Sarah Jakes Roberts - Breaking News

So my topic for today is breaking news, breaking news. In the text, we find Mary, who was following Jesus—Mary Magdalene, not the mother of Mary. This Mary had an encounter with Jesus in which He exercised seven demons that were possessing her. After her encounter with Jesus, she became so devout after being delivered from those seven demons that she dropped everything and began following Him. She recognized that there was a Divine call on His life and that, because He had touched her, there was a Divine call on her life as well.

So she dropped it all and began following Christ. She knew that as the Jews and the Romans began to wage war against Him, because He was Christ, the Son of God, eventually He would rise up and prove to the Romans and the Jews that they had it all mixed up and that He was indeed the Son of God and wasn’t just pretending. She was waiting for the moment when Christ would be vindicated. However, when we find her in the text, He has been crucified.

Imagine, if you will, that you are riding and dying with somebody—ride or die. Mary was Jesus’s ride or die, and she followed Him all the way to the Cross, anticipating that at some point He would come down from the Cross. What do you do when you are expecting one thing to happen but it never comes to fruition? What do you do when, as a matter of fact, it looks like the thing you were hoping for is actually dying right in front of your face?

That’s where we find Mary in the text. Not only has Christ been crucified, but He has been placed in a tomb, and this is three days after the crucifixion. Three days—and a lot can happen in three days. Certainly, we know the end of the story: He is resurrected. But remove, if you will, your knowledge, and imagine yourself as Mary—not just with breaking news, as in current events, but with the kind of news that breaks you.

Have you ever received the kind of news that chips away at your hope, that chips away at your soul, that leaves you a little bit broken? Yes, breaking news comes to us all, and then in that breaking, we can’t help but have parts of ourselves broken as well. We see it all the time on our phones when a CNN alert goes off, and we recognize that what was supposed to be a normal day for someone, somewhere on the other side of the world—or perhaps right around the corner—just became devastating news that breaks you.

Now, on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb early, while it was still dark, and saw that the stone had been taken away from the tomb. Then she ran and came to Simon Peter and to the other disciple, whom Jesus loved, and said to them, «They have taken away the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid Him.» Would you go back to verse one? I want to point out something that I found pretty interesting in the text.

So Mary is headed to the tomb because in Jewish culture, when someone passes away, you go and take oils and spices to anoint the body. She knew there would be a stone in front of the tomb. When she got there and noticed that the stone had been taken away, she was shocked. I bet at this point, Mary had come to a place where she was beginning to expect rejection. You see, until that point, she was expecting hope; she expected that Jesus would come off the cross. She expected that He would be vindicated. At this point, He has been crucified, buried, and placed in the tomb, and now she’s wondering what she should expect.

The reality is that she was going to the tomb, hoping that the stone would have been rolled away, although she knew she couldn’t roll it away herself. History tells us that the stone placed in front of the tomb was about 2,000 pounds. Have you ever found yourself walking up to an opportunity and going toward a door, if you will, but in the back of your mind, hoping that the door really wouldn’t be open? You know you’re going to go through all of the motions: you’re going to go to the audition, fill out the application, and go on the date. But ultimately, when it’s time to be vulnerable, when it’s time to train, when it’s time to become better, you were hoping the door would be closed because an open door also opens you up to your own insecurities.

Now the door is open to the tomb, but does she really have what it takes to walk inside? The stone has been rolled away; that’s what she wanted. But does she really have what it takes now to go inside the tomb? We pray that God would open doors for us, that He would roll things out of the way, that He would allow a path for us to escape. And then, when it’s time to take that escape, it’s not always packaged the way we thought, because for Mary, who wanted the stone to be rolled away, she didn’t realize that she wouldn’t be able to put oil on the body because the body wouldn’t be there.

What do you do when you are expecting things to go one way, and they do go that way to a certain extent? But then, when it’s time to take that final step, to go that extra mile, there’s nothing there to work with. The stone has been taken away from the tomb, so she runs to Simon Peter and tells them, «They’ve taken away the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have laid Him.» Peter, therefore, went out with the other disciple, and they were going to the tomb. So they both ran together, and the other disciple outran Peter. Why? It’s always a race with some people. We can’t both be at the red light; you’ve got to inch up a little bit closer.

John came to the tomb first. You know what I bet slowed Peter down on his way to the tomb? Before Christ died, He told Peter that he was going to deny Him three times. So while they both left at the same time, I bet somewhere along the line, Peter began to realize that if Jesus was there and Mary had somehow missed Him, then he would have to answer for the fact that he had denied Him three times. Isn’t it crazy how sometimes our past keeps us from walking into the future? We recognize that we may have to answer some questions when we get there that we’ve learned to bury and hide.

