"The New Ending (Easter Sunrise)"
Pastor Roger Gustafson
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Matthew 28:1-10
Grace and peace to you from God the Creator and the Lord Jesus. Amen.
Early in the morning, Mary Magdalene and another woman named Mary made their way quietly to the graveyard where so recently they had left the body of Jesus, very dead and buried. Their plan for this morning was simply to come and look at the tomb; sometimes it helps the grieving if you can just sit by the dead body of a loved one.
Grieving. It wasn’t so long ago that their lives had been filled with hope and wonder instead. After all, they had been there and had seen him actually heal people, feed people, even restore to life a man who had died, Lazarus. His popularity was growing. But no longer. So now what? Back to Galilee? Or stay here in Jerusalem and try to patch together a new life?
And then they got to the graveyard.
“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. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said.’” The Marys respond by running from the tomb with a mixture of hope and wonder. The guards skipp the joy part and head right into a panic attack. They keel over.
So why the terror? Well, they had been to the crucifixion. They had seen the horrific wounds to his body, heard his anguished cries from the cross, seen him literally take his last breath. Jesus wasn’t simply playing dead; he was dead. These Marys are veterans at life, which means that they know about death. They had seen it many times before. They know what it looks like, they know what it smells like, they know what everybody knows – that death is for keeps, that once you put someone in the ground, they stay there, it’s the logical conclusion to life.
So if Jesus is no longer dead, that means that they don’t understand how life really works, and that can be terrifying.
After all, what you believe about how the story ends determines how you live the rest of it. One of the realities we come to grips with at one time or another is the reality of death. Oh, we might throw up elaborate defenses against acknowledging it, but at some level we know it’s coming. We experience the death not only of our mortal bodies, but also the death of relationships, of our careers, of our dreams. It’s the final reality that waits at the end of every story. That’s why we’re so driven to accumulate all the positive experiences that we can, to make our dreams come true, to have as much fun as possible before someone blows the whistle and tells us that it’s time to get out of the pool.
But like an earthquake, resurrection shakes the foundation of our lives because if loss and death are not the final destination and the realities that we struggle against, then we need to re-evaluate our life’s mission. Our culture tells us that Easter is a sentimental Hallmark moment about springtime hope and butterflies and bunnies; in fact, Easter is all about why the Marys run out of that graveyard in terror. “He is not here; he has been raised, as he said.” They’re right to be terrified, because everything that they know – everything that we know – about life has been tossed upside down. If your story doesn’t end in death, then your life can no longer be simply about taking care of yourself at all costs; now, your life can have a higher purpose.
Remember the guards? They see the same thing as the two Marys, and they pass out. No wonder. They had just killed this Jesus. It had been nothing personal; they were just doing their jobs. They had done this sort of thing many times before. Just doing their jobs was the way they made it from day to day, how they organized their time, how they made sense of their lives. But if Jesus is no longer dead, what does that say about the significance of their jobs? What does it say about your job? What does it say about the ways that you make sense of your life?
A recent survey reported that 75 percent of Americans believe in the resurrection of Jesus. Seventy-five percent is a big number, but it’s not impressive. What would be impressive would be the answer to the question, “So what?” What difference does the resurrection of Jesus actually make? What difference will it make as you walk into your work tomorrow or into your classroom tomorrow? What difference will it make in your work as a father or mother or son or daughter? What difference will it make when you are dealing with a serious illness, or when you’re struggling to find hope?
Remember what the angel said? “He is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.” Back to Galilee. That’s where it all started. Galilee was home. That’s where the angel is directing them to go, back home. And that’s where the angel guides us as well, back to our homes, back to our routines, back to the pots and pans of our everyday lives, because that’s where we will see Jesus. He’s waiting for us there. It isn’t death that’s waiting for us at the end of our story or in the middle of it; it’s the Savior.
Again, what you believe about how the story ends determines how you live the rest of it. If you believe that Jesus rose from the dead, that he is involved in your life now, and that he’s waiting for you at the end, then a natural byproduct of that belief is hope. There is still hope for that troubled and tangled relationship between parent and child. There is still hope for clarity around the question, “What is the purpose of my life?” There is still hope for responsible and compassionate action from our politicians. There is still hope for peace in the Middle East. There is still hope for all of God’s creation because Jesus is not only waiting at the end of your story; he is involved in your life now.
Believing that is a matter of faith, and faith always involves a leap. I recently read of a family whose house caught fire one night. The whole family made it outside in time, except for the 7-year-old son. He was sleeping in the upstairs bedroom, and couldn’t make it downstairs and outside with the rest of the family. He was able to scamper up to the roof, and was stuck there, the flames surrounding him.
His father was on the lawn below, looking up at his son. He called up, “Son, just jump. I’ll catch you.”
The flames were all around, the smoke was so thick that the boy couldn’t see anything, and he called out, “Daddy, I can’t see you!”
“That’s OK, son,” he father yelled back, “I can see you, and that’s all that matters. Just jump.”
The boy jumped, and of course his father caught him.
For most of us, life is not a series of dramatic house fires, but it is filled with opportunities to trust the One who waits for us with open arms; to trust that he will catch us not only at the end of our story but each and every time we take even a small leap of faith and live as if we believe our story ends not in death, but in new life. May God bless your living in Resurrection power. Amen.