Luke 24:1-12
1 But on the first day of the
week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had
prepared. 2 They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3 but when they
went in, they did not find the body. 4 While they were perplexed about this,
suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. 5 The women were
terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them,
"Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has
risen. 6 Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, 7 that the
Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third
day rise again." 8 Then they remembered his words, 9 and returning from
the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. 10 Now it was
Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them
who told this to the apostles. 11 But these words seemed to them an idle tale,
and they did not believe them. 12 But Peter got up and ran to the tomb;
stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went
home, amazed at what had happened.
On our coffee table at home is a
simple, two-sided glass picture frame. On one side of the frame is one of
Sallie and my engagement pictures, taken by a friend of ours about seven years
ago. On the other side of the frame is a different sort of picture. It’s a
picture that was taken over the Fourth of July weekend of 2008 in San Antonio,
Texas: we’re standing in front of The Alamo. Now, I have to tell you, The Alamo
(for those of you who’ve never been) isn’t exactly what you’d expect—at least
it wasn’t what I was expecting.
For whatever reason, I was expecting
to be halfway to the desert, at least on the outskirts of San Antonio, looking
for this big, antique, stone building, scarred from its famous battle and years
of weathering in the South Texas sun. I was expecting to see the kind of
building John Wayne defended as Davy Crocket; I was thinking we’d drive up to a
wide, concrete parking lot, with a huge, tan, castle-looking structure in the
distance. What we found, however, was nothing like what I was expecting.
The morning we were going to visit
The Alamo we got dressed in comfortable walking clothes (I figured we’d need to
be comfortable to walk in the near-desert climate on the way to the site),
hopped in the car, and started following the brown road signs marking the way
to The Alamo. Well, before too long I realized we were driving in downtown San
Antonio (I remember thinking how strange it was that we would have to cut
through downtown…). But before long, we found ourselves parking between the
office buildings that rose up like giant saguaro (suh-wah-ro) cacti all over the city, and we continued following the
signs on foot. Then it just sort of snuck up on us: we turned the corner of a
construction-clogged city street to find ourselves almost directly in front of
an old, dust-colored building no higher than a two-story house. We found The
Alamo, stuck between the modern buildings of downtown San Antonio like a lost
remote control in the couch cushions. It wasn’t at all what I was expecting: it
was in the middle of the city and it seemed way too small, but it’s strange
when you find something you weren’t expecting and it changes your perspective.
You see, finding The Alamo in
downtown San Antonio among the polished steel, the glistening glass, the
paint-striped asphalt, and concrete sidewalks, immediately made me aware of the
reality that this modern city wasn’t always so modern. It made me greatly aware
that this little mission-turned-fortress must have indeed been something of a
miraculous battleground as Santa Anna as his troops laid siege for thirteen
days on the troops inside. I think if I had found what I expected to find—an
antique Texas relic drying on the edge of the wilderness—I may not have been so
captivated by its story. But you know, it really is something when you find
what you weren’t expecting and it changes your perspective.
I’m sure Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the
mother of James, and the other women with them were expecting something
completely different when, on the first day of the week, at early dawn,
they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. I’m
sure they expected to find in the darkness of early dawn, a heavy stone disk securely
sealing the entrance to the rock-hewn tomb. I’m sure they expected to ask for
help once they arrived since the men who had so closely followed Jesus in his
life have now scattered and are in hiding after his death. I’m sure they
expected to brace themselves for the stench of decomposition as they entered
the tomb to treat the corpse of their beloved friend and teacher they expected
to find inside. I’m sure they carried with them all kinds of expectations about
death, graves, corpses, and grief, but when they arrived at the tomb that
morning, they did not find what they expected to find…they found something else
entirely, and what they found changed their perspective, changed their lives.
Luke tells us “They
found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not
find the body.” The same Greek word is used there talking about what
the women found, εὗρον: they
expected to find (εὗρον), a stone blocking the way, and they expected to find (εὗρον) the
body of Jesus inside. But they found, instead, what they weren’t expecting: the
tomb was empty and the body of Jesus gone. Had someone taken the body? Were
they in the wrong place (it was dark after all)? Was this some kind of cruel
joke, a final rubbing of salt in the wound to his followers? Upon finding
anything but what they expected, the women “were perplexed about this.” But
before they had time to figure out what was going on, “suddenly two men in dazzling
clothes stood beside them”—this certainly isn’t what they were
expecting, because Luke records their response to this sudden appearance of
dazzling men in verse 5: “The women were terrified and bowed their
faces to the ground.” These unexpected, angelic figures speak to the
confused and frightened 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."