Okay, I’m coming. So John gets there, and he’s stooping down and looking in. He saw the linen cloths lying there, yet he did not go in. John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, stoops down and looks into the tomb but doesn’t go in. Immediately when he recognizes that the tomb is empty, his hope, his faith, then fails. You would think because he was the disciple whom Jesus loved that when he saw the tomb was empty, something inside of him would rise up and say, «This is the moment! Maybe now He’s been resurrected! This is exactly what we were waiting for.» But instead, he is flooded with disappointment.

I want to talk about the difference between love and faith. I can love you, but I can’t leave you. I can love you; love means that I accept you for who you are. But faith means I also think you can become better. So, yes, he was the disciple whom Jesus loved. But did John have enough love to have faith in God? So much so that even faith would dictate that even when my circumstances don’t look like they’re working out for my good, because I have faith in Him, I don’t believe that just because the body isn’t there means he’s not here anymore. Surely he’s gone somewhere.

Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb, and he saw the linen cloth lying there and the handkerchief that had been around His head—not lying with the linen cloths but folded together in a place by itself. How is it that all of the linen cloths were just jumbled up in one part of the tomb, but there was one linen cloth that was folded neatly by itself? I submit to you two questions: Why was it folded by itself, and why was Peter the one who saw it?

I reckon that the reason it was folded was that He wanted someone to recognize that even though it looked like He had been taken away, He took the time to fold something before He left. That even though it looks like your life is crumbling into pieces and that it’s all falling apart, He’s left something folded for you to remind you that He’s still there. It’s interesting because transition often looks like chaos; it often looks like confusion. It doesn’t always make sense. It seems like everything is falling apart.

So you’ve got Mary and John, who believe that the body has been taken away, that there’s nowhere for their faith to go. Yet you have Peter, the one who denied Christ three times—the one who was least likely to see Christ again—the one who thought for sure that because of what he had done, because of what he had gone through, he had no use to Jesus. Why is Peter the one who sees the folded handkerchief? Perhaps when Peter denied Christ three times, he found himself in a situation he never expected. Have you ever been surprised at something you did, but you did it? Have you ever looked back on something and thought, «Man, I was tripping; I surprised myself with that»? Peter could not believe that he was going to deny Christ three times. He couldn’t believe it.

But I mean, can you argue with Jesus? Jesus says you’re going to deny Him three times; you think it impossible. And then life happens. Life often places us in unexpected situations and turns us into people we never thought we could be. How we deal with those moments is our true test of character. It’s not about the disciple whom Jesus loved the most; this story is about Peter—the one who denied Him three times, the one who probably wanted to exclude himself from destiny—being told that in spite of the fact that he denied Christ three times, he was still going to build his church on top of him. That even though his life hadn’t been perfect and even though he had messed up, there was still hope inside of him.

Why then is Peter the one who finds the handkerchief? I think it’s because Peter had learned to not just look for the things that he expected but to respect the things that are unexpected in life. That even loss and breaking news have a certain level of respect that gives you two paths on the road: to have faith or to give up. We see Mary and John both stop, never even taking the time to go inside of the tomb. But Peter, who had been fueled by his own mistakes, who had been fueled by his own desperation to reconnect with Jesus, saw something that no one else could see. That means it’s okay if you strayed away a little bit because your fuel to reconnect with Jesus is going to open your eyes.

This religious relationship might not have afforded you that, which means there is yet a place for you—that there’s a napkin folded in the corner of your destiny, and God is waiting for you to stop pretending to be busy long enough to take inventory of what you have left. So often, we can be so consumed, especially in this city, with looking busy. Everybody’s got meetings; this is the most meeting-obsessed city! Listen, everybody is busy, but not often do we have a lot to show for our busyness. Everybody is important, but not often do we have a lot to show for being so important.

Perhaps destiny is reserved for the people who are willing to slow down long enough to look like they aren’t working on anything—to look like they’re being outrun. I believe right now that some of you have been dealing with situations where you think someone arrived before you did. But the reality is they may have gotten there first, but they’re not going to stay there very long, because when you get there, you’re coming with a different mindset and a different perspective that you never would have had had you not gone through your trials.

So right now, we’re going to go ahead and thank God in advance for the arrival and the process it took for us to get there, because we recognize we weren’t really being slowed down; we were being taught how to look at things so that when we got into the room, we would see folded napkins where everyone else saw linen cloths. That when we got in the room, we would have fresh ideas and fresh creativity where everyone else just wanted to do the same old thing.

