Grace to you and peace from God
our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Christ is risen! He is risen,
indeed! Alleluia!
The women were seeking a grave. They
had witnessed Jesus’ burial just two nights earlier as Sabbath had approached.
Sabbath law forbade work of any kind, so with Jesus dead, and time running out
for proper burial, they could only give the body the most rudimentary of burial
care that it deserved. It wasn’t what they wanted to do; it was all they had
time to do. The grave had been cut out of solid stone. It was new; a body had
never been laid in it before; and, most important, it was nearby and available.
In this sepulcher, the God of Creation was entombed into the belly of His own
creation.
The women were looking for a
body. They wanted to show Jesus a final honor. They watched helplessly the last
days of Jesus’ life as He was arrested, hauled away in bondage, tried and
convicted. They wept as they stood in the crowd that lined the streets as Jesus
staggered by under the weight of the cross. They wept again when Jesus was
crucified. They heard His seven words; they saw Him breathe His last. They saw
Him die. They had cared for Him in life; the least they could do was care for
Him in death. They had seen Joseph and Nicodemus take the body, which had been
taken down from the cross, and place it in the tomb.
They were expecting a stone that
stood in the way of their plan’s fulfillment. To get to Jesus, to use the
precious spices and aloes they had purchased, they must move the stone. It was
probably large and heavy; they knew they couldn’t move it themselves. Perhaps a
sympathetic solider would lend them aid, or perhaps a disciple or curious citizen
would help. But even then, it had been sealed – stamped – with Governor
Pilate’s mark. It was as if creation and Rome were both conspiring to prevent
their final act of love from happening.
They were seeking what every
person expects when they walk into the cemetery: a grave, a body within, and
stone. And silence. It’s always silent because the grave, the body, the stone –
they do not speak. The story always goes
the same in a cemetery. Loved ones seek the place where the dead lay. The
silence is broken with whispers, with tears, with sobs. It’s what is expected
in the cemetery.
Except this wasn’t the same
story. It wasn’t the same old grave, it wasn’t the same old stone, and it
certainly wasn’t the same body. This was Easter morning. This was resurrection
day. This was Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God. The grave they sought was
open. The body they were looking for was gone. The stone they expected to cause
so much trouble was moved away. Open grave, absent body, moved stone – no, this
was nothing that they expected.
Two men with dazzling clothes shone
into the darkness, radiating light. “Jesus Christ is the light of the world,
the light no darkness can overcome, we sang on Maundy Thursday.” These two men were
not the Light, but they come to bear witness to the Light. A gentle reproach, a direct question: “Why do
you seek the living among the dead? He is not here but has risen.” This is the
first Easter proclamation. Good News abounds! Where Good Friday was darkness
and death, and Saturday’s Sabbath rest was rest in the tomb, the first day of
the week brings resurrection and with resurrection is light and life.
“Do you remember, the angels
asked, how He told you these things?” It’s as if the angels ask, Do you
remember Jesus’ telling you how He spoke plainly, just these past days, how He
must go up to Jerusalem, be arrested, and suffer and die at the hands of the
chief priests and teachers of the Law? Do you remember that? Do you see how
that has been fulfilled in what you witnessed these past days?
Do you remember that this Jesus
who died, died for you? Do you remember that Jesus, who lived a perfect life
because you are unable to, became your substitute? Do you remember that Jesus,
the Lamb of God, was the perfect sacrifice for your sins? Do you remember the
cry of Jesus, “Father forgive them?” He prayed that for you. Do you remember
the plea, “I thirst?” He drank the bitter cup of suffering for you all the way
to the dirty dregs. Do you remember how He gave His mother to the care of John,
the Disciple? It shows He cares for you in this life. Do you remember His
pledge, “Today you will be with me in paradise?” It shows He also will care for
you into eternity. Do you remember the agonized cry, “My God, my God, why have
you forsaken me?” He was forsaken by God so you never will be abandoned by your
Heavenly Father. Do you remember his declaration, “It is finished?” God’s plan
of salvation, the atonement – the payment – for the sins of the world is done
in Christ’s death. Do you remember the final prayer, “Father, into your hands I
commit my spirit?” Through Christ, we are restored to the Father’s presence and
His holds us in His hands in love, grace and mercy.
Do you remember what else He
said? That after three days He will rise again? As the past days have come
true, so also will His third-day promise. Today’s the third day. Today is Easter
Sunday. Today is resurrection day.
It is no small thing that this
takes place very early on the first day of the week. Creation began on Sunday
in Genesis; it comes to completion on Sabbath, what we call Saturday. When else
would you expect a new creation to begin, a new heaven and a new earth opened
but at the beginning of a new week. The old week is complete. It is finished,
remember? As is the week, as is God’s plan of salvation. Resurrection Day
begins a new week; it’s an 8th day of Creation, if you will.
Resurrection gives a new beginning; it gives new life. He who was dead is
alive. He who was buried is raised. He who was restrained cannot be contained
any longer – not by creation, not by a stone, not by a grave, not by death. He
has risen!
I met Ruby and Elmer in the
spring of my internship year. They were probably in their 80s and, from the
looks of things, life was tough. After the initial chit-chat of strangers
meeting for the first time, there was silence in the room. I noticed Ruby, in
the bed with her blankets pulled to her chin, was staring at her husband,
wearing a red gimme hat and a plad shirt under his overalls. I can’t remember
which of them spoke first, any more, but one said, “I’m scared.” A diagnosis of
stage four, inoperable cancer will scare anyone. A few seconds later, the other
agreed, “Me too.” Over the course of the discussion, I discovered that the
couple hadn’t been inside a church since they were each baptized as babies.
Now, with Ruby’s life in grave danger, staring death in the face, they needed a
word of comfort and hope. They needed to hear about Jesus.
Over the next few months the
pastor and I visited them in their home and then in the nursing home. Pastor
took them through adult instruction and made them members of the congregation
via confirmation. On Ash Wednesday, for the first time, they took communion
together, Ruby in her bed and Elmer at her side. They didn’t need ashes; the reminder
of death was drawing ever closer. Ruby died a few weeks later.
Pastor and I visited Elmer at
home. You can imagine, some of you know first-hand, the pain he was
experiencing. He promised he would come to church…soon, but not this week.
Finally, it was Easter morning. The church was full. When it came time for the
communion service, as Pastor and I were sharing Christ’s body and blood, suddenly,
there was Elmer kneeling at the rail. I saw Pastor start to cry as he gave him
the body of Christ and hoarsely whispered, “The body of Christ for you.” That
got me. I choked out “The blood of Christ” as tears began to fall. We finished
the table and had to excuse ourselves. We stepped back into the sacristy for a
minute and wept – tears of sadness but also tears of joy: Elmer was there. With
sad smiles, we went back and finished the service.
After church, Elmer held back
just a little bit. He wanted to thank Pastor for everything. I watched these
two men, both gruff and grumbly, hug. Then, I heard Elmer’s rumble: He’s not
here, Pastor. He’s risen. Neither is my Ruby, but she’s risen, too. You taught
me that. And that means I’ll get to see her again one day. Christ is risen.”
And with a final handshake, Elmer walked out the door.
That is why the empty grave, and
the rolled-back stone, and the resurrected Jesus are so important.
Christ is risen. He is risen,
indeed. Alleluia.
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