Those
who are regular parishioners at Emmanuel Church, and those who visit us often
for big festival days—like Easter and Christmas—know that I am a major Star Wars fan. They know because I talk
about it lots. In fact, I think some parishioners even place bets on whether (or
how often) I will mention Star Wars
in my holiday sermons. I don’t do it every Sunday, just so you know, but
holidays somehow bring out my youthful enthusiasm. So, if you made such a bet
this year, you definitely won. And since the next movie—The Last Jedi—is coming out at Christmastime this year, you can
place your bets early that I won’t be able to restrain myself, and will be
talking about it again then. Almost certainly
Well,
the reason I mention Star Wars this
morning—beyond the fact that an exciting new trailer was released on Friday, along
with some behind the scenes photos of the filming, including some of our
beloved late Princess Leia—besides all that, is because this morning’s Easter
gospel passage from St. Matthew sounds to me like it comes directly out of a
George Lucas script, with dramatic special effects created by Industrial Light
and Magic: a great earthquake; the appearance of an angel, as bright as
lightning; guards shaking and becoming like dead men; and the women looking on
in stunned awe and wonder.
It’s
a scene that would fit in any contemporary sci fi movie. And yet, as reported
in the gospel, it is a story nearly 2,000 years old. So, either the author,
Matthew the evangelist, had a spectacular imagination—even without the aid of
movie special effects—or he was describing in the only way he could the
phenomenal experience at the tomb on Easter morning. Personally, I tend to
think it was the latter. It wasn’t just his especially vivid imagination at
work here. Resurrection wasn’t something that someone just made up a long time
ago and described in dramatic fashion. Rather, instead, it was a new, powerful,
and truly earth-shaking kind of reality that many, many friends of Jesus, like
the women there at the tomb, experienced as really real, even if the whole
story was unbelievable and even preposterous to others.
Unfortunately,
though, sometimes as time passes we can get caught up or tripped up in the
fantastic language and imagery of spectacle, and we wonder if it could possibly
be true—in the same way that we easily dismiss a science fiction movie as
thrilling to watch, but very far from the reality we know. For example, I’ve
never seen any dazzling, lightning bright angels, any more than I’ve actually
seen Darth Vader. And I definitely haven’t seen my loved ones come back to life,
much as I miss them and want to have them here with me again. So, then this
Easter magic, is it really real, or is it a fanciful dream, or is it maybe just
an impossible wish?
Obviously,
the resurrection of Jesus is not something that we can prove in an empirical or
scientific way. The first Easter was much too long ago for that. And besides,
you can’t really prove matters of faith anyway—because they are just that,
matters of faith. What’s more, all four gospels describe the resurrection
somewhat differently, if you set them side by side—Matthew’s version is by far
the most dramatic, with the earthquake and angel appearing like lightning—but
they each seek to put into words that are ultimately too small and limited an
experience, a reality, that probably was and is beyond words or adequate
explanation.
You
may have noticed that this time of year there are always TV specials that seek
to prove or disprove that something in the Bible happened. I even recently read
an article in the British newspaper the Guardian
which dealt with whether Jesus was even a real person—apparently 40% of the
adult British population question whether Jesus really lived. Despite this
skepticism, the overwhelming evidence is that Jesus was real—which is not news
to any of us here this morning. Though, sometimes the finer details his life
can be elusive.
In
any case, while all of these investigations can most definitely be interesting,
I think they tend to miss the greater point in the biblical narrative. They get
so bogged down in whether and how something was possible that they fail to
recognize that the whole purpose of such stories is to reflect upon the belief
that God was and is active in the world, and in particular that God was and is
active in the lives of ordinary people, in the lives of people just like us.
What
we know, beyond the earthquake, the lightning bright angel, and the divine special
effects, is that belief in the resurrection, belief in the life-changing and even
world-changing miracle of Easter has encouraged, sustained, and propelled
people of faith for 2000 years—from the women at the tomb early on the first
Easter morning, all the way to us today. Comfort and encouragement, empowerment
and liberation, hope and new life are all the hallmarks of this fantastic day.
What
the miracle of Easter tells us is that the God we believe in is more powerful
than death. The miracle of Easter tells us that the God we believe in can and
will and does overcome evil with new and abundant life. The miracle of Easter
tells us that there is nothing more powerful than the love and life of God—not
the cross, not the mightiest empire on earth, not the power of sin, not our own
wayward desires and failings. Nothing. What’s more, this mighty, powerful resurrection
is not something that God did once for Jesus a long time ago, while the rest of
us wait and wait and wait. If it were just that, it wouldn’t have much meaning
at all.
No,
what happened on that first Easter morning was really just the beginning. It
was the opening chapter, or maybe the first scene, in a powerful, dynamic,
living story—a living story that God continues to write and direct, sometimes without
so many special effects, but in real human lives, in lives just like ours. Jesus’
resurrection was just the beginning of a new age of life and love, of
liberation and empowerment. But, like the women at the tomb, it is up to us to
share the good news of this resurrection. It is up to us to witness to its
power and earth-shaking truth. It is even up to us to make resurrection real.
We
do that, we make resurrection real, by rising ourselves. By rising from the
stone-cold tombs that we create and too often call home. We make resurrection
real by living—fully, abundantly, and freely. We make resurrection real by
giving ourselves over to God’s love: a love so great that it was willing to die
for us, even as we, like Jesus, share God’s love in full measure. We make
resurrection real by being, by truly being, the living and breathing Body of
Christ in a world that desperately needs us, in a world that desperately needs
the life-shaking, world-shaking, liberating, empowering hope of resurrection
faith now more than ever. We make resurrection real by knowing and testifying
to the fact that nothing can separate us from the love of God—no government, no
cross, no illness, no poverty, no evil, no death. Nothing.
That’s
what resurrection meant 2000 years ago, on that first Easter morning, and it’s
what it means even still, even now, even today. The special effects—earthquakes
and dazzling, lightning bright angels—are dramatic, a nice touch to make us sit
up and take notice. But they are not the real thing. The real thing is life.
New life. Abundant life. Liberated life. The real thing is your life. It’s my
life. It’s Jesus’ life. Life lived in and with God.
Be
that life today. Make Easter real today. Make resurrection real.
But the angel said to the women, “Do not
be afraid; 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.” So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and
ran to tell his disciples.
Let’s
join them as they run and shout, with our lives, Alleluia! Christ is risen.
Amen.
© The Rev. Matthew P.
Cadwell, PhD
