“Earth-shaking News”
By Rev. Jennifer Christenson
For Christus Lutheran Church, Greenville, Wis.
April 20, 2014
Easter Sunday – Matthew 28:1-10
Matthew’s recollection of the resurrection is a wild ride. It has an earthquake, an angel descending and rolling away the stone, guards passing out, Mary and Mary getting the most amazing message ever, then running off to share it, only to have Jesus jump out from behind a tree saying, “Helllooooo!” (well, that’s how I picture it anyway), and then running some more to share the good news.
It’s a wild ride. Truly, truly each of the gospel-writers adds their own flair to the re-telling of the events of the resurrection. Although, that said, none of them give us a play-by-play of the event itself, as much as we might like to know how that all went down. Jesus awakening with a gasp, yawning, stretching, picking at his scabs for a minute…
They do, however, all give plenty of information about what went on outside the tomb and Matthew, as noted, is no slouch in that matter.
For the details he recalls signal to us in no uncertain terms that something major, something amazing, something epic has just taken place.
The ground shakes with an earthquake. An angel, in dazzling, glowy, snowy magnificence, descends and flicks away the stone and then plops down atop it as if to say, “How do you like me now??”
Truly, there may be no better way to introduce the resurrection of Jesus than that – with the earth shaking, the ground trembling beneath our feet.
I say that because an earthquake is, truly, an unbelievably unsettling experience. I know, I was in one once. I served my pastoral internship in the state of Washington in the city of Everett, which is just north of Seattle. I happened to be out there the year of the Ash Wednesday earthquake, in February of 2001. It’s a moment I’ll never forget.
We were sitting in a Sunday School room on the ground floor of the church, having a very pleasant book study. It was just me, another pastor from the area, and the pastor who was my internship supervisor. We were going along when the windows started to rattle. We assumed that it was just a big truck in the parking lot and gave it no thought…until the windows kept rattling, and then started rattling harder, with more urgency.
And then, and this is the part that will always stick with me, my internship supervisor says, “Oh, an earthquake.” Like one might say, “Oh, it’s raining.”
And I’m like, “Oh………AN EARTHQUAKE????!!!!!!”
Thankfully the other two had been through this before and so we evacuated the building (some of us more calmly than others) and made sure that the preschool children and their teachers got out as well. It was when we got outside though that the most unsettling part happened. Having been born and raised in the Midwest, I am accustomed to standing on ground that pretty well stays put. That day, on the sidewalk, it wasn’t so much that things were shaking as they were roiling. It felt like being on a boat on rough waters…only we were on dry land, standing outside the church building. Where I come from “terra firma” means just that – firm ground. Now, nowhere felt safe, because if you can’t count on the ground to hold you up, what can you count on?
Mary and Mary make their way to see the tomb of Jesus. They go to observe, to mourn, to have a few sad moments in peace before heading back to the hardship of life without him.
They go…when suddenly, Mary Magdalene says to Mary, “Oh, an earthquake….” And the ground shakes, and the angel descends, and the stone is rolled away, and Jesus…well, Jesus wasn’t there.
The stone was rolled away, the angel invited them to step over the passed out guards and take a peek for themselves and see…there’s nobody in there. The tomb is empty. He is not here! You were looking for the dead Jesus, the crucified Jesus, the defeated Jesus. Well, good luck finding that guy, because he is so not here. He is risen, he is risen indeed!!
Now go, don’t be afraid, go and tell the rest of the gang because really this news is simply too good to keep to yourselves.
The earth quaked under their feet and just like that, nothing could ever be same for Mary and Mary ever again. Things they counted on to be true, like the dead staying dead, were no longer true. Just a moment before they had lived, moved and had their being in a world where evil won, sin ruled the day, and death had the last word.
Now, a mere shake, rattle and roll later, they lived in a world where angels descended out of the dawn-dark sky, tombs were opened, and death had been conquered for once and for always. Jesus is risen.
How quickly the world changed for Mary Magdalene and that other Mary, not Magdalene, that day. And presumably for the disciples too, once these two women finally reached them with the astounding, angel-delivered message that Christ is risen, risen indeed.
They went there that day, not expecting, at all, what happened. Who expects an earthquake, after all? Who expects a lightning-bright angel to show up and start talking to you? They expected the status quo. Silence and death. A closed tomb. The final, bitter chapter of Jesus’ story, which had begun with such hope and promise. They expected to go, look, mourn, and leave, their hearts unchanged, that is, their hearts still heavy and broken and full of grief.
And truly, that is a state of being we in our lifetimes know all too well. Many, if not all of us, have been in that very place of grief and hopelessness. That very place of feeling as though death, in all of its forms, be it actual death, or illness, or the loss of a cherished relationship, or the loss of a job, or the loss of some future dream or hope for ourselves or those we love, or the death that is sin, cutting us off from God, cutting us off from those we love.
We have been to that place, that place of feeling as though death and darkness and guilt have won. We have been to that place, rattling around in the pre-dawn dark, expecting only to mourn a little and go away still broken-hearted, still broken-souled, still aching, and unforgiven, and dead.
But then, then the windows begin to rattle. Just a little, and then more urgently. The ground begins to shake beneath our feet as it did beneath the Marys’ feet that fateful morning. The ground begins to shake as we hear proclaimed to us once again in water, Word, bread, wine, that God has yet one more surprise in store for all of us. He is risen, he is risen indeed.
Meaning that no matter what, no matter how dark the night, no matter how broken the heart or the life, no matter how dead we have become… There is nowhere, nothing that can separate us from the love and hope and resurrection life that God has given us in Christ Jesus.
Too often, like Mary and Mary, we look for the crucified Jesus, the one who was, but we can’t quite experience as “is” and “ever shall be”.
Thanks be to God that the crucified one, the one we seek, he is not there in the tomb, he has been raised and is going before us, just as he went before Mary and Mary and the rest of the disciples. He is going before us, leading us out of the darkness of sin and despair and into the light of resurrection hope and promise and purpose.
Verse 10, where our reading ended today, as it turns out, is not the end of the resurrection story. It goes on to share that Jesus did meet up with his disciples in Galilee, and gave them not only the hope and joy of seeing him in all his resurrected awesomeness, but also gave them a mission: Go, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and, I will be with you until the end of the age.
The story leaves us with purpose and a promise. Make disciples – share this awesome news that resurrection is for real, that life eternal begins now, even on this side of the grave, every time we rise up and proclaim “He is risen!” and trust that that means we can be raised too. Make disciples, and trust that Jesus goes with us, every step of the way.
Even when the ground feels shaky beneath our feet, even when things seem chaotic and out of control. Jesus is there, risen, triumphant, and going on ahead, leading us to the bright, glorious, resurrected future he has created for us.
Can you hear those windows rattling? Christ is risen, he is risen indeed. Alleluia!! Amen
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