I decree right now in the name of Jesus that the Holy Spirit is saturating this place right now, that chains are being broken off of you, that glory is filling this place, that you have not been denied, you have not been delayed— that you are right on time and right on target, and that God is going to do a new thing through you. Something He couldn’t do through Mary, something He couldn’t do through John, but it took a Peter—someone who had some missteps, someone who had denied Him, someone who looked like they had no purpose. God was waiting on you to come into the room, waiting for you to walk into the tomb that He has a napkin set aside with your name on it.

If you would dare to stop outside of the tomb, you’re going to miss the greatest blessing of your lifetime. The difference between Mary and John and Simon Peter was one step. One step—that means you’re one step away from your breakthrough. You’re one step away from your destiny; you’re one step from everything turning around. You’re one step from being on the edge of amazing and stepping into glory. You’re one step away from who you always knew you could be, but doubt convinced you otherwise.

If you believe that, I just want you to take one step—just take one step. Just let the enemy know right now that you’re taking one step, that you’re walking away from who you used to be and walking toward what God has called you to. You recognize that there is still destiny down inside of you, and all it takes is one step. Peter has the dirtiest past of everyone we see in the text. He has the least likely outcome of everyone we see in the text. How is it that the one who denied Christ three times was the one who saw Him first? How is it that the one who didn’t look like they had it all together was the one who got the job?

How is it that the one who didn’t look like they had the income or had the job still has their car, still has their rent? How is it that the one who doesn’t have ends to meet, but somehow God keeps on providing, keeps on leaving crumbs after crumbs after crumbs? You give me reasons. Can we have a moment to worship Him for reasons right now? You give me reason after reason after reason, after re-napkin, after napkin, after napkin is folded for me. That where everyone else saw linen cloths, somehow I saw a napkin.

When the stone was rolled away, and some people turned because they were afraid they wouldn’t have what it takes to walk into the room—that You ordered my steps, that I was in perfect alignment, that I was in the right place at the right time for breakthrough to happen for me. I want to know who’s willing to walk into the tomb. I want to know who’s willing to look for the napkin. I want to know who’s willing to not let their circumstances dictate their tomorrow. Because if we allow our circumstances to dictate our tomorrow, we’ll find ourselves like John—coming to church every Sunday, in love with Jesus, knowing He loves us, but too afraid to act on that love.

He never meant to harm you, discourage you, or disappoint you. In fact, what He meant was quite the opposite—He needed to prune you. Y’all sit down; I’m just talking. You get me all fired up. If you could put the text back up for me. Then the other disciple who came to the tomb first went in also. He was a leader. Peter was a leader—the one who was least likely to convince the one who seemed to have it all together to go into the tomb.

When you walk into the tomb, you’re not just bringing yourself; your mother’s coming with you, your father’s coming, your friends are coming, your relationships are coming, and anybody who can’t come into the tomb needs to stay outside of it anyway. Because we’re tomb walkers in here. And he saw and believed. Somehow in that moment, what should have been a tomb becomes a womb, that what should have been a dead thing—a place for holding dead things—now becomes a place of faith being developed.

We see that John went from not believing and outside of the tomb to inside of the tomb and witnessing the napkin, and now he believes. I just want to interrupt your regularly scheduled program to tell you that the thing you’ve been calling a tomb is actually a womb. That the areas in your life that you thought were dead, that you were just about to give up on, that the areas in your life that you had counted out and that other people said were never going to make it were actually places of development.

When you recognize that your tomb is actually a womb, you’ll stop mourning what you think you lost and recognize that there are destiny moments left for you, that your very breath is a promise that God still has something for you. And because He still has something for you, it doesn’t matter what happened to you, it doesn’t matter what they said, it doesn’t matter what they believed, it doesn’t matter the lies you told yourself—all that matters is whether or not you’re willing to open up the stone, open up the tomb, and begin to search yourself for pieces that God has left behind.

I have to tell you that one of the most difficult times in my marriage with your pastor was when I told him that I felt… okay, I have to tell you the whole story. I am going to be fasting; we have altar time, then we’re going to let you go because we’re over time. But here’s the thing: some of you know I was a teen mom; I had my son at 13 years old, and now I have a daughter with PT, and it feels like everything has come full circle.

As we walk into this restaurant, I see our oldest daughter holding our baby girl, Ella, and just in a moment, I have this flashback of being 14 years old—holding my son with my family. I think to myself, «Man, it must have been really hard to be a teen mom.» But sometimes, we can become so consumed with trying to make it look like we have it all together that we rob ourselves of the opportunity to truly heal. And so I was sharing this with PT, and I thought, you know, I was just going to tell him this.

