Easter Day Year A;
Matthew 28:1-10; St. Paul’s, Smithfield 4/12/2020
Jim Melnyk “Be Not
Afraid”
Matthew’s account of the resurrection is only ten verses
long; and like all the other gospel accounts, the actual resurrection takes
place off stage. None of the four evangelists try to explain to us the mystery
that is resurrection – after all, how does one explain events for which we have
no experience or language. We only experience the after-effects of this
glorious event.
There are ten verses in Matthew’s account in which we’re met
with earthquakes and angels, soldiers and women, an empty tomb and a risen
Jesus. Twice in those few brief verses we’re told about experiences of fear –
the soldiers outside the tomb are so terrified by both the earthquake and the
angel who appears that they are shaken to the core and become like dead men.
Also in this version of the story we’re told that it’s Mary Magdalene, and
another Mary, probably the mother of James and Joseph we heard about in the
Passion Narrative, who go to the tomb to keep vigil; and that their encounter
with the angel elicits both fear – or perhaps incredible awe – and great joy.
And ten verses into Matthew’s account of the resurrection and twice we hear the
blessed words spoken so many times throughout the gospels, “Do not be afraid.”
These words are spoken first by the angel, and then by the resurrected Jesus.
And I find myself in awe that two grief-stricken women seem to have more
courage, and more hope, than Roman Centurions and the other guards.
And so it seems to me that fear and great joy are the
hallmarks of resurrection. How can we not fear, on some real and visceral level,
the mysterious power of God to raise someone from the dead? Should we not quake
at such power, and wonder at the ramifications for each of us in light of such
power? Should we not have some healthy sense of fear about a God who can so
easily bring life out of death – some sense of fearful awe of a God who can
unleash such power in the world around us? How can our hearts not leap for joy
at even the slightest possibility that what God does for Jesus, God also does
for us? For we who through our baptisms have been buried with Christ in his
death, have also been raised with Christ to new life. And that is a thing of
great joy.
We come to this most holy day having lived a Lenten fast
that we never expected to live – I cannot recall a time when Lent has been so
real for me. And in some ways that fast continues while we live out even this
most glorious day still under Stay-at-Home orders from both Church and State. I
am sure that most of you long, as do I, to find ourselves together at the altar
receiving the sacrament of Holy Eucharist and greeting one another in the peace
of the risen Christ.
But regardless of our current reality, the power of Easter
will not be reined in or easily dismissed. As writer and preacher Jim Wallis
reminds us, "Through Lent and Good Friday, and the long vigil of Easter,
we have wept over death. But on Easter Sunday morning, by the power of the
resurrection and the grace of God, we [are] enabled to laugh at it."[1]
Now, I’ll be among the first to admit that I’m not laughing
at much these days – though I am deeply thankful for many of you who send funny
and uplifting comments and cartoons through social media. But as we said on
Palm Sunday and many other days as well, this Lenten fast we’ve experienced by
way of the Coronavirus and our physical separation from one another will not
have the final say. In the end God’s power to redeem and renew will always win
the day.
We need only look once again at that first Easter Day to
find affirmation that God is with us even in the hardest of times. Matthew
reminds us that the risen Jesus doesn’t appear first and foremost to the
comfortable and powerful of Jerusalem. He doesn’t show up on Pilate’s doorstep
or in Herod’s court. He appears first to two women – Mary Magdalene and the
other Mary – who are followers of Jesus lost in their grief and possibly
fearful for their lives. And yet they are the first witnesses to the empty tomb
– the first followers of Jesus to be commissioned as evangelists – and the
first two people to actually see the risen Christ. This incredible tale is a
reminder that God comes first and foremost to those who feel broken and lost –
perhaps because those who are broken and lost stand most in need of the risen
Christ’s promise of resurrection life.
And not only does Jesus appear first to the women, but the
meaning of the original Greek implies that Jesus joins them – that Jesus
accompanies them for at least a part of their journey to proclaim Good News to
the other disciples still in hiding – those who had either fled at the moment
of the arrest, had betrayed Jesus, or denied him while he was on trial. And yet
what is the message the women are to carry to those who had deserted Jesus? “Go
and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”[2]
The disciples who had abandoned Jesus in his most dire moment of need are now
called brothers – “an indication that their alienation [from Jesus] has been
healed from the divine side” – and that these two women have become “not only
missionaries of the resurrection message, but also agents of reconciliation.”[3]
The first Easter Day came in the midst of uncertainty,
anxiety, and fear. The first Easter Day came in the midst of betrayal, denial,
and alienation. And it brought with it new life, new hope, and the joy of
reconciliation. Easter Day comes to us this morning with many of the same
challenges and fears as that first Easter. And that’s okay. Easter isn’t about
the reanimation of a corpse that will one day die again – that’s what makes
Jesus different from Jairus’ daughter, the widow of Nain’s son, or Lazarus –
all of whom would eventually die again. The resurrection of Jesus is about the
transforming power of God to make all things new even in the midst of the
challenging realities of life. Death will never again have the final say.
My former professor of Church History, Don Armentrout –
blessed be his name – has this to say about Easter: “To say that Jesus has
risen from the dead means that he is not where we left him.
Jesus has not been left back in Bible times. He is still
with his followers to teach [us] and help [us]. Jesus is not the Jesus of our
childhood anymore. He has new tasks and new challenges for us as adults. Jesus
is not even the [same] Jesus we knew yesterday; he will reveal more of his
nature and his power every day of our lives.
The women who came to the tomb on Easter morning discovered
that Jesus was no longer there, and that has been the testimony of Christians
ever since. As he promised, he is always ahead of us, always bringing us new
possibilities and new hopes.”[4]
This is the Jesus who comes to us this morning – and who
will be with us always – even to the end of the ages. This is the Jesus who has
been to the cross and beyond, and who will be with us in the challenging days
still ahead of us. This is the Jesus of Easter – the Jesus who shakes heaven
and earth – the Jesus whom death could not contain – the Jesus who lives to
heal us and make us new. Alleluia! Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed!
Alleluia!
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