A Sunday
School teacher had just finished telling her third graders about how Jesus was
crucified and placed in a tomb with a great stone sealing the opening. Then,
wanting to engage their imaginations to discover the excitement of the
resurrection, and the surprise of Easter morning, she asked: "what do you think
were Jesus' first words when He came bursting out of that tomb alive?" A hand
shot up into the air from the rear of the classroom. Leaping out of her chair
the little girl shouted out excitedly "I know, I know!" "Good"
said the teacher, "Tell us." Extending her arms high into the air she sang out:
"TA-DA!"
Today is "ta-da" day. We are "ta-da" people. For God has performed a masterful
act. "Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where O grave, is your victory?
Where O death, is your sting? Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through
our Lord Jesus Christ!" In other words..... "ta-da!"
Indeed. As Matthew tells the story, the first ones there, Mary Magdalene and
the other Mary were not there to witness that great "ta-da" moment. They come
later. Early in the morning, as the sun was dawning. They were going to see the
tomb. Not unlike our desire to visit the grave of a loved one soon after the
burial. To draw near. To grieve there, in the garden where our loved ones are
laid. They are going to see the tomb.
What do they expect to see? A grave site. Soldiers posted to guard it, surely
they had heard of Pilate’s orders. They come looking for the tomb, their hearts
no doubt gripped by despair. As is sometimes the case, perhaps it had taken this
time for the grief to begin to set in. To take hold.
As they approach, Matthew says, there is an earthquake. And what the two women
witness is indeed earth shaking. It‘s enough to make their hearts quake in their
chests, even as their breath comes to a halt. An angel descends from above, and
rolls the stone away and perches on top of it--like a large bird. A large white
bird, his appearance, Matthew reminds us, "like lightening." The graveyard
guards, when they see this, are struck as if dead.
It’s not what the women had come expecting to see. They came to see a tomb.
Death. But they are confronted with something else. Earthquakes. Roman
soldiers laying on the ground like the victims of a fierce battle. An Angel
sitting atop the stone that had sealed the grave.
Matthew’s story of the resurrection if filled with
fear.
Listen to part of it again:
"...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... ...go quickly and tell
his disciples, 'He has been raised from the dead,"
...So they left the tomb
quickly with fear ...."
Later they are confronted by Jesus who says to them yet again, "Do not be
afraid;"
Matthew tells the story for people who know fear. When the earth shakes, our
imagination quickly turns to destruction, death, and despair. Matthew’s story is
a story for fearful people who look at a grave and can only see death. Can only
feel despair. Who fear that this is the end.
If this is a story for people who know fear, then it is a story for us. This
has been a winter of long suffering. Enduring illness has visited too many of
our number recently. Others here have had the ground shake under them—fragile
relationships, uncertain futures, injury, burdensome debt. Several of our
number have lost loved ones. The grief is fresh and painful. If the Easter
story is a story for fearful people, it is a story for us.
For
Americans, life since September 11, 2001 has never been the same. Violence has
forced us to be take account of our fear as we travel, work, live and play in
our own backyard. From
BTK to still another devastating school shooting rampage, we live in a world
filled with terror.
Matthew’s Easter story is a story for people who have begun to fear that terror,
despair, and death are truer—much more real, than joy, hope and life.
I
want you to notice something about Matthew’s Easter story. As the women
approach the Angel rolls the stone away, and sits atop of it, in a rather "ta-da"
fashion. Notice, the stone is not rolled away to let the Christ out, but to
invite the women inside. The stone is not rolled away for Jesus’ escape, but for
these witnesses who have come to see death, to see what resurrection looks like!
Then the Angel speaks to the women’s fears.
"Do not be afraid. You are looking for Jesus, the one crucified. He is not here,
but has been raised as he told you. Come and see where he once was. He has been
raised from the dead and is going ahead of you to Galilee, there you will see
him."
They ran to tell the others, Matthew says, full of full of fear and great joy.
You ever felt that way? Filled with fear and joy? Like a thriller roller coaster
ride, you don’t know whether to scream or laugh? So you do both. Fear and great
joy. The fear has not yet subsided, but it is now accompanied with a great joy
born of hope. Is it any wonder they find themselves running as they return to
tell the others the good news?
And then, they encounter the risen Lord, who greets them and they fall at this
feet, grasping hold and worshipping him. "Do not be afraid. Tell my brothers,"
Jesus says, using the intimate family name for the first time, "tell my brothers
to go to Galilee. There they will see me."
I’d like to think the fear fully gave way to joy at that moment, that "ta-da"
moment, as the two Marys come to encounter the risen Christ. For in so doing,
they knew, without a doubt, that a God who was powerful enough to break the
bonds of death, was indeed powerful enough to free them from their fear.
We are called to be Easter people. We are "ta-da" people. We are people of
resurrection. We will not allow despair to take hold of us. We will not live in
fear. We will not be content for death to speak the last word. We will not allow
the hollow hurts of this world to shape our soul. We know.....God resurrects new
life out of death. Many of us have been taught since we were children this
simple truth.
Not long ago, I encountered a stuffed toy that played a musical version of a
very familiar prayer most of us learned when we were children. A bed time
prayer. I'll bet you know it. Say it with me.
"Now I
lay me down to sleep . . . I pray the Lord my soul to keep
If I should die before I wake . . . I pray the Lord my soul to take. "
Some might worry that this was a morbid prayer to teach to a child. Quite the
contrary.
As
Methodist preacher Mike Slaughter writes, "Do you remember praying that? Death
and all that stuff was scary. But we knew God was big enough to hold us, didn’t
we? When we went to bed, we didn’t lack fear. There were monsters under the
bed, and bigger monsters in the closet! But we weren’t like adults. We went to
sleep knowing that God was big enough to care for us."
Ta-da!
God
IS big enough, to take care of all that frightens us. Of all that causes us
sleepless nights and worrisome days. Of all that threatens us. The Easter
promise is this: God is big enough, to take care of even death. Even death.
Thanks be to God.