He told me, «Well, that means that there’s still something there that needs to be healed.» I was like, «You don’t have to, like, Pastor me, okay? I’ll pray about it.» Listen, being married to a man of God is really something else, okay? So he tells me, «How did you feel when you were that 14-year-old girl?» I began to express some of the feelings I had. Then just in that moment, the Holy Spirit comes into the room.

It’s interesting because God is not limited to time. He takes me back to being that 14-year-old girl, and in that moment, His Spirit is healing all of this brokenness and damage that I thought was healed. Why do I say that? Because in that moment, when we were reflecting on that time in my life, I recognized that there was a folded napkin there that I missed. I was so afraid of having to confront my truth that I robbed myself of the opportunity to see that God was still in the places that I had buried, that God still had hope, that He still had promise, and the ability to heal that which I had learned to conceal.

As I prepare to close out, I want to have an altar call. If you don’t mind, before you stand up, this is what’s going to happen: people are going to grab their purses and go dashing out the door. Let me tell you why I pray you’ll reconsider that, because we’re going to have an altar call, and someone’s going to make the decision to step into their tomb so that God can make it a womb. I’m not sure what is special at Starbucks or what time your brunch reservation is, but if you could not rob them of this opportunity to have an encounter with God that can develop something in them that changes the very trajectory of their lives, I would be most appreciative.

Would you please stand with me as I prepare to close? As I was discussing the text, I had to ask myself, what is the main idea? What is the main subject of the text? What is God trying to tell us? It dawned on me that Peter is the star of the text. That it wasn’t really the folded napkin like I thought, and it wasn’t the disciple whom Jesus loved like I thought; it wasn’t even Mary Magdalene like I thought. It was Peter—the one who denied Christ three times, yet the church would be built on him. It was the one who had to become so desperate and so broken for a touch from God that it changed how he saw life, that it changed how he saw the tomb.

I just believe there are people in this room who’ve been looking at certain areas of their life—whether it’s their past or their present. They’ve watched situations fall apart; they’ve watched relationships go away. They’ve been dealing with bitterness and unforgiveness, and they’ve just learned to conceal it and continue to live like it’s not there. I just happen to believe that there’s someone here who’s ready to take that tomb and turn it into a womb—that you’re not exactly sure how things are going to work together for your good, but you know that you love God and you know there’s a plan for your life. You just want to believe that He can do something with what you have left.

Would you consider meeting us at the altar? Would you consider stepping that extra mile so that God can have His way in your life in a brand new way? Peter proves to us that this is not about perfection; this is not about having it all together. This is about admitting that there’s something inside of me that’s a little bit dead and a little bit broken, and my hope has nowhere to go. I’m not exactly sure; I don’t have all the answers, but I just happen to believe there is still hope for me. And if God could do it for Peter, if God could do it for Ella, if God could do it for PT, then maybe He would consider allowing me to open my heart and face the fact that something in me died years ago.

But as you were speaking, as you were expressing the word, I felt a heartbeat again—that where there was a tomb in my life, the things that I thought I was fine living with, the things that I was masquerading as okay, as you were speaking, I felt something inside of me kick. I think there’s still life inside of me, and I want it to be developed so that I can have access to all of who God is.

Here’s the reality that Mary and John could have continued to have a relationship with Christ even had they never discovered the folded napkin. But because Peter saw the folded napkin and invited them to see the folded napkin, they had access to another dimension of Christ that they would have never seen. What I’m telling you is they were looking for Christ’s body, but what they found instead was His Spirit. The same Spirit that was in that tomb is available to you right now in this moment.

We don’t invite you down to the altar to humiliate you or embarrass you; no, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. It is to serve negativity and notice that it no longer has its hold on you, that when you walk out of your space of comfort, chains are being broken and strongholds are coming down because you recognize there’s still something left inside of you. No amount of shade can keep your light from shining; no amount of shade could keep you from walking into who God has called you to be unless you allow it.

I want to know if there’s anyone else who wants to join this body of believers. Come out of your seat and join us at the altar. Step out of your comfort zone so that God can show you your tombs and turn them into wombs. You don’t have to pretend anymore; you don’t have to hurt any longer. You can look back at yourself at 14 years old with a baby and still recognize that God loved that broken little girl too—that God loved Peter when he was denying Him, and He loved you when you were in the middle of your mess.

