- It happens when you give your heart to someone, and they don’t accept the gift.
- It happens when you learn a sport, practice hard, and still don’t make the team.
- It happens when you study and pursue a profession, only to find you hate your work.
- It happens when you create something beautiful, and discover that no one’s interested.
- It happens when you try to resist a temptation, but mess up again and again.
- It happens when you jump to a new job, then lose it in a downsizing.
- It happens when you put money into a home, only to see your equity disappear.
- It happens when you retire from a long career, and wake up with nothing to do.
- It happens when you lose a spouse to cancer, and find yourself all alone in the world.

These are huge cold spots. Massive voids.

Feeling empty, Mary does what any of us would do — she stands weeping outside the tomb (v. 11). Her world feels like a billion light-years of empty space. But it is to Mary’s credit that she takes the time to grieve. Because Mary has stayed beside the tomb, instead of rushing home like the two men, she puts herself in a position to discover something truly amazing.