Colossians 3:1-4, 12-17
Matthew 28:1-10
Easter is called a “moveable feast.” That is, the date of Easter moves around every year. We celebrate the incarnation—God coming to us in Jesus—at Christmas and we know that is always on December 25. We celebrate the resurrection on Easter and that is…Well, Easter changes, but it is always—say it with me—the first Sunday after the first full moon falling on or after the vernal equinox.
The first day of spring. A full moon. A Sunday. We need them all in order to determine the date of Easter. This means that some years Easter will be in late April and we will be surrounded by daffodils and budding trees.
This year the first day of spring was Thursday, the full moon arrived on Friday night, and so today is Easter Sunday. It’s one of those Easters that comes with gray clouds and chilly winds. But enjoy it—the last time Easter fell this early was 1918 and it will be well over one hundred years before it falls this early again.
Warm April or chilly March—either way, it’s Easter.
It is our yearly celebration of the resurrection of Jesus, the time when Christians announce that Christ is risen indeed, that the reality above and beyond everything else is that God is redeeming all of creation—and, yes, you and I are included. We find ourselves raised up, standing tall, given clear sight and a new spirit, and sent forth to bring new creation into our world.
Easter cannot—will not—be nailed down. Because there is no set date, we are reminded each year that Easter can happen any time. As Christians we get together to worship each Sunday throughout the year. Every Sunday is a little Easter, really—a weekly celebration of the astonishing good news of the resurrection.
Resurrection happens anytime you discover God’s power working in you to bring you out of death and into life.
When you discover God’s grace to forgive, even though you’ve been hurt and actually kind of enjoy holding a grudge…
When you discover God’s strength to live by your deepest values instead of selling out to the highest bidder…
When you discover God’s courage to stand up for yourself, for others, to seek justice, to do the right thing rather than what’s convenient…
Resurrection is happening regardless of the time of year or the day of the week.
Resurrection can happen at any time. Easter is a moveable feast.
We, too, are moved. We are moved from the past into God’s future.
We will not find Jesus in the past. The story of the Easter tells us that where we once thought he was, where he once seemed locked in place, Jesus is not to be found. He is not there.
It’s daybreak on Sunday. Two women, Mary of Magdalene and the “other Mary,” the mother of James and Joseph, arrive at the tomb.
A few days earlier, on a Friday, they watched from a distance as Jesus died.
They watched as a rich man named Joseph, from Arimathea, took the lifeless body, wrapped it in a clean linen sheet and laid it in his own unused tomb.
They watched as he rolled a large stone against the entrance.
Now they arrive at the tomb once more.
What happens astonishes them and us:
The earth shakes,
an angel appears
rolls the stone away
and sits down upon it.
The angel—remember, the word means “messenger”—tells these women: “Do not be afraid.” Right.
You remember from the Christmas story that angels are always telling people: “Do not be afraid.” And yet, when someone—even an angel—says “Don’t be afraid,” we naturally start looking around for danger.
We know, after all, that there are plenty of reasons to be afraid—and the arrival of a messenger from God is not the least of those.
Maybe angels know something we—with all our fears—don't know. Maybe they have a sense that God in fact does love us, does care for us. Maybe they have a sense even in those instances in which we would most naturally be afraid, we might discover God at work—even through the most unlikely of people and events.
Maybe they’re onto something.
But I'd be shaking.
Listen to the message that comes to the women: “I know you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here. He has been raised. . . Come and see where his lifeless body once was.”
Does Jesus seem gone from your life?
Has faith become like a visit to a grave site—lifeless, a memory, a thing of the past?
The grave cannot hold the risen Christ. Neither can our worn-out images and ideas. Richard Bloesch gave me an article from the New York Times last Sunday. The headline read: “Three Scholars Agree, Resurrection Is Often Misunderstood.” And I thought: “Well, duh.” We don’t necessarily understand resurrection. Easter invites us to get up to date, to find gain new understanding, to consider in new ways what the Resurrected One might mean for us.
