Easter Sunday: With Fear and Great Joy

Matthew 28:1-10

A sermon by Kathy Toivanen at EMUC, 3/27/2005

Let’s take a minute to review some of the lines from the Easter Gospel according to Matthew.

"And suddenly there was a great earthquake"

"for fear of the angel the guards shook and became like dead men"

"the angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid".

"So the women left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy"

"And Jesus said to them, "Do not be afraid"

Somehow, Matthew’s account of the events on Easter Sunday seems out of place with many of our cultural and religious celebrations of this day.

Earthquakes, people shaking with fear along with repeated encouragements by angelic creatures and the risen Christ "not to be afraid" don’t mesh with Easter egg hunts, fluffy bunnies, yellow baby chicks, and chocolate. Matthew’s account doesn’t even seem to have much in common with our celebrations here today among the Easter flowers and decorations. Matthew’s gospel is strangely silent when it comes to the Easter dance we just enjoyed or the "halleluiahs" we have sung and shouted.

As Christians who have celebrated the Easter event for almost 2000 years, we have forgotten how terrifying and earth shattering that first Easter must have been.

I invite you to try and imagine that you are there on that first Easter morning.

As a friend of Jesus, you have been through so much in the past week.
Last Sunday you were part of a wonderful parade into Jerusalem, palm branches waving, crowds shouting hosanna. But it was also a day when the growing anxiety inside you was ratcheted up a notch. Why couldn’t Jesus have been content to stay in the rural areas? Couldn’t he have lived simply as a beloved rabbi in a small village, satisfied with a quiet ministry of teaching and healing?

But no, Jesus was bent on going to Jerusalem, the centre of political and religious power. And now the controversy was growing, the murmuring and dissenting voices were getting louder. And after the dramatic incident in the temple, when Jesus turned the tables, crying out against the injustices of the money changers and the hypocrisy of the religious establishment, you could feel your stomach churn with fear. You watched in alarm to see small groups gathering as you overheard the whispers "This Jesus must be stopped."

Even a quiet and peaceful dinner at the home of friends in Bethany did nothing to ease your growing sense of dread. Why couldn’t Jesus just relax and play it safe for a change? Why did he have to argue with those who protested the action of the woman who anointed him? Couldn’t he have tried to smooth things over with Judas?

After that, you felt as if you were trying to plug the hole of a sinking ship.
Confused and worried almost to a state of panic, you watched as Jesus continued to challenge the community and religious leaders. Later at the Passover meal with Jesus, you joined the others to protest that you would never leave Jesus, and never betray him.

Finally, the tension of the week caught up with you and you fell asleep in the garden on the Mount of Olives, only to wake and discover that your worst fears had been realized. And in the very moment when you could have stood up and defended Jesus, you ran away and deserted him.

Full of self-loathing and bitter tears you followed at a distance as Jesus carried a cross through the streets. Finally on a hill outside Jerusalem it all came to an end. You watched during those agonizing hours as Jesus hung on the cross and when he breathed his last, it was as if the breath of the Spirit was torn out of your own chest.

On the Sabbath, despair and cynicism took root in your heart.
You resolved to put away hope and to shut the door on the promises of Jesus – promises that once filled you with wonder and joy.
Now was the time to face the brutal reality of life.
The injustices in the world would never be stopped.
Those who love would always be betrayed or victimized.
Any good that could be done, would eventually be destroyed.
In short, the best any of us could hope for was to survive from day to day.

And now it is the dawn of Sunday morning. With a numb heart you go to the tomb to say your final goodbye and to end this sorry chapter in your life, once and for all.

And that’s when you walk into the earthquake zone. The earth beneath your feet heaves; gravestones are moved as if they are pebbles. Lightening tears open the heavens and you are blinded by the brilliance.

Of course you are afraid!
You came expecting death, only to find that it isn’t there.
You came prepared to end an unfortunate chapter in your life only to find that a new chapter is just being written.
You came with grim resolve to put away hopes and dreams only to experience a reality beyond any expectation.
Of course you are afraid!
Everything you have come to believe about the world is shaken to its core, turned upside down and inside out.
The reality you were resigned to live in has been shattered.
The landscape that is opening before your very eyes is new, strange and uncharted.

Easter is all about the Risen Christ who shatters the reality we have become resigned to live in.
Easter is all about the God who shakes up the world as we know it and gives us the gift of a new world to walk into.
Easter is God’s word that the world is about forgiveness and freedom, not vengeance and retribution.
Easter is God’s word that the world is about enduring love, not growing hatred.
Easter is God’s word that the world is about hope and promise, not despair and mere survival.
Easter is God’s word that the world is about being filled up with joy, not being scared to death.
Easter is God’s word that the world is about life, not death.

To say yes to the truth of the resurrection means saying yes to God’s word about the world.

It means walking through the earthquake that shakes up our old reality and running headlong into a new world.

A new world where we embrace our new identity as Easter people and where we live a reality that is rooted in the justice, in the love, in the forgiveness and in the promises of Jesus Christ.

If we are honest, such a radical shift can be frightening. Even if the current reality is not entirely pleasant or satisfying, at least it is familiar territory. To voluntarily enter an earthquake zone goes against our better judgment.

With the resurrection, God does what we cannot do.
Against our better judgment, God comes to our tombs and rolls away the stone that keeps us inside.
Against our better judgment, God restores in us the Spirit of Christ that stirs us to hope again, to trust again, to love again, to work for justice again, to build peace again, to dance again, to shout hallelujah again, to truly live again.

Today is Easter. I invite you to go against your better judgment.
I invite you to walk into the earthquake.
I invite you to stop being afraid, to leave your old ways of being and believing about yourself and the world.
I invite you to step into a new landscape and see a world coloured by the unshakeable and death-defeating love of God.
I invite you to run with joy to tell the world the Good News.
Christ is risen! Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed!
Halleluiah!