That’s all it took, a little
reminder of words they had heard along the way, and in a literary instant,
these women go from perplexed and terrified to being the first, joy-filled
proclaimers of the truth—“returning from the tomb, they told all this
to the eleven and to all the rest.” But there again, their story isn’t
what the elven and all the rest were expecting. After all, these were women in
the first-century and they were grief-stricken, so maybe they don’t have the
most credibility among a bunch of first-century Jewish men. In fact, Luke tells
us in verses 11 and 12: “But [the women’s] words seemed to them an
idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb.”
The men, hiding out in some undisclosed location, don’t believe the women, yet
there was something that caused Peter to run and “double-check.”
Now, I wonder what Peter expected to
find. Perhaps he expected to find what the women had expected to find earlier:
an intact tomb, the body of Jesus, three-days-dead, inside. Maybe, in the
clearer light of a later morning, Peter expected to discover the truth behind
what those women had claimed to see, perhaps he expected he might even discover
that they had indeed been at the wrong tomb all along. But when Peter arrived
at the tomb, “stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves.”
He didn’t see what he expected to see—all he saw were the linen grave cloths
and nothing else. “[T]hen
he went home, amazed at what had happened.” That’s all it took—one look
inside the tomb, not a personal appearance from Jesus himself, not some sort of
resurrection note in Jesus’ own post-death hand—one look, and Peter went from a
hiding, doubtful disciple, to an amazed witness. Peter didn’t find what he
expected: he found something different, and it changed his life.
In those first resurrection moments
of that first Resurrection Morning, the unexpected transformed perplexed,
terrified women into excited, sure witnesses. In those first resurrection moments
of that first Resurrection Morning, the unexpected transformed a denying,
doubtful disciple into an amazed apostle. That’s what resurrection moments are:
unexpected, transformative moments that can change our lives if we are
receptive to their truth. Peter, Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of
James, and the other women were all transformed by these resurrection
moments—moments that revealed to them the truth that Christ is who he said he
is, moments that might otherwise leave one perplexed, terrified, or amazed.
Of course, these sorts of
resurrection moments still happen in our presence today. They are those
unexpected, transformative moments that might otherwise leave us scratching our
heads wondering, “Why?” They are not moments surrounding an empty, borrowed
tomb, but those moments of undeserved kindness: when one offers to help pay for
the groceries of a total stranger in line at the market, when the piano player
at my home church slips a twenty into my hand after church just because she
wants to. They aren’t moments highlighted by the presence of a once-dead corpse,
but moments marked by the very real presence of the body of Christ: when a congregation
comes together to rebuild its community and help to feed hungry children, when
a body of believers unites in order to make sure the elderly in its community
are loved and looked after, when a church is more than brick walls a and a whit
steeple. These resurrection moments don’t always happen in the dim light of
early dawn, but they happen in the cold nights when a warm blanket and a hot
meal are offered to the one who needs it, when friends and family gather around
a child the day she has to lay her mother in the ground.
Resurrection moments are happening
all around us, every day. They are those moments when the reality of the living
Christ is made known by the testimony—the words and actions—of those who
believe that Jesus is who he said he is. Because you see, the great thing about
this retelling of Jesus’ resurrection in Luke’s gospel is that the women who
first saw the empty tomb—a resurrection moment if ever there was one!—ran to
tell others. They ran to create more resurrection moments as they shared the
good news of Christ’s resurrection. We are called to do the same. We are called
to make the resurrection of Christ a reality in the lives of those around
us—and not only through the retelling of the story of that first Easter, but
through the way we live our lives for others.
We make Christ’s resurrection a
reality—creating resurrection moments—when we go out of our way, sacrificing
our time, money, or resources, in order to bring food, comfort, joy, or love to
someone else. We create resurrection moments when we hear the bad news of the
world—poverty, sickness, hatred, injustice—and we seek the Good News to the
world by striving to right those wrongs. We create resurrection moments when we
gather together to relive the story, when we gather around the bread and the
cup, for while we eat and drink to commemorate Christ suffering and death, we
eat and drink together with our brothers and sisters throughout the world and
the ages of time. And when we, the Body of Christ, come together around the
table, Jesus is alive in our midst—it is truly a resurrection moment.
Let us pray…
Eternal God,
Almighty Father, Everlasting Spirit, Risen Son, on this day when we celebrate
your victory over sin and the grave, we come to the table for this resurrection
moment in this place. We ask, Holy Spirit, that you stir among us; may we
respond to those moments in our lives where Christ’s resurrection has been made
real to us. May you bless this time, bless this bread, bless this cup. And help
us, O God, as we live between Christ’s resurrection and our own, to create
resurrection moments along the way that speak to the truth of our salvation
through your life, death, and resurrection. In the name of the resurrected Lord
Jesus we pray. Amen.
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