April 7, 2007
Easter Vigil, Luke 24:1-12
“And behold, Jesus met them and said, “Hail!” And they came up and took hold of his feet and worshiped him.” Amen.
After Jesus died, it was all his followers could do to get his body in a grave (the followers that hadn’t deserted him, that is). They chose a tomb close to the place where he was crucified because the Sabbath was upon them, meaning that they were commanded to rest and not to do work. They were good, faithful Jews, so they had to leave Jesus’ body in that tomb without anointing or other burial rituals. They were desperately sad that their beloved friend and leader had died, not to mention frightened that they might be arrested and persecuted next for following him. And they were likely struggling to understand what it meant that the person they thought was their Messiah was no more. It was anything but a restful Sabbath.
I imagine Mary Magdalene and the other Mary counting down the seconds of the Sabbath until they were permitted by Jewish law to go and give Jesus a proper burial. To go and see his body again and confirm that the awful Friday crucifixion was not a nightmare but the truth.
And so Mary and Mary started out for the tomb very early that morning with heavy hearts. Back to the place where Jesus had been crucified. Back to the awful place where they had seen their beloved friend, teacher, Lord die a horrible, painful, humiliating death. Back to the place where it seemed as if the whole world had turned against him, shouting so hatefully, “Crucify him, crucify him.”
It would have been understandable if the two women never went anywhere near that place again. If they’d just returned to Galilee and tried to put this awful experience behind them. But they couldn’t. They had spent too much time loving and following and learning from Jesus to turn away now. Too much time watching him heal the sick, raise the dead, challenge the powerful, love the unloveable, befriend the friendless. And so they returned to the tomb. Matthew’s gospel tells us it was before dawn; John’s says it was still dark. The women couldn’t wait another minute.
Is this where we are in the Easter story? Here we are at this Vigil service. It’s still Saturday, and we’re already here – trying to get a jump on Easter, wanting to be the first to cry “Allelulia!” It’s still dark, not yet dawn – not even close. Do we sometimes feel like those women, frightened and overwhelmed, trying to make our way toward Jesus at the first possible moment, but without having any idea what will happen when we reach him?
Next in the story we see those diligent, loyal Mary’s at the tomb. Just as they get there, there is a dull rumbling in the ground and their path moves terrifyingly beneath their feet. And if it’s not enough to experience the earthquake, next they see an angel who has rolled back the stone covering the entrance to Jesus’ tomb and is sitting on it. This angel isn’t some sweet, cherub-baby angel or some slender, blond, beatific female angel like you might see in a Renaissance painting. This angel looks “like lightning.” This angel is so terrifying that the soldiers guarding Jesus’ tomb trembled and “became like dead men.”
But not the Mary’s. Those two are not easily dissuaded, not easily run off. Long after many of Jesus’ other followers had abandoned him and forsaken him, these women stayed to watch him die on the cross. They were not about to desert him now, even if it was only his lifeless body in the grave and no longer their beloved friend and leader, their great hope for the world.
But then, it turns out, they were too late. Too late to give Jesus’ dead body a proper burial. The angel tells them that Jesus is not there – he has risen as he said. Even as early as the women had gotten there, they were too late. There was no use for their spices and ointments now. The tomb was empty.
That part of the story feels awfully familiar too, doesn’t it? We’ve come here early, and yet even now we can’t catch Jesus in the act. We can’t pinpoint that moment when his work of salvation happened. When earth and heaven were joined and humankind was reconciled to God. It began with all those wonderful, awe-inspiring, Old Testament stories we’ve heard tonight of our history with God, our history of being loved and forgiven by God throughout time:
From God’s making a new covenant with Noah and all future generations after the flood,
to the freeing of the Israelites from bondage in Egypt and leading them on their journey through the exile,
to the promise of a new heart and a new spirit for God’s people,
to the guarantee that God will gather us and bring us home.
And then, in our Easter Vigil service tonight, the stories jump to Jesus’ empty tomb. Just as the women don’t get to see Jesus’ lifeless body rise up, don’t find out how he got out of that tomb, we don’t hear about the moment when Jesus broke the chains of death, when he destroyed the power of sin. There’s a gap in the story that makes it hard to understand how Good Friday became only a dark way point on the journey toward Easter and not the terrible tragic end. Sometimes we feel like we’re in that gap, so caught up in our own expectations for God and preoccupations with our lives that we can’t feel Easter’s assurance of forgiveness and redemption.
Before Mary and Mary can process what has happened, the “lightening” angel tells them what to do next. First, come, see the place where Jesus lay. Then, go quickly and tell the disciples that Jesus has risen from the dead and they should meet him in Galilee. The women can look at the empty tomb, but they can’t dwell there. They can’t stay where they are, mourning their beloved friend and leader, reliving the awful crucifixion, wallowing in their regrets, their precious memories. There isn’t time – there is too much to be done. Now is the time to run ahead, to share their knowledge about Jesus’ empty tomb with others. Now is the time to invite others to stop what they are doing, to change course and meet the risen Jesus. And so the women run. Filled with both fear and great joy, they run to do what the angel has told them to do.
At times, that might be another place we fit into this story. Trying not to wallow in all the ways we don’t find Jesus where we expect him to be. Trying to live the lives that we think we’re supposed to live even though we don’t always understand why. Feeling like we’ve somehow missed something, but trying to trust the explanations and assurances we get about Jesus from others, whether it’s other believers or the Church.
But that’s not the end of the story for the Mary’s. The women run off, “and behold” – Jesus meets them. They are able to take hold of him and worship him. And then they get their instructions straight from Jesus. “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brethren to meet me in Galilee.” The instructions are exactly the same as those given by the angel. But the words sound different coming from the lips of Jesus himself. Having encountered and loved their savior for themselves, the women’s fears vanish. They have more understanding now, more purpose. They can now run ahead to share their story with light steps and buoyant hearts.
This is where I want to be in the Easter story.
Like Mary and Mary, we come here tonight to find Jesus, to celebrate Easter. Like these two women, even though we come early, we can’t pinpoint the triumph of Easter exactly or understand fully how or why it happened. Like them, sometimes this journey of faith feels so incomprehensible that we just have to rely on the wisdom of the Church or the experience of other believers. But sometimes, just like those early loyal followers of Jesus, sometimes we get the great joy of experiencing the risen Jesus for ourselves. And then comes the really important question, the question that matters so much more than the when’s and why’s and how’s: What do we do next? When Jesus meets us on our path, when he appears in the midst of us, how do we live our lives in response? How do we live out our Easter forgiveness and redemption?
Because we are an Easter people. The gospel story for tonight is our story. Where are you in this story tonight? Or, better yet, where do you want to be?
Amen.
ER