Sermon: “He Is Not Here, but Has Risen”

Text: Luke 24:1-12

Easter Sunday (C)

April 4, 2010

Scripture introduction.  Our second reading this morning is from the final chapter of Luke’s Gospel,[1] his version of the events of that first Easter morning.  Each of the four gospels tells this story, as well as the apostle Paul a little earlier in that same 15^th chapter of First Corinthians that Alan just read.  As anyone can easily see, the versions all differ slightly from one another—not surprising, perhaps, for accounts that, in the case of the gospels, would not have been written until about fifty years after the events in question.  For scholars, there is much to be learned by analyzing the differences in the accounts, but for the rest of us I think it is more helpful to focus on what they have in common.  In fact the gospels agree on the important points. [2]  In all the gospels, the process of resurrection is not described, only that it happened and that the tomb was empty.  They agree that the disciples were not expecting Jesus’ resurrection, so much that the first reports of the resurrection were doubted.  In all the gospels, the resurrection was first disclosed to women who visited the tomb; and the first clue that something had happened was the stone, which had been rolled away.  Then angels appeared.  Then Jesus himself appeared to “a variety of people,” individually and in groups, “males and females.”  Finally, except for Mark’s Gospel, in which the story ends just after the angels announce the resurrection to the women, the gospels record how the disciples went from initial doubt to an “unshakable conviction in Jesus’ resurrection,” one that would change their lives and alter the course of human history.

of the Apostlesis only volume one of a two-volume work.  The second volume is the Book of Acts.rd how the disciples went from dSermon.   I’m sure that all of us have treasured family photographs.  Amanda and I are like the couple in the comic strip, “Cathy,” who with many photographs digitally stored in cameras and on memory chips are behind schedule in getting them edited, printed, and in some usable form.  But we do have some, and we love them!  Not too long ago, we popped some of our old tapes into the VCR and enjoyed seeing again some of the scenes from Lee’s childhood.  I think maybe there was even an Easter egg hunt in there somewhere.  When we see these family photographs or video recordings, it is almost like re-living the experience.  It’s not that we don’t remember Lee when he was young (and we were young!).  Of course we do, but the photographs help us re-establish an emotional, personal connection with the events themselves.

I sometimes think that faith and memory are closely intertwined.  Most of us, don’t you think, have had what we might call “high moments” in our faith—times when the truth of Jesus’ teachings, of his amazing sacrifice on our behalf, and of his glorious resurrection have seemed powerful and unmistakable.  When faith is strong like this, we know for sure that God intends only good for us[3] and that nothing could ever separate us from God’s love in Jesus Christ.[4]  However, life presses in.  Our everyday concerns distract us.  Things happen to us that seem unfair, out of our control, and beyond fixing.  We become anxious and sometimes afraid.  And we forget.  We lose—at least for a time—the certainty we once experienced in our lives of faith.

Now please don’t misunderstand me.  For sure, our faith response to God’s love goes much deeper than our emotions.  There is an intellectual component of faith that can keep us afloat even when our emotions don’t seem to be supporting us.  And I believe there is also a behavioral part of faith: the more we act as faithful people do, the more we engage in deeds of love and service to others, the more we pattern our lives on the example of Jesus, the more our faith is sustained.  Yet even with our intellect and our behavior going in the right direction, still we long for the emotional, personal connection to our Savior.  If only we could pull out a picture of the real Jesus or watch a video of his resurrection, then (as with a family photograph) the connection would be re-established.

Consider the women in our scripture passage today—Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Mary the mother of James, and the other women from Galilee.  Like the Twelve Disciples, they, too, had heard Jesus’ preaching and teaching as he traveled through their home region.  By providing food and monetary support—Mary Magdalene may have been a wealthy woman—these women had supported and often accompanied Jesus and the other disciples on their journeys.  Jesus had taught his disciples about how he had to go to Jerusalem, to be accused, to be tried and crucified, and how he would be raised on the third day.[5]  We presume that the women had heard these lessons, too.  But as the gospels faithfully record, they did not expect a resurrection any more than did the men.  They needed help in remembering what he had told them.  And God provided the help—in the form of two angels.  (In our passage today Luke calls them “men in dazzling clothes,” but in verse 23 they are referred to clearly as angels.)  The word for angel in both Hebrew and Greek means “messenger, one who is sent.”  They were sent by God to help these women remember—to make the connection between what they already knew and what had just happened to them.

I gave this sermon the title from scripture, “He Is Not Here, but Has Risen.”  I should have added to the title the next word that the angels spoke—“He Is Not Here, but Has Risen.  Remember . . . .”[6]  The women were perplexed by the empty tomb.  The empty tomb by itself did not create faith for them.  They could not on their own power create the faith that they needed.  It required an act of God, the sending of messengers to help them make the right connections.  And when the angels had reminded them of Jesus’ teachings, Luke tells us, “then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest.”  With God’s help, they grasped the truth of the resurrection with their spiritual intuition.  Even without having seen Jesus, they became the first humans for whom it “clicked.”  Not only did they know intellectually, but now they also believed emotionally and personally. 

Aren’t there times in our lives when our spiritual intuition needs a boost?  Occasionally we need to be reminded, don’t we, of the truth of the gospel.  When we feel lost and alone, we need to remember that the risen Christ promised to be “with [us] always to the end of the age.”[7]  When we stand above the grave of a loved one or when we contemplate our own death, we need to remember (as Alan just read) that we have hoped in Christ not only for this life, but also for the life to come; that as we all die like Adam, so in Christ we all will be made alive; and that at the last death itself will be destroyed.[8]  One day our tombs, too, will be empty.  When the burdens of caring for others seem overwhelming, we need to remember that Jesus’ yoke is easy, and his burden is light.  When the anxious imperatives of this world push upon us, we need to remember how gloriously God clothes the lilies, which neither toil nor spin.

I mentioned during the homily on Maundy Thursday that our worship on Palm Sunday, on Maundy Thursday, on Good Friday, and on Easter is an exercise in collective memory.  These and all occasions for worship are times when, together, we remember and say what we believe.  Through scripture, through song, through prayer, and through the testimony of fellow Christians, we hear the teachings of Christ, the story of God’s plan of salvation for the world, and the hope of all our tomorrows.  Our community’s memories can be found in scripture, primarily, but also in such works as Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus, the visionary poetry of William Blake, the writings of Augustine of Hippo, and certainly also in the humble acts of faith and caring of ordinary Christians.  Especially when we are together in worship, the Holy Spirit moves among us and speaks to our hearts the truth of the gospel.  Our spiritual intuition is strengthened; and through the grace of God, faith happens as we hear the story again.  The emotional connections that inspire us as Christians are nurtured when we are together affirming the truth of our faith.  It’s the closest thing we have to a photograph of Jesus. 

If we follow this line of thinking all the way out we also realize that we, collectively, are “angels”—messengers—to each other.  We remind each other of our emotional, personal connection to a loving God.  And if we are messengers to each other, we also are messengers to the world.  The Greek roots are the same—“angel”/”ev-angel-ism.”  As Christians, it is our joyful service to be the world’s angels—to tell people we meet that Jesus’ resurrection has changed everything.  How about it?  Could you be an angel to someone you know?  Could you invite them to be a part of our memory-making process?  Could you help them see the story of Jesus in a way that causes it, finally, to “click” for them emotionally so that they experience Jesus not only in their minds, but also in their hearts?

“He is not here, but has risen.  Remember . . . .”