Where is the body of Jesus? Why isn’t his body lying among the grave cloths here in the tomb? And what’s this light? It’s so dazzling I can’t see. Hide your face Joanna and Mary! What have they done to Jesus’ body? What will they do to us? Wait a minute, listen…one of them is speaking. What are you saying? What do you mean don’t seek the living among the dead? We’ve come for the body of our dead friend. What do you mean, he is risen? I don’t understand? Where is the body? We’ve come to prepare him for a proper burial. Why isn’t he here? What have you done? What on earth has happened?
Stop! Stop! Let’s try to think…We must try to remember…remember what he said, remember what he taught…remember how he lived among us…
But these last few days have been so terrible. Pain and grief are so all consuming - I can’t think, I can’t get my head around this…what does it all mean? What do you mean he is risen? We have to tell the others; perhaps together we can make some sense of all of this…
Of course they didn’t believe a word we said - they scoffed at us and scolded us - an idle tale told by hysterical, grief struck women! Only Peter showed any curiosity…He went to the tomb…he saw the empty linen cloths…he came back like us, amazed at what had happened.
Luke’s account of the resurrection on that first Easter morning is in stark contrast to our Easter celebrations here today. Here among bright spring flowers, and colourful butterflies we have shouted and sung alleluia at the top of our voices accompanied by trumpet and full organ. We have laughed and joyfully danced together. The somber purple banners and hangings of the Lenten Season are replaced with rich and glorious golds and yellows.
Some among us have already had the excitement of egg hunts, and are full of chocolate. Others among us are looking forward to an Easter feast with family and friends. This is a festive day of celebration and joy.
In contrast, in Luke’s account of the first Easter morning, there is no apparent celebration and certainly no mention of any joy. There is no singing and dancing, no bright colours, no shouts of alleluia! Instead, the friends and disciples are Jesus are perplexed ... terrified ... disbelieving ...and amazed.
With our full voiced alleluias and vigorous Easter celebrations, we might easily overlook their initial responses to the resurrection. Easter for them was not a glorious blaze of certainly and joy, rather, they experienced Easter as a gentle dawn whose light gradually pierced the shadows of their confusion and terror, grief and despair.
And as they remembered, the shadows faded and their eyes and hearts were opened to see the Christ in their midst. As they remembered, the idle tale emerged into a truth newly born, a truth they could scarcely comprehend, a gift so precious and fragile, so unbelievable and marvelous that they only dared to whisper their amazement for fear that shouting it full volume would shatter its reality. It would take some time before the full impact of this Easter dawn would begin to shape their lives.
I wonder if our experiences of the risen Christ are in reality, more like the experiences of those first witnesses. I wonder if we too are more inclined to experience the resurrection truth with their mix of doubt, confusion and disbelief.
You see, I believe that in many ways we are a people and a culture all too tempted to dwell among the tombs and graveyards of this world. How often to we run and hide from all that life has to offer, choosing instead a grim half-existence of simply getting by and getting through each day.
Strangely enough we often feel safer in such a world because here the demands of a dead and dying world are few.
In this reality, in these tombs hidden away from life, our routines are not challenged; voices that call out to us to care more deeply for ourselves, or for our neighbour or for this earth are muted and muffled. Here amid the shadows with the stone keeping life at bay
- There is no danger of being hurt and disappointed once again
- no need to venture outside of our comfort zone,
- no need put our heart on the line,
- no need to stir up hope only to have it dashed to the ground,
- no need to engage in the risky business of reaching out to reconcile and build peace.
Among the tombs and graveyards of this world, none of that matters anymore. And while this is indeed a safe place; a place of few demands, it is a place of shadows; a place of waiting to die. It is not a place of opening up to life.
The good news of the Easter gospel is that in the death and rising of Jesus, God does not abandon us to this graveyard existence. Wherever and whenever we find ourselves in tomb - driven there by suffering and pain, despair and fear, failure and disappointment, betrayal and rejection, apathy and doubt, God rolls back the stone, and calls in to us,
‘What are you doing in here? This is no place to place to spend your days; this is no place in which to live. Remember, I have created you for life, and nothing in heaven or on earth will keep me from coming among you day after day to call you back into this life.
Haven’t you heard, Jesus Christ is risen among you and in him my love is newly risen in this world and newly risen in you. You remember Jesus’ love for you…remember how he fed you when you were hungry and how he welcomed you when others turned away, remember how he calmed your fears amid the storms and prayed with you and for you, remember how he helped you to see my kingdom here on earth, remember how he trusted you as a friend, remember how he taught you to make peace with your neighbour and with your own heart, and at the last hanging on that cross, remember how he forgave you.’
The good news of the Easter gospel to those first witnesses and to us, is for us to remember most of all that the love of God we know in Jesus is not simply a distant memory!
On this Easter morning and every morning the good news of the Easter gospel is that the love of Christ is newly born today, and is alive in us and in this world.’
Friends, this is no idle tale. Yes it may take some getting used to. When we are used to living in shadows, the Easter dawn seems a bit bright at first. But gradually we will grow accustomed to the light and we will begin to see a new reality. At first we may hesitate to speak of it and to name it, for fear it will vanish as soon as it came. At first we may scarce dare to breathe for fear that a gift so precious might shatter and break.
But such wonderful news cannot be contained. At first in cautious whispers and then more confidently we will speak of what we know to be true. We will tell one another of the love that sustains us, of the hope that rises in us day by day, of the truth that challenges us, of the eagerness for life that draws us into building God’s kingdom of peace and justice. And as we tell the good news and live into this Easter reality each and every day, the joy will grow in God’s people and creation and together we will rise and shout to God, ‘alleluia!, alleluia! alleluia!
