Last Saturday morning, I received a phone call from friends in Ely saying a dear, young mother I knew up there had a recurrence of her cancer. She survived breast cancer earlier last year only to now see her cancer return to consume her liver and painfully penetrate her bones. She was in intense pain when I arrived at St. Mary’s Hospital in Duluth to see her. She was resolute in her faith in God’s wonderful ability to heal her, yet also fully aware of her serious situation. With a husband in prison, all the typical struggles of single motherhood and now a full year of sickness behind her, she is not wealthy. While she has some family in the area, the needs of her two little children are constantly on her mind.What do I say to her on Easter Sunday morning?
I say to her the same thing I say to all of us: this story (our story) is about life!
On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. In their fright the women bowed down with 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; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: 'The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.' " Then they remembered his words. When they came back from the tomb, they told all these things to the Eleven and to all the others. It was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the others with them who told this to the apostles. But they did not believe the women, because their words seemed to them like nonsense. Peter, however, got up and ran to the tomb. Bending over, he saw the strips of linen lying by themselves, and he went away, wondering to himself what had happened.
This story is about life! This story is about the life of Jesus! This story is about finally finding our lives! The precious women in this story beautifully reflect our story back at us…
I Am Religious
These women are religious. They begin their day doing religious duties. They aren’t expecting any surprises or miracles. They know how life works. They know what comes next. They know what sights, sounds and smells accompany death and they are looking for death. They are expecting to find the horribly brutalized and dead body of a teacher they loved.
I Am Visited
But they are visited by life. They do not find what they expected. The stone is rolled away and ugly death is not where death is politely supposed to be. Their religious duties get interrupted by a gleaming visitation of lightning. Religion, ritual and routine get tossed out the window. God shows up in the room and all the plans and schedules go right out the window. We’re left standing in the empty tomb wondering what in the world we’re supposed to do now with all these silly spices we carried to church. When God shows up, religion just looks goofy…
I Am Confused
I am confused. Religion cannot explain what we’re experiencing. Religion cannot roll away big rocks and scare away mean soldiers. Religion cannot heal our scourging wounds and empty crusty grave clothes. Religion is completely unfamiliar with gleaming, glorious figures appearing in the foggy, Easter morning darkness. I am confused by all this because I am not expecting to find life in nasty places. I am confused because I thought I knew how life was supposed to work. I am confused when my Savior gives away His life for no apparent reason and I am doubly confused when He has the audacity to not stay dead. I am wildly confused.
I Am Reminded
But then I am reminded. Oh my goodness, then my godly visitors remind me Jesus said all this stuff was going to happen. They are right! The Master did say stuff about all this! My mind begins to race as I remember how Jesus said, “the Son of man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.” My mind races back to all those moments at the feet of the Master, all those strange moments when He confused us with gloomy talk about His body and blood shed for us. My mind flies back to all those ancient words from the prophets Jesus quoted to us, those words that got religious leaders so angry and agitated. Oh my goodness! My brain is on fire! My tired heart is strangely burning and now consumed with happy hope! Could it possibly be true? Could this all have been part of the plan? Is it possible that, once again, in this awful, twisted, confusing moment, Almighty God has something in store “beyond all we could possibly ask or imagine?” Could it be that this awful, religious day that was death, drudgery and despair just a moment ago is now about life?
I Am Witness
Yes; yes it is possible! And I am witness to these things.
Just exactly like these women, considered unreliable witnesses in the ancient world, I too must happily become a wonderfully and persistently nonsensical witness. I must become a wildly biased and unbalanced source! I don’t care if people call me a liar. I don’t care if even good Peter and the powerful people won’t believe us right away. I don’t care if my testimony will never be heard in court. I don’t care if religion has no place for what I’ve just experienced.
I know the hope that is within me. I know in whom I must now believe! I know the story I must tell. I know the soldiers are gone from here, the tomb and graveclothes are empty and the gleaming angels real. I know the truth of what I have been reminded here today. These are good words. There is iron in these great words of truth. There is life here!
I am witness to these things. I will live and die as a witness to these things.
I Am Alive
And I will do so because I am alive now. Oh my goodness, this whole thing makes sense now. This story has a cross, but this story is not about crucifixion and death. My story has a cross, but my story is not about death. I died with Jesus and now my tomb is empty too!
It doesn’t matter if I spend the rest of my life entombed in some prison cell – I am alive now. It doesn’t matter if I too am tortured and killed for believing these things – I am alive. It doesn’t matter if the economic systems of the world come falling down around me – I am alive. While I enjoy the pleasures of this world as much as the next guy, I know there is ultimately no life in them. It doesn’t matter who gets elected or driven from power; how criminal, corrupt or polluted the world around me becomes – I am alive. I have life now. I know my life will have suffering, difficulty and death just as Jesus said it would, but I am still alive in it all. Jesus came that I might have life and have it to the full. I can face all the problems and pain of this world with life in my hands. I can face any sort of death with the life I now have in my hands. With all the awful, challenging problems around us, I can now finally be a meaningful, powerful force for good in this world because of the wonderful life I hold in my hands. I can joyously put my arms around this world in a way I never have been able to because…
This story is not about religion, ritual and death. This story is about life.
This story is about Almighty God intentionally choosing to release each and every one of us into a life wonderful beyond our wildest dreams. A life filled with suffering and sadness just as any other life (sometimes even more so!), but a life nonetheless able to transcend all that because of the empty tomb that has already transcended all that. A life that never gives up!
This story is about life.
May we know life this day! Like these dear ladies at the tomb, may we be surprised by life! May the powerful life within us make any and all other attempts at religion just look goofy!
Amen.
