The Good News Is Alive in the World

It appears that the methods employed to share the news of Easter have only grown in scale over the years. A recent article in Christianity Today shared that some churches are thinking beyond the scope of skits and traditional egg hunts and are “budgeting for helicopter rentals, skydiving Easter bunnies, and record-setting drone shows.” One church in California had a helicopter drop 100,000 eggs on Rabobank Stadium in two separate egg drops, and the event also included a skydiving Easter bunny. Easter events have seemingly grown in size, scope, and creativity, but the point remains: Easter is big news!

And while I don’t have any helicopter banners or confetti canons this morning, the gospel of Matthew brings us the news of Easter in a big way. Matthew gives us a brief but no less dramatic account complete with an earthquake, an angel descending from heaven and rolling away the stone before sitting on top of it like it’s nothing, the guards are frozen in fear, and then Jesus is already on the way to Galilee. This is not the quiet dawn scene of Easter. This is the kind of news that shakes the earth. For Matthew, resurrection is a seismic shift in the landscape, upending and altering everything in its path. This past week the world watched as we sent a team of Astronauts to the moon for the first time in over 50 years. Watching people’s reactions to this historic event has been joyful to see. One BBC reporter was watching and kept saying “Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness” while clapping. She talked about how you could feel the vibrations of the rocket in your body. I wonder if early in the morning on the way to see the tomb, did the women feel Easter before they saw it?

It is worth noting that the epic Easter news was discovered by women who were headed to see the tomb. We don’t hear about spices or anointing here but just that they were headed to see the tomb. When you have lost someone you love, do you need a reason to go and visit their grave. Isn’t the reality of death enough on its own? Who here hasn’t felt the sting of death? Born witness to its pain, its ferocity, it’s ability to take someone much too soon? In the face of such a gruesome execution, what is it that the women expected to see? The Greek word for “see” is more than just your line of sight or taking a look around but is more about intentionally observing and watching for something unusual. This word also underlies the English word, “theater” where the field of drama unfolds from.

The women were no less present in Jesus’s life and ministry. They supported his ministry out of their means, they followed him, listening to his teachings. At the cross, they remained as witnesses. The women stayed. The women saw it all. Might they have heard Jesus talk about how he would have to suffer and die and be raised again? What did that mean to them? And so we wonder, did they go to the tomb that morning with a vision that was on the lookout for something, ready for the unexpected and the unusual? Ready for what God might be up to. In Matthew’s gospel, there is no confusion about who Jesus is. There is running on the road with alleluias on their lips. There is Jesus suddenly appearing. There is grabbing hold of resurrection by its feet.

Everything has shifted. Easter time has broken through ordinary time and covered all of time with resurrection-colored glasses. As Robert Farror Capon said, “I’m always happiest when the future for which I hope manages to suffuse the present in which I live. ..On Easter, needless to say, the tomorrow that powered all these yesterdays finally becomes only today.”

Easter has entered and the only response is one of fear and great joy.

Fear and great joy? How do those two go together? It’s a bit of a paradox isn’t it? Kate Bowler reminds us that as people of faith, paradox is almost our constant state of being.

The kingdom of God is here. The kingdom of God is still coming.

When I am weak, then I am strong.

Whoever wants to save their life will lose it.

Fear and joy.

Maybe this Easter you have a mixture of emotions as well. You have your family with you. You are celebrating. You have a delicious meal waiting at home. You brought flowers to worship and you are ready to proclaim He is risen indeed. But maybe you also are missing someone, feel out of place, haven’t felt the best lately, and are fearful of what the world is coming to.

Fear and joy.

Rev. Lizzzie McManus Dail names the paradox of Easter in asking “how can we trust resurrection?…How can we trust resurrection when death is on the world’s throne?” Kate Bowler says “Easter arrives. And Easter should solve everything.

An empty tomb. Christ is risen from the dead. Death itself has been defeated.

Except when you wake up Easter morning, the world is still the world.

People will still receive diagnoses. Relationships still fall apart. Another war is going on halfway around the world.  Somewhere in the ocean, there is a continent of single-use plastics swirling around. And still you must decide what is for dinner again tonight (I think this part lasts until the end of time).

Theologians call this paradox the “already and not yet.”

We want the “already.” And would strongly prefer to skip the “not yet.” But all of our lives take place squarely in that gap.”

And in this location between the now and not yet, Easter faith meets us right where we are.

The women knew the guards might wake up soon. Caesar was still on the throne. Rome was still Rome. And yet, Jesus was on the loose headed to Galilee, still bearing the wounds from a few days before. And suddenly Jesus appears before them as they are running to tell the others. Before they had even seen him, they are running to tell. And then there he is. Standing in front of them.

The empire could not control him. Death could not stop him. The tomb could not hold him. Rev. Lizzie says “The good news of God is more alive than anything that tries to kill God, more alive than anything that tries to kill the imago dei in all of us. Kings come and kings go, and we may tremble still—but God? God shakes the earth with power and might so tender and so fresh it can make a tomb bloom with new life.”

And who did Jesus choose to share Easter with? Did he race to the temple with the high priest and say TaDa? Did he run to Pontious Pilate and say “I told you so?” No. Jesus returned to his friends and followers meeting them right where they were. He met the women in their fear, confusion, and wonder. He met the disciples locked in the upper room. He met Thomas in his doubt. He met the men walking on the road to Emmaus. He met Peter on the beach over breakfast and asking “do you love me?” Easter faith comes about for each of us in different ways, and each time, the risen Lord meets you right where you are. His wounded hands invite you to touch his side. His pierced feet stand still as you bend before them. His voice calls your name from the other side of the grave. His hands break bread that causes your heart to burn within you.

The good news that invites you and surprises you and loves you is alive in the world. Today. This moment. Among us. At this table. Now and forevermore.

Rev. Jacqui Lewis shared a story about how her Mom preached a personal sermon for me at my first communion (or eucharist) when I was seven years old. This is the ritual bread and cup served in congregations that evoke the Shabbat meal of Rabbi Jesus, and I was taking it for the very first time. I sat close to her and took comfort in her familiar smells: Jergen’s lotion and Windsong perfume. Mom whispered a little sermon to me. The cubes of bread came by—a sweet, Hawaiian bread—and she said softly, “This bread means God will always love you.” When the little cups of grape juice were passed, Mom whispered, “This cup means God will never leave you.”

God will always love you; God will never leave you, no matter what. This was not just a sweet memory for me, but proof of life, proof for life.”

Over these past several weeks, we have taken these dead branches and allowed them to bloom forth with good news. Leaf by leaf, proof of life. We have covered this tree with tiny resurrections. Together we continued to tell good news. Because we are Easter people. Because we believe good news is alive in the world. Because God will always love you and God will never leave you.