Part 1 – Rev. April Fiet

Early on a Sunday morning, before the sun had fully risen and illuminated the world, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary “went to see the tomb.” The stone that covered the tomb was massive. The two women knew there was no way they could move it, but they went to see. Perhaps they went to grieve. Maybe they went because they wondered about what Jesus meant when he said he would rise on the third day. In either case, they went while it was still dark–a very dangerous thing for two women to do.

As I’ve reflected on the courageous journey of these two grieving women, I have tried to imagine myself in their shoes. I imagine the crisp morning air on my skin as I walk in the darkness, and I wonder what sounds they heard. Right before dawn, birds break the silence of nightfall with their “dawn chorus.” After a night of silence, they sing loudly and joyfully, calling to one another. If I took a pre-sunrise walk in my neighborhood, I would hear the cooing of doves, the squeaky gate call of bluejays, the laughter of robins, and if I’m lucky, the cheer-cheer-cheer of cardinals. I wonder what birdsongs the two Marys heard. Did these songs feel out of place after the pain and grief of the previous days?

Suddenly, the early morning sounds are disrupted by a great earthquake. The earth shook as an angel from heaven rolled the stone away from the tomb. The darkened sky is pierced by the light coming from the angel, whose appearance is described by the Scriptures as “like lightning and his clothing white as snow.” The guards were terrified by what they saw. Matthew chooses the verb form of the word for “earthquake” to describe how shaken they were by what they saw and heard. The guards fell down as though dead, but the women stood fast. The angel tells them not to be afraid, and they share with the women the good news of the resurrection. Matthew writes that the women “left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy and ran to tell his disciples.”

This morning, as we celebrate the joy of the resurrection, I can’t help but think about how shocking and jarring it all must have been. Like the Jerry Lee Lewis Song, there was a “whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on.” The earthquake, yes. The soldiers shaking with fear, yes, that too. But deeper than that, the very core of what anyone thought could be true was shaken. The grave didn’t have the last word. Shame was defeated. Death was overcome. The moment the women learned the good news of the resurrection, everything they knew was turned on its head. As Pope Francis said in his 2014 Easter vigil message: “To return to Galilee means…to re-read everything–Jesus’ preaching, his miracles, the new community, the excitement and the defections, even the betrayal–to re-read everything starting from the end, which is a new beginning, from this supreme act of love.” Everything that had happened during Jesus’s ministry and everything that would happen after this moment at the tomb was shaken and shaped by the love of Jesus that spared nothing.

We have gathered here this morning because of this good news: Christ is risen! (He is risen indeed!) We have been shaken awake from our complacency, from our going through the motions in our lives, and we come face to face with the best news there is: Jesus gave everything, even his own life, so that we might live. The grave could not hold him. Death did not have the last word. And because of this miraculous act of God, we can experience the same in our own lives.

Whatever is trapped in our hearts, whatever grudges are holding us down, whatever broken places are in need of mending, whatever seems lifeless and hopeless inside us–may all these things be released, mended, healed, and reconciled. Just like the mighty earthquake as the stone was rolled away, may we experience the movement of the resurrection throughout our lives. We may not experience it as strongly and as quickly as the women did on that first resurrection morning, but may we find the rumbles of resurrection beginning to roll away the many stones in our hearts.

I want to conclude with this poem by Malcom Guite called “Easter Dawn.” May this poem help you to encounter the risen Christ and experience the transformational power of resurrection in your life.

Easter Dawn
He blesses every love that weeps and grieves
And now he blesses hers who stood and wept
And would not be consoled, or leave her love’s
Last touching place, but watched as low light crept
Up from the east. A sound behind her stirs
A scatter of bright birdsong through the air.
She turns, but cannot focus through her tears,
Or recognize the Gardener standing there.
She hardly hears his gentle question ‘Why,
Why are you weeping?’, or sees the play of light
That brightens as she chokes out her reply,
‘They took my love away, my day is night.’
And then she hears her name, she hears Love say
The Word that turns her night, and ours, to Day

Part 2 – Rev. Jeffrey Fiet

Almost 25 years ago, on a day in late April, I woke my girlfriend up in the middle of the night (a bit earlier even than when we got up for the sunrise service this morning). I was dressed in a suit and tie, and she in pajamas and a frown. We were spending the weekend at my parents’ house, and it was our last weekend together before she went home to Utah for summer break. I led her up the stairs to the family room at my parents’ house where we danced a little and cotton balls rained down from the ceiling fan. Then I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me, to which she responded, “Did you ask my dad?” When my answer was sufficient, she said yes and agreed to marry me. I’m not sure what she would have done if I hadn’t asked her dad or if he had said no, but luckily for me, that didn’t happen. We didn’t go back to bed after that but stayed up talking till morning. We were much younger then and handled the lack of sleep a bit better. Once morning came and my parents got up for the day, we told them the good news. Then a bit later, when it was a reasonable hour, April called her parents to tell them we were engaged. Then later, our siblings and friends. Eventually, we told coworkers and classmates and even probably a number of strangers. We were excited and had to tell people the good news.

When the women came to the tomb, they were sad. They had come to grieve. When the angel came and rolled away the stone from the entrance, the women were probably in shock. They weren’t sure what was happening. It was probably a bit scary for them. The guards were clearly frightened. But the angel talks to the women. The angel says to them, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’ This is my message for you.” I doubt that this immediately soothed their fears, but I think it also gave them a pinch of hope. Now, it doesn’t specifically say that the women looked at the place that Jesus’ body had been laid, but it says they left the tomb, so I suspect that they did look. The lack of a body lying there was probably disconcerting, but the words of the angel would have given them hope that perhaps Jesus really was alive, and not just missing.

Now, the Greek word for angel is angelos. Angelos means ‘messenger.’ Anyone delivering a message to someone would have been referred to as an angelos. The messenger who appears to the women at the tomb is clearly something more than just a person delivering information, but the angelos does have important information to share. He has come to tell Mary Magdalene and the other Mary that Jesus has been raised from the dead. I’m not sure which part of this would have been more surprising to them: an angel appearing in the midst of an earthquake and glowing like lightning or learning that their friend Jesus had come back from the dead. I suspect they were probably having a hard time believing either to be real. But just like with really good news, when you have really weird, unexplainable things happen to you, you feel compelled to tell others about it.

So, despite their shock, Mary and the other Mary go off to tell the disciples what they just experienced. Matthew says, “So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy and ran to tell his disciples.” That word ‘tell’ is the verb form of angelos. They are running to deliver a message. Now, before they can deliver that message, they encounter Jesus himself. And Jesus gives them another message to deliver. He tells them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers and sisters to go to Galilee; there they will see me.” Go and tell. Again the word tell comes from angelos. Jesus sends them to tell his disciples, not only that he is alive, but that he wants to meet them in Galilee. This is a message of good news that they have to share.

The message that Jesus was raised from the dead is still good news for us today, nearly 2000 years later. It is a message that we should still be excited to tell others about. The resurrection of Jesus is good news because it means that death does not have the final victory. There is life beyond death. Jesus’ resurrection means that no matter how awful life gets, there is hope of something beyond the suffering. Jesus’ resurrection means that no matter how much the darkness envelopes us, light will always overcome the darkness. It is this good news that we can cling to amidst life’s struggles. It is this good news that sometimes meets us on the journey in unexpected places through unexpected people, when a glimmer of light and hope fills our hearts. So, on this Easter Sunday, let us rejoice in this good news, let it fill our hearts, and let us go and tell this message of hope to a world that feels a bit hopeless right now. Christ is risen. He is risen indeed. Go and tell the world! Amen.