In a world threatened by global warming, the risen Christ is a sign of God’s renewal, calling us to renew the earth;
In a world ripped apart by hatred, violence, terror and war, the risen Christ is a sign that God overcomes evil and death, calling us to bring love and life and light to all nations;
In your own life this day, however calm, however tumultuous, the risen Christ is a sign of God’s abiding presence, calling us to bring our best to each encounter with other human beings, struggling and rejoicing as we do.
Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid to look at Jesus Christ in new ways.
The women come to look at the tomb. They see a lot: an angel, an empty cave. But they do not see the risen Christ. “He is not here.”
The first step toward resurrection is recognizing that Jesus is not among the dead. He is not to be found in the past. Look at the tomb: Jesus is not there. Easter moves us from the dead past into God’s future.
So I invite you to open your ears, open your hearts, and listen to a new language—the language of possibility and potential. Resurrection begins with a message, not with a body.
This is good news, because that body thing is hard to believe—not impossible, not ridiculous, but hard. We know, as people two thousand years ago knew, that dead people do not rise. Your faith might be shaky. You may have no faith at all.
But we can all listen.
We can listen to the message: “He has been raised from the dead and is going on before you.”
Not where we once were
Not where we now are
But before us—farther down the road
We might yet encounter the risen Christ.
Listen to the message. Let it speak to your heart.
The message is this: Christ lives on. If we seek him in the realm of the dead we are told: “He is not here. He is risen.”
We are invited to journey out of the predictable, dying world of anger, greed, resentment, and bitterness. We are invited to journey toward possibility, toward potential, toward wonder knowing that Christ is going on before us.
This is the good news of resurrection: that God is always bringing forth the new and the unexpected.
The cross speaks of God standing with us in the flux of events—and God is a sure presence in difficult times.
The resurrection speaks of God’s being always ahead of events and therefore being the great ground of hope for the world.
At every turn God opens new possibilities for us. At every turn new life is offered. At every turn we can, if we choose, love and be loved. At every turn there is wonder and miracle if we live with eyes open. This is not the language of the tomb.
Possibility is the language of resurrection.
But all of this is only a tale told of something long ago and far away. Unless…
Unless we take the challenge of resurrection possibility and let our lives be changed by the power of the living God.
Christ died and was raised. But Paul reminds us: “You have died.” And therefore he asks: “Were you not raised to life with Christ?”
If Easter is to be more than a day that moves around on the calendar each year;
If Easter is to be more than a time for new clothes, a time for family gatherings, an opportunity to hope that spring will not be far off—as much as we need all of these;
If Easter is to be a time of resurrection, of right spirits, clean hearts, and new life
It will be so because we live challenged by resurrection.
The New Testament scholar and Anglican bishop, N.T. Wright, put it this way: “The resurrection of Jesus means that the present time is shot through with great significance. What is done to the glory of God in the present is genuinely building for God’s future. Acts of justice and mercy, the creation of beauty, and the celebration of communities of kindness and forgiveness—these all matter, and they matter forever.
“Take away the resurrection and these things are important for the present but irrelevant for the future and so even their present significance fades.”
The challenge of resurrection is to build now the things that will last into God’s new age. Part of this challenge is the calling to a fully human life, reflecting the image of God. This is made possible by Jesus’ victory on the cross and is energized by the Spirit of the risen Christ present within communities like this congregation and people like you.
The resurrection becomes a tangible fact in a very different way from that which we would expect. Not by direct empirical verification but by the radical transformation of this community into a fellowship of justice, truth, compassion, and reconciliation, is the presence and power of the risen Jesus known.
So Paul tells the community of people willing to follow the risen Christ: “Be forbearing with one another, and forgiving, where any of you has cause for complaint: you must forgive as the Lord forgave you. . . And be filled with gratitude. Let the message of Christ dwell among you in all its richness.”
The women hear the resurrection message, run from the tomb, and find Jesus there in their path.
The disciples make their way to Galilee, as the women told them to do, and there they too see the risen Christ.
We will not find Christ by staying where we are.
We will not find Christ by visiting the tombs of the past.
But if we get up and move
We will see the risen Christ in our midst, in the midst of life all around us. We will discover wonders and miracles unexpected and undeserved.
Christ is risen. He is not here. He is going before us. Let us follow.