Alleluia! Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Matthew 28:1-10
The Resurrection of Jesus
After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning,
Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. 2 And
suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending
from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3 His
appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. 4 For
fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. 5 But
the angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for
Jesus who was crucified. 6 He is not here; for he
has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. 7 Then
go quickly and tell his disciples, “He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to
Galilee; there you will see him.” This is my message for you.’ 8 So
they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his
disciples. 9 Suddenly Jesus met them and said,
‘Greetings!’ And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshipped
him. 10 Then Jesus said to them, ‘Do not be afraid;
go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.’
'On the first day of the week' - a sermon for Easter Sunday
It is the first day of the week.
Light is breaking through the darkness as dawn comes.
In the garden, by a tomb, the guards keep watch –
for what?
It’s not as if the one inside is going anywhere, right?
Perhaps they ponder their lot,
wonder when they will be released from their task to get breakfast,
wonder what they’ll have for breakfast,
and look forward to getting some much-needed sleep.
Warring is only a part of what they do:
more often, theirs is the job of watching, waiting.
And so, on this particular early morning, they wait.
All is quiet –
‘quiet as the grave’, thinks one.
He watches as two women make their way to the tomb, nods to his comrade –
‘pretty harmless,’ he muses,
‘they’re just women, after all…’
still, it breaks the boredom…
But nothing – none of the years of training –
prepares him for what happens next.
Suddenly, and with no warning, the ground beneath him shakes:
heaves and moves with an almighty disturbance –
an earthquake?
The great stone that covers the entrance to the tomb rolls back…
No time to think.
He watches with his comrade –
both now utterly wide awake.
There is a light – blinding –
and a being dressed in brilliant white sits on the now-fallen stone.
The guards –
hard men, toughened by the nature of their occupation –
find themselves shaking:
such fear is upon them that they fall to the ground as if dead.
Do the women cling to each other in confusion and wonder?
But, then they hear the words:
words so often uttered in stories long gone:
‘do not be afraid…’
even so, this angelic messenger is so … ‘other’
More words:
‘He is not here…he has been raised.’
How can this be?
They had watched as Jesus had carried the cross,
winced at every lashing and harsh word,
waited with him:
witnessing his last hours,
hearing his last words,
the cry of desolation,
…the acceptance:
‘it is finished’.
They had seen him die,
walked with the others to the tomb,
watched as the great stone rolled across its dark
and death-filled mouth.
…Wept.
They had certainly clung to each other then
just as they held each other now –
not quite taking this in:
even as this shining messenger from God continued to speak.
‘He is not here…’
‘Risen’
‘Going to Galilee.’
Beyond the fallen stone and the bright being, the women see an empty tomb.
They are not entirely sure what this all means –
but for the first time in a couple of days, the inner darkness of sorrow
has been replaced with
hope…
wonder…
…a strange… joy…
this, even while they are still, quite understandably, terrified:
for, it is an awesome and fearful thing to behold God’s messenger.
As instructed, they hurry away from the emptiness of the open tomb,
find the others – the friends of Jesus.
And, even as the news is told:
he is here… among them.
Unlike the guards who had fallen to the ground as if dead,
his disciples fall at his feet, astonished, a little fearful,
yet even so, somehow energised by life itself.
In wonder, they worship.
And prepare for a journey north:
time to go home, to Galilee to share the good news:
‘Alleluia! Christ is risen!’
‘He is risen indeed, Alleluia!’
Over these last weeks, we’ve walked through the wilderness of Lent:
and, in this last week, have journeyed with Jesus through Holy Week,
through the palms and the cheers,
to Gethsemane and betrayal in the garden;
to arrest, and trial, and jeers, and crucifixion.
…And in the darkness of that death,
held our breath as time stood still,
and watched
and waited.
And, we have dared to hope -
for unlike the two Marys before the dawning of the light on that first Easter morning,
we know how this story ends:
that there shall be no more tears,
that darkness is overcome,
that death is defeated,
that the light of the world can never be put out.
If you’ve ever had your heart broken by loss and laid someone or something you loved in the tomb:
this story is for you.
If you’ve ever needed some earthshaking good news,
if you’ve ever needed hope,
if you’ve ever lived as if death had the final word:
this story is for you.
If you’ve ever needed light and warmth to return to your life,
if you’ve ever needed a second chance and the possibilities a new day offers:
then, this story is for you.
Indeed, this is a story for the world:
for all the broken people and broken places;
for all weighed down by the relentlessness of bad news stories
that whirl around on an endless spin cycle of doom;
for all who have lost hope and see no future;
for all who feel the chill of poverty, homelessness,
the horror of war and brutality and injustice; …
for all who so desperately need a second, a third, and more chances because the start they had in life means they have never been on an equal footing;
this story is for all of them,
for all of
us –
for it is the good news story of God’s love –
from life, to death,
to hell and back…
Here, with an empty cross,
grave clothes folded,
and with resurrected alleluias,
we stand with the Marys…
we stand with the friends of Jesus:
we stand, astonished, at this strange, yet familiar story:
of death defeated;
learning that there is more to life than what we know or comprehend,
and that, in Jesus –
through his life, his death, his resurrection –
in the mystery that is God’s –
somehow, we are brought into his marvellous light,
we have cause to hope,
we have life.
Love wins.
And, as the two Marys were called,
as his friends were called,
so too, we are called:
to share the Good News –
and in these times in which we live,
the sharing of Good news is both a radical act, and so very much needed.
We share God’s love and encourage others to love,
and watch the darkness lift and see the light pour in –
see the power of love at work in the world.
We witness to the staggering truth -
that Jesus is not dead.
He lives still...
This is the day that the Lord has made;
let us rejoice and be glad in it.
This is Easter:
and we are his witnesses:
‘Alleluia! Christ is risen!’
‘He is risen indeed, Alleluia!’
Amen.
Easter prayer
Amazing, life-giving, and eternal God:
On this day, of all days, we raise the cry with such glad hearts:
‘Alleluia! Christ is risen!’
‘He is risen indeed, Alleluia!’
We give thanks for the gift of Easter
that runs beyond our expectations,
beyond our categories of reason,
and which fills our hearts with the hope that keeps us going.
We offer our prayers to you Lord God reminded on this day of all days:
that this is not the end,
this is just the beginning -
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen
Over these next 50 days of the Easter season, may you know the joy of the risen Christ.
Easter blessings to you all,
Nikki
