(Luke 24.1-12) (Easter Day)
19 March 2019 – © Neil Millar
He is risen in the morning,
he is risen from the dead;
he is laughter after sadness,
he is light when night has fled.
He has suffered, he has triumphed,
life is his alone to give:
as he gave it once he gives it
evermore, that we may live. — Jock Curle
Well, what a difference three days makes in our services at Easter. On Friday, the mood is sombre as we hear about the Son of God being hung out to dry, the God-man, Jesus, hanging on a cross and breathing his last. On Friday, our hearts are heavy and our prayers penitent as remember the events, the self-interest, callousness and compromise that put him there, and that continues to blight our world. On Saturday we sit with a corpse, with disappointment, grief and death. But today, it’s different. Today, with joy and relief, we sing of a great reversal – of laughter after sadness and light when night has fled. Today colour returns to the world, and possibility to our lives, because, we proclaim, Christ is risen.
That cry will be proclaimed cheerfully and confidently from thousands of churches and millions of voices all over the world this morning, but in our exuberance, let’s not forget that it was all more tentative and confusing on that first Easter morn, certainly as Luke describes it. It began early, with the women heading out after the Sabbath to place spices on the body tomb. When they arrive at the tomb, things are not as they antedate. The stone covering the entrance has been rolled aside, and when they stoop and peer in, they are confronted with emptiness – the body is not there. What’s happened? This unexpected absence causes immediate perplexity, their sad and seemingly settled world is suddenly stirred: Where is it? Who’s got the body? How will we find it? What are we going to do? While they’re contemplating this, the foundations are further shaken by an ‘angelic’ vision: ‘suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them’. Luke says they were terrified, and bow their faces to the ground. While this is happening, they get a question that jolts them even further: ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? … What? What are you talking about? And more: 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.’ And, in that moment, a wisp of a connection with the past. Yes! I remember, his strange comments about Jerusalem… and dying… and the third day??? No! Surely not, that’s im…possible? (turning from side to side) Where are they? The men? What’s happening? What…?? Next moment, they’re running, back to tell the others tell them what?? Something… Could it???
Understandably, for those still shattered by Friday’s failure, the agitated words of these women seem like ‘an idle tale’. They did not (could not) believe them. But then something in Peter stirs – he feels the hairs on the back of his neck, and his heart is beating in his chest… He gets up and runs out, heading for the tomb. When he arrives, it is as they described. He stoops panting and looks in, and sees the linen cloths lying by themselves. And as the text has it, ‘he went home, amazed at what had happened’.
But what has happened? At this stage, it’s more about a tantalising absence than a living presence. In Luke’s account, it’s not until later that anyone encounters anything, anyone tangible, and even then, it takes time for this reality to sink in.
Luke has two other parts to his resurrection account. The first, told only by Luke, concerns those two disciples walking to the nearby village of Emmaus. There’re talking about these events, and, Luke says, ‘Jesus himself came near and went with them’. It’s his first appearance, ‘but their eyes were kept from recognising him’. It’s a classic example of how expectation affects perception. They weren’t expecting to see Jesus, I mean they’re actually talking about his death, and this prevents them from recognising the signs. It also makes what unfolds here quite humorous. Jesus asks them what they’re talking about and they proceed to tell him what’s happened to him!! And they share their disappointment:
But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it’s now the third day since these things took place. Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him.
Their being with him but not recognising continues, but eventually, when they invite this ‘stranger’ in, and he breaks bread before them, the lights go on. But, as the comic element continues, as soon as they ‘see’ him he vanishes from their sight!! So, still there’s ambivalence.
Even so, these two can’t contain themselves. They race back to Jerusalem to tell the others, and this leads into part three of the unfolding.
By now it’s evening. Cleopas and his unnamed mate have returned and found the others and their story is being excitedly relayed. And, ‘while they’re talking about this’, Luke says, ‘Jesus himself stood among them and said, “Peace be with you”.’
Now, folks, we might expect this to be the clincher. Finally, he’s there, speaking in their midst! And yet, still things are confusing. ‘They were startled and terrified’, Luke says, and think they’re seeing a ghost. Jesus then goes to quite a bit of effort to convince them – he shows them his hands and feet (the scars of crucifixion). ‘Touch me and see’, he says, ‘for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.’ Good point, but still they struggle. ‘While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering’ is how Luke puts it (a phrase that may describe your own state). Jesus asks for something to eat. They give him a piece of broiled fish, he consumes it as they watch, and finally the penny seems to drop – it really is him, he really is alive!!
‘Thus it is written’, Luke concludes, ‘that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.’ Which is, in the end, the point of all this persuading – to turn confused, defeated disciples into witnesses. To give them confidence that God has said ‘Yes’ to the words and deeds of Jesus, confidence to begin living as he did and in so doing to live the resurrection in their own lives. ‘The glory of God is a human being fully alive’, St Irenaeus said in the second century. And really that’s the invitation for us today – to glorify God, to be witnesses of these things, by being fully alive. What does that look like? What does it look like in your life and mine – in circumstances that, let’s be honest, look less than ideal, as we struggle with ageing bodies, and worry about our children and grandchildren or parents, and feel anxious about the future of the planet? Well, it seems to me that even in the midst of all this, the resurrection invites us into the possibility of living unthreatenedly, undefendedly and graciously as Jesus did, being with all of life’s circumstances whole-heartedly and seeing in them (even the most difficult of them) the possibility of an ever more trustful connection with God. Which means a willingness to forgive – to forgive others, to forgive life for not being perfect, to be generous and open to joy. The daily outworking of this is never straightforward, but we do have each other, and a living God to call on, and hey, what else are we going to do with our one wild and precious life?
If you can pardon me mix-mastering my metaphors, to be a witness to these things is to live our circumstances (as challenging as they may be) listening for the music in the air and then joining with the chorus.
https://stninians.org.au/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/NM.Easter.2019.pdf