Easter Sunday
Grace be to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Have you ever had one of those weeks where things just seem to pile up? I had one of those last week.
We were still driving my daughter to physical therapy following her hip surgery, in Bethesda, not exactly close to where we live. Our septic tank overflowed into our basement. When the plumber and then the septic people and then the plumber again had come and left, we had spent over $1,000. Plus we were told our septic tank needs repairs to the tune of $2,000. We took a deep breath and thought, “Hey, we can use our tax return money for this.” Well, the very next day we received the notice from our accountant that there will be no tax return for us this year; that we in fact owe almost $3,000. And then the first medical bills from our daughter’s surgery started coming.
On top of that I am a member of our synod’s council, and we had a very draining, 6-hour long session that Saturday. And I am stressed about work, wondering what to do to get Calvary thriving again following COVID. Plus Holy Week was around the corner with all the extra services to plan; for two years, our Holy Weeks were shaped by COVID, and now we had to remember how we used to celebrate. And both my husband Eric and I had lingering colds. And our dog started chewing on his dew claw and needs to see a vet. And our daughter discovered that the AC in her car was broken.
I imagine you all have had weeks like this, where one thing after another goes wrong; when you wonder, “What next? What else can we pile on?”
I would love for Jesus to show up in my life and help me. I would love to see Jesus so he can give me direction and hope. I would love to feel Jesus’ presence because that would give me strength and endurance. I would love for Jesus to wrap me into his arms and tell me that everything is going to be alright.
I would love an Easter experience.
I once read the story of a pastor giving a children’s sermon on Easter Sunday. He asked the kids what they thought Jesus said when he come out of the tomb. One of the kids suggested, “Tada!!!”
If Hollywood had directed the Easter story, I am sure there would have been such a “Tada!” moment. The tomb would have opened dramatically, a spotlight trained on Jesus, who emerged strong and victorious, wrapped in brilliantly white cloths. The sight and the sound would have been remarkable. And the whole thing would have been witnessed by a bunch of people who would shout out in awe and wonder, joy and extasy.
Such an Easter experience would have been wonderful last week. But I didn’t get that.
Neither, it turns out, did the first disciples on the very first Easter morning.
They, too, had a lot to deal with. They had followed Jesus to Jerusalem. Expectations were high that Jesus would do something amazing in the capitol city. But then he had been arrested and tortured and crucified. He died a terrible death. When he did die, the Sabbath was about to break in when nobody was allowed to walk around. The disciples had just enough time to lay his body into a tomb and place the stone in front of the opening, all very rushed, all very haphazard, not at all the burial they would have wanted for their beloved friend.
They are in a city where they don’t live, grieving the death of their master, dealing with huge disappointment, having no clue what to do next. Yes, they could have used an Easter experience. They could have used Jesus jumping out of the grave, shouting “Tada!”
But that is not what they get. Their Easter morning was not directed by Hollywood. It is instead rather anticlimactic.
The women come to the tomb at dawn, as early as they are allowed after the sabbath. They want to do what they didn’t have the time to do on the night of Jesus’ death: give him a decent burial; anoint and wrap his body according to the custom of the day.
They get to the tomb and find it open. Hmm! They look inside and discover that it’s empty. No body. Curiouser and curiouser. The Bible says they were perplexed. No wonder. This really is unexpected and weird.
It gets even stranger when two men in dazzling clothes suddenly stand next to them. Now the women are terrified!
The two men have a message for the women: “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.”
These men connect the women with their story with Jesus, with their faith in Jesus. ‘Remember’, they say. Remember what Jesus told you. Remember how Jesus tried to prepare you. Remember that Jesus promised to be with you forever. He died, but now he lives again; he will live forever, and he will be with you forever.
The two men re-root the women in their memory of Jesus and his love. They assure them that his love has not ended; Jesus lives and will continue to love them. By doing that, they make the future manageable for the women. Jesus lives. Jesus loves them. Jesus will be part of their lives forever. This Easter news gives them something to hold on to. It gives them direction. Suddenly they know what to do next: Go back and tell the others. Give the hope of the Easter message to other people who are burdened, confused, overwhelmed, lost.
This past Monday morning, our book conversation group met to discuss another chapter in Anne Lamott’s book “Small Victories”. One paragraph in that chapter reads like this:
I started to feel like a tired, wired little kid at a birthday party who has had way too much sugar, who is in all ways on overload, but still finds herself blindfolded and spun around for a game of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, and then pushed more or less in the direction of the wall with the donkey on it. But I was so turned around, so lost and overwhelmed and stressed, that I couldn’t even find where the wall with the donkey was – or even in what direction it might be. I couldn’t take one step forward without the chance that I was actually walking farther away from it. And it took me a while to remember that for me, the wall with the donkey on it is Jesus.
The women at the tomb were spun around by all that had happened to them, by their grief and pain and loss. The two men in white helped them find the wall with the donkey on it: Jesus. Jesus is alive. Jesus will help them figure things out. Jesus will help them cope. Jesus will show them the next step, and the step after that. Jesus will lead them into new life.
It wasn’t a big, glorious, showy “Tada!” that the women received, but a kind conversation with people who cared, who helped them remember, who helped them find the wall with the donkey on it, who reconnected them with Jesus and all the gifts he offers, who made Easter real and tangible for them.
Blessed by this encounter and uplifted by their Easter faith, the women go to the group of disciples and offer them the same gift they had received: caring conversation to help them reconnect to their faith in Jesus, to help them grasp the wonderful gospel that Jesus is alive.
That day, the disciples struggled to wrap their heads around it. But Jesus will help them with their Easter faith. He will show up repeatedly in the weeks to come and reveal himself to the disciples. He will always do this to groups of followers: the women at the tomb, the disciples on the walk to Emmaus, the friends in the upper room, the followers gathered at the ascension – there are always at least two people present when Jesus appears and stirs Easter faith in people. The women get it from the men in white. Then they bring it to the group of disciples. Then the disciples will go and spread the Easter faith in community after community. Easter faith is stirred up and supported in community.
Last Monday, when all those things had piled up in my life and we read that chapter together, tears welled up in my eyes because I felt so overwhelmed by it all. The group of believers I was gathered with helped me – helped me find the wall with the donkey on it. They reconnected me with my faith. They assured me through words, hugs, and prayers that Jesus was alive and would be in the situation I had to deal with, offering his strength, comfort, and counsel.
The Easter message to the women and to all believers has never been, “Jesus is alive and now everything will be alright.” Following that first Easter, the disciples and apostles have a tough journey ahead of them.
Nowadays, we will have weeks when stuff piles on. We will be knocked off balance by repeated COVID flare-ups, by rising prices for just about everything, by the illness or addiction or poor choices or mental health struggles of people we love, by worry about the war in Ukraine and what it might mean for the world and for us, by deepening divisions along political or racial or economic lines, by the continuing deterioration of the environment, and so much more.
The Easter message is not, “Jesus is alive and everything will be okay.” The Good News of Easter is: Life is challenging, and sometimes events spin you around so much that you lose sight of the wall with the donkey on it. But Jesus is alive, and Jesus will surround you with people who help you reconnect with your faith. Jesus’ presence will be made real for you amidst the community of believers. Whatever life holds for you, Jesus will be in it. Jesus’ guidance and love and comfort and hope will be in it.
Thanks to Easter, we are rooted in faith, surrounded by fellow believers, and accompanied by the risen Christ. Blessed by these gifts, we will live each day, trusting that our future rests in God’s hands. Amen.