Easter Sunday Sermon 2014
PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith
Grace and peace to you from God our
Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
If Mary
Magdalene and the other Mary visited a cemetery in Illinois this Easter morning,
they might expect to see a snowdrift blocking the entrance of the tomb. This
has been a long, hard winter, dear friends. I don’t know about you, but I’m so
accustomed to seeing snowflakes in the forecast that I could scarcely believe
it when I saw a number with a “7” at the front predicted for Easter Sunday. But
it’s true! The winter is past, the dark days are over, spring is here!
Alleluia,
Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, alleluia!
The women
went to the tomb early that morning with clear expectations of what they would
see: Not a snowdrift, but certainly a stone blocking the entrance. Guards
keeping watch for thieving disciples. And darkness, slowly giving way to the
light of dawn—just enough light to see the tomb where their beloved Jesus had
been laid.
The two
Marys expected death to have all the power that morning, just as we expect
winter to continue its indefinite reign. But when they arrived at the tomb, the
women saw instead something entirely unexpected:
An angel in white, descending from heaven in a flash of lightning, and by the
power of God rolling the stone away and opening the tomb! Suddenly, it was the
guards who were like dead men, paralyzed by fear. This was an earth-shaking,
game-changing moment, as God’s power was shown to be greater than death’s
power. The angel rolled away that ugly stone—the symbol of every power and
principality, every system of oppression, every cancer, every sin, every
monument to death and destruction—and he
sat on it. Sisters and brothers, hear again the Good News, that because
Christ has been raised, the mighty obstacles in our lives—even mighty death—have
been stripped of their power, and today are no more than resting places for
angels.
Alleluia,
Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, alleluia!
By the power
of God, and by God’s authority, the unexpected angel rolled away the stone and opened
the tomb, revealing that Jesus was no longer there. But his work wasn’t done! Angels
are messengers, and this one had a message for the two Marys. So he opened with
the standard angelic greeting: “Do not be afraid!”
Angels are
always doing this, have you noticed? Throughout the Scriptures, whenever an
angel appears, he tells us not to fear. There’s no introduction, no handshake, and
no small talk, just:
“Don’t be
afraid, Zechariah…your wife Elizabeth is going to have a baby.”
“Don’t be
afraid, Mary…you’re going to have God’s
baby!”
“Don’t be
afraid, Joseph…your fiancée is having
God’s baby, and he’s going to save
the world from all its sins!”
It strikes
me as an odd way to start a conversation, a little like saying: “Now, whatever
you do, DON’T think of the Easter Bunny.”…
There, you
just thought about the Easter Bunny, didn’t you? My work is done here.
Then again,
the sudden appearance of angels could be a bit scary, especially when they’re
buff enough to move big stones around. Perhaps acknowledging that fact up front
can’t hurt! So this angel in white begins the conversation in the usual way, announcing
“Do not be afraid!” And then he gets right to the point: “I know you’re looking
for Jesus who was crucified. He’s not here! You can take a quick look at where
he was last night, but then you need to go. Go, quickly, and tell the disciples
that Jesus has been raised! In fact, he’s already gone on ahead of you, and is
waiting for you in Galilee.
Jesus.
Isn’t. Here. Now go!”
Nothing to
be afraid of, right? Just a little angel. Just a little announcement. Just a
little mission from God…nothing to fear here.
Then again,
unexpected things and big announcements can be scary. I know a little something
about this, since in my family (and here at Bethany) we’re preparing for the
fact that Robert, Caleb, Zion and I are moving—not just around the corner, but
to Jerusalem, to work with ELCA Global Mission.
While this
is exciting news, it’s also scary, for all sorts of reasons. And like Mary
Magdalene and Mary the mother of Jesus on that Easter morning, I find myself
hanging out at the tomb a lot these days, thinking about what was, and wishing
things didn’t have to change.
But as we’ve
heard, angels come at unexpected times, and I had one visit me this week. Actually,
his name is Matthew, and he’s our five year old neighbor. Just like the angel
in today’s Gospel, Matthew wastes no time on niceties or introductions when he
visits.
The other
day, he walked right on in my front door and said: “Do you have any more Hot
Wheels?”
You see,
Matthew has been the primary beneficiary of our deep cleaning in preparation
for the big move. I would estimate he’s received around 150 Hot Wheels cars
already, not to mention a box of books, several winter coats, and a remote
control truck.
On this day,
however, I wasn’t too excited about entering our dark and messy crawlspace to
look for Hot Wheels for Matthew. After all…it was Holy Week. There was plenty for
this pastor to do! And besides, I was pretty sure there weren’t any Hot Wheels
left anyway.
“Matt, I’m
not going down there right now. Maybe another day.”
“Miss
Carrie, go down there now. I think there might be some cars.”
“Matt, I
said, I have other things to do. And there are no more cars.”
“No, Miss
Carrie, go down there! There might be Legos.”
“Matt, I
told you…another day. I’m busy.”
“Miss
Carrie, let’s go. This is important. I’ll go with you.” And just like that, we
were marching down the stairs and into the crawlspace—the resting place for all
forgotten toys—to look for Hot Wheels.
I suppose
the most expected ending to this story would be the discovery of a forgotten
stash of tiny metal cars. Alas, no such luck, for Matthew or for the hearers of
this sermon! But we did find a robot, and a whoopie cushion, and a marshmallow
shooter.
And I
discovered something else. I discovered that one reason I was reluctant to go
downstairs, and to check in that crawlspace, is that part of me wanted to hang
on to what was. Part of me wanted to keep those little plastic things right
where they were, because they reminded me of my kids when they were little, and
of the happy times we had in our house, and of all that we’re leaving behind
here at Bethany and in this country. Part of me wanted to prop a stone up in
front of that crawlspace and keep the door shut, rather than let it be opened
and see what comes next, because I was
afraid.
That’s a lot
of meaning to pack into one dark crawlspace, don’t you think? But as I watched
my unexpected angel, Matthew, joyfully skip across the street with his robot,
whoopee cushion, and marshmallow shooter, what I saw was joy, and resurrection,
and new life. I was reminded that we need those angels who are always on
message, persistent in reminding us: “Don’t be afraid!” We need to hear, again
and again (and not just on Easter morning): “That big stone you’re worried
about? It’s already been moved. Death and its supposed power? It’s already been
defeated. That tomb where you’re sitting vigil? It’s empty. Because Jesus is
not here! He’s gone on ahead of you, and will meet you in Galilee. Now go,
quickly, and share the Good News!”
Alleluia,
Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia!
My dear
people, life often brings unexpected, earth-shaking news. We find ourselves at
the tomb of a loved one—or at the chemo clinic, or the divorce lawyer, or the
unemployment office. We’re faced with changes that make our stomachs hurt and
our hearts ache and require more risk and faith than we’d like to expend. We
might even be on the road, following where God is leading, and the world keeps
throwing stones in our path. In these moments, death seems to be reality, while
resurrection seems an unlikely dream. The obstacles in front of us—and the
guards sent to protect them—appear too massive and too permanent.
But we are
not afraid! We are not afraid, for we know that Jesus, who was crucified, goes
ahead of us. We are not afraid, because Jesus, who was raised, is waiting for us
in Galilee. And Jesus, who loved us to the end—all the way to the cross—might just
meet us on the road for a little extra encouragement. And when he does, he will
be right on message, along with all the heavenly host, proclaiming “REJOICE!
And do not be afraid!”
Alleluia,
Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, alleluia!