You’re never too far from the reach of God; you’re never out of His touch. But oftentimes, we rob ourselves of an opportunity to be held by God because we’ve come to a place where all we expect is rejection. Right now, I just decree in the name of Jesus that we shift our expectations—not to fit our circumstances but to fit the Word from God that we received. Even when we receive «no’s, ” our expectations aren’t going to adjust.

In our relationships, we’re not going to settle for what we think we deserve, because if God gave us what we deserved, none of us would have a chance. But because He is so faithful and committed to do exceedingly and abundantly above all that we may ask or think, we’re going to allow God the opportunity to blow our minds. Don’t just give us what we ask for, God; give us what You desire for us. Don’t just give us what we want; God, give us what we need. And no matter how that comes about, it is well in our soul.

Pastor, would you pray for us? There’s such glory on First Lady. I want you to pray; I want to lay hands while you pray. Just seal this word with prayer. Before we pray, just one more opportunity to join us. The Word says that where two or three are gathered in His name, there He shall be in the midst. Because we are expecting and believing that He will be in the midst of this body of believers, I see a wave of tombs transforming into wombs as we seal this in prayer.

If you want to be a part of that transformation, I encourage you to come join us. Father God, search us as only You can do. Open our hearts to Your truth and take us back to those moments where we were scared little girls and scared little boys searching for hugs and embraces, and help us to recognize that there was a folded napkin there. Help us to look at the areas in our lives right now where we are tempted to feel discouraged or disappointed. Maybe things aren’t going the way we expected, but help us to realize they’re going exactly how You planned—that You’re working all things together for our good.

So, Father, I thank You for every tomb represented at this altar, because we know that because there is a tomb, there is also resurrecting power. We just decree resurrecting power right now in the name of Jesus that they’re going to live again, oh God. That a well is going to spring up inside of them, and as that well springs up, they’re going to have new ideas, new creativity, new hope, and new desires.

Forgiveness right now in the name of Jesus. Some of us are struggling to forgive and struggling to move on, not recognizing that our unwillingness to forgive is keeping us at bay—that our destiny cannot be fulfilled until we let go of our past. We think that by being bitter, we’re punishing the other person, but in fact, destiny is being withheld because only those who have clean hands and clean hearts can approach You, oh God.

So, cleanse our hearts, oh God, until all we see is You, and cleanse our spirits, oh God, until all that is left is You. If the relationship isn’t You, break it. If the job isn’t You, take it. If the opportunity isn’t from You, remove it right now in the name of Jesus. All we have room for is You, oh God. We want to know You in a new way, oh God. Show us our identity, oh God. Show us that we haven’t been rejected or abandoned, but we’ve been preserved, oh God.

When we thought we were isolated, it was actually protection, oh God. So, we thank You for protection, oh God. That we were resenting the very thing that kept us from becoming like all the others we saw fall away, oh God. But instead, You’ve chosen us to walk this sometimes lonely road because we have the strength to take it. So show us our own endurance, oh God. Show us our own perseverance. Show us Your strength being made perfect in our weakness.

Father God, in the name of Jesus, I ask that You would identify every folded napkin in our lives, oh God—every promise that is just an amen, every promise that we thought we lost. That it would come flooding into our lives. I decree harvest right now in the name of Jesus, that there is a harvest that awaits us, oh God, and that we won’t reject it. We won’t walk away from it, but we’ll do whatever it takes to reap the harvest You have for us.

And because we recognize that harvest takes work, make us vulnerable, oh God. So vulnerable that all we have is You. So vulnerable that all we have is Your promise, oh God, and that we’re okay with that. Give us peace, oh God—peace for our destiny, peace for our lives, peace to walk into tombs, not be afraid of what we see. As we begin to see things in a new way, in a new light, help us to believe again—not just for what we expect, but to believe in the unexpected.

Recognize that every day is a destiny moment and that unexpected things can happen to extraordinary people that change our lives. I look forward to the miracles represented at this altar, oh God—that You’re going to make a way out of no way, oh God. Bills are going to be paid; doors are going to be opened, oh God. Opportunities to grow are going to happen—mentorship is going to take place.

We’re going to see ourselves not as who we are now, but who You called us to be five years from now-that we’re going to be laughing that we even thought this was an issue because we recognize that it was a setup, oh God. We thank You for breakthrough, not breakdown. We rebuke the spirit of breakdown right now in the name of Jesus. Enemy, you have no place here. The earth may be shaking around us, and things may be falling apart, but our hope is on the rock of our salvation, oh God.

When all things have passed away and all things are going astray, we recognize that You hold the world in Your hand. So show us, Father, oh God. Show us Your world. Show us Your Word, and let that Word take root in our lives and produce fruit that says I’ve been with them all along. In Jesus' name, amen.