Luke
24:1-12
This morning we find ourselves at the
high point of the Christian year. This
is the central text, this is the core element of our faith, this is the story
around which all other stories revolve.
Jesus Christ was raised from the dead!
Hallelujah, praise God!
Of course, when our reading begins,
the women around whom our reading centers do not know this. They instead are engulfed in another narrative. The world in which they live is a world of
suffering and death. It is a world where
the Roman Empire and the Jewish religious authorities have collaborated to kill
a leader that they love.
It was the women alone who followed
the final steps of Jesus’ story. It was
the women who followed him that fateful day as he was paraded through the city
like a common criminal. It was the women
who witnessed his execution and watched from a distance until he drew his final
breath. It was the women who followed
and observed as his body was removed from the cross and placed within the tomb
of Joseph of Arimathea. And it was the
women who came that first morning to attend to Jesus’ dead flesh. It was the women who prepared the spices to
honor and anoint their king one final time.
As soon as the sun broke the horizon that
day the women made their way to the tomb.
They had prepared spices and oils for anointing, but there was no way
they could have prepared for what they would experience that morning. The stone had been moved aside, the tomb had
clearly been tampered with. Unsure of
whether this was the work of friend or foe, the women entered only to find that
the body they had come to attend to was missing. Where could Jesus have gone?
Suddenly two men of dazzling radiance
appear within the women’s very midst.
Naturally the women are terrified, and they throw themselves to the
ground in fear. I imagine that while
their minds were a mess of wonder and confusion, that their physical bodies had
an innate sense of the wonder and pure “otherness” that now shared space with
them. They were suddenly on holy ground,
and so they bowed low, heads bent, knees on gravel, faces in the dirt. Fear and wonder pounding in their hearts.
Clarity is needed as clearly the women
are scared and confused. The men speak,
delivering one of the most powerful lines in the whole of the Christian
narrative; “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” They tell the women that Jesus is no longer
present in that tomb; instead he has risen from the dead. The visitors invite the women to remember, to
search their memories for the words of Jesus’ himself, for surely they had
heard him speak of such events. Surely
they knew that he promised this very future for himself and for them.
The women kneel on the ground,
foreheads in the sand, and they remember. They know that the men speak the
truth, that is what Jesus said, and what Jesus said has now come to pass. The tomb is empty; he has risen from the
dead. The women rise themselves as they
leap from the ground in joy and excitement.
They cast aside their jars of spices and oil for there will be no
anointing of dead bodies today. There
will be no death at all today. Today is
all about resurrection, today is all about new life.
Imagine the joy and zeal in the
women’s hearts as they hurry back to share this good news. The things that Jesus taught were true, he
has risen. God has vindicated Jesus as
God’s Messiah, as the true savior of the nation of Israel. The women would be overwhelmed with joy as
they breathlessly share the story of their experience with their friends.
The women tell the apostles the good
news of Easter morning . . . and no one believes them. Not one.
They come to share the joy burning in their hearts, they come to share
the message that Jesus himself shared, and no one believes them. Their best friends, their trusted companions,
just look at them like they are crazy. The
women are telling an idle tale, and the men do not believe. How I imagine the women’s hearts were
crushed, what a disappointment. The
women are having the best day ever and the worst day ever, all at the same
time.
Have you ever had a day like
that? Have you ever experienced a day
that felt like the best day ever, a day that completely and totally changed
your life, but then when you went to tell someone else about it they just
didn’t understand? I have had plenty of
days like that. In fact, sometimes my
whole life seems like that.
The disciples thought the women were
telling idle tales. Webster’s dictionary
defines idle as “not having any real purpose or value”. The apostles listened to what the women had
to say about Easter morning, and they determined that the women’s story had no
real purpose or value. Ugh!
How often in our lives do we feel like
we are telling idle tales? Rather than
living in a world where people are experiencing change and transformation, we
live in a world where folks are constantly looking for the living among the
dead. Folks are constantly looking for
the world to be the way that it used to be.
Theology Professor Nancy Pitmann writes that we are all guilty of this
fruitless search. She says:
“We too want to tend
the corpses of long dead ideas and ideals.
We cling to former visions of ourselves and our churches as if they
might come back to life as long as we hold on to them. We grasp our loved ones too tightly, refusing
to allow them to change, to become bigger, or smarter, or stronger. We choose to stay with what we know in our
hearts to be dead, because it is safe, malleable, and so susceptible to
burnishing through private memory. The
words of unworldly messengers are a challenge to stop hanging on to the dead
and to move into new life. They are
reminders that the Holy One dwells wherever new life bursts forth.”
When we approach
those around us who seem to be clinging to that which is dead, and we share the
good news of Easter, the news of God present in resurrection and new life, we
can often feel like we are telling idle tales.
We can often feel like no one is listening to us, or no one really
believes the things that we are saying.
We can see our own narrative mirrored
in the story of these women this morning.
Like them we live in a world of violence and brokenness. Whether it is the increasingly angry
political rhetoric of our current election cycle, whether it is the increasing
violence in our world from terrorist bombings to mass shooting incidents, or
whether it is the increasing brokenness in our homes as marriages fail and as
children continue to disappoint, we are living in a world where death seems to
reign.
Like the women we come to the tomb,
preparing to deal with the reality of death.
But we are met with something much more profound. Instead of an end, we are met with a
beginning. Do not look for new life
among that which has died, do not look for the living among the dead. Instead, go out into the world and look for
new life in the world around you. Look
for resurrection, look for hope, look for places of peace, of healing, and of
reconciliation. Look for the resurrected
Lord in our world, for that is where Jesus told us he would be from the
beginning. Remember that is what he
promised, that is what he said.
As we go out into the world today,
proclaiming the Easter narrative, many will look at us as if we are telling
idle tales. They will accuse us and the
church of not having any real purpose or value, but you and I both know that is
not true. You and I both know that just
as the bulb sleeps through the frozen winter and then comes to life as a
beautiful daffodil in the spring, so too new life rises from that which appears
to be dead. You and I both know that
just as loved ones die and no longer are with us in the flesh, that we can still
feel their presence and know the reality of their existence with us in a way
that transcends our current understandings.
You and I both know that language of fear and hate and isolation, while
loud, is not as powerful as language of justice and peace and reconciliation. You and I both know that even though some may
brush aside the witness of our faith as an idle tale, that a seed is planted
which one day may sprout into something new.
The women left the apostles that
morning disappointed. But of course, the
story doesn’t end there. A seed had been
planted, and Peter eventually was stirred to action. He too, made his way to the tomb and saw that
this was no “idle tale” after all. The
tomb was empty, the burial cloths cast aside, and the belief in resurrection
began to germinate in Peter’s own heart.
Though the world may not understand us
and the stories of new life that we tell, we know that they are true. Death does not have the final say. New life has come and it is wonderful and it
is beautiful and it is truth. Like the
chicks who finally hatched in Parent’s Day Out, like the butterflies emerging
from their cocoons at Powell Gardens, like the daffodils that bloom outside our
own church doors . . . new life is no idle tale. We have witnessed transformation and change
in relationships, in individual hearts, and in our shared world.
This is the kingdom of God. This is the faith which we celebrate. This is the hope of Easter morning. Jesus has risen and it is no idle tale. Hallelujah.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
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