The Resurrection of Jesus from the Dead

Text: Luke 21:1-12

Grace to you and peace from God our father and the Lord Jesus Christ, risen from the dead.

Having heard the story told by Mary, and Joanna, and Mary the mother of James, Peter ran to the tomb to see for himself. (Typical Peter: rushing in where others would not.) And having seen nothing in the tomb but a pile of body-wrapping linens, he went home amazed.

If that were the end of the story, we would not be here today. If all the witnesses to the resurrection of Jesus had been as flummoxed as Peter was, there would be no Christian faith. If the story of the three women had continued to be treated as nonsense, there would be no Jesus movement, no Gospel stories, no church. There would have been resurrection, but no Easter.

But the event of the resurrection turned out to be powerful and compelling. People at the time experienced the resurrection of Jesus in a way that disrupted and transformed their lives. It drew them to one another to establish small communities of men and women who would re-tell the story to one another. And then to tell the story of the life of Jesus and to try to live by his teachings and example, to establish rituals that he implied or commanded. How else can we explain the rise of early Christianity? Prophets then were a dime a dozen. Something happened with Jesus and, powerfully, in the people who heard the story of Jesus, killed but confoundingly risen and for a while physically present. People were enthusiastic, in the sense of the word that means they were filled by spirit, or the wind of God. They were blown away.

Mary and Joanna and Mary the mother of James were not expecting what they saw. None of the followers of Jesus were. When the disciples heard the news, they pooh-poohed it. They called the three women delirious. Partly this was misogyny. Partly it was total incredulity. The women had expected to find the body of dead Jesus. They did not find the body. “Why are you looking among the dead for one who has risen?” a man in bright clothes asks them. But the man is being disingenuous. They are looking among the dead because they had seen Jesus die. Unlike the other, male, disciples, who had scattered, these women had been eye witnesses to his death. It is fitting that they be the first witnesses to his rising. They had come looking for Jesus among the dead because Jesus had been dead.

We who know the story sometimes imagine that Jesus was more like an astral traveler than he was dead. That he was a divine spirit creature who inhabited various realms like a tourist until he was discovered to be not dead. But Jesus was dead. That’s what our faith and church teach us. Not sort-of dead, or faking it. Jesus died and was buried, as we say in the creed. Jesus was as dead as any creature on this earth can be. Jesus was human. Humans die. Jesus rose from the dead. That tells us something about humans. From the dead, Jesus is risen.

We who live on this side of life know next to nothing of death. We have some hints. We have some hints in scripture and teachings. Ashes to ashes. That makes sense. We are creatures of dust: you are dust, we say on Ash Wednesday, to dust you shall return. That is our experience. But we also hear that in Jesus’ father’s house there are many rooms. And we have heard Jesus tell another man that “you will be with me in paradise.”

We have some hints in our feelings about death. The disciples know that Jesus died. They would, I’m sure, have felt what we all feel at times like this. Sorrow, of course. But also anger, not understanding: how could this be? Trying to figure things out: how could this be happening? They might have been angry at God. Angry, even, at Jesus for leaving them. Angry, maybe, at themselves for things they never did, or things never reconciled, or things they regretted. (Peter denied Jesus, we read. How did he feel?) This is how they came to the tomb on Sunday morning.

And we have a hint in our hope in things unknown. And things unknowable. We are not all that smart. That there are things beyond our knowing is an occasion for hope. The fact that we can be hopeful in the face of ignorance seems to me to be useful information: not that we are naive, though we certainly are, but that while we are simple and small, God is big and not simple.

The resurrection of Jesus teaches us something that we did not know. It teaches us how little we know. It teaches us about the power of life—the power of God—in the world. It teaches us that death is not quite so fearsome. Death, where is your sting? asks the apostle Paul, later. Death, though unwelcome, need not be feared.

The resurrection of Jesus is an event, not an idea. Each of the four Gospels tells about it in a slightly different way. There are multiple stories of the Passion, the Resurrection, and the days after. This is not a defect in scripture. It is that the resurrection was an event that was experienced. It requires interpretation. The Gospel writers tried to interpret it. The man in dazzling clothes at the tomb tried to interpret it to Mary and Joanna and Mary the mother of James by putting it in context. “Don’t you remember what Jesus said would happen?” Jesus himself interprets it, both beforehand and afterward, by quoting scripture: This is to fulfill what is written, he sometimes says. Scholars and theologians interpret the resurrection constantly. Is it fulfillment? Is it part of a scheme of atonement? Is it a promise? Is it a sign?

The resurrection of Jesus is an event. It still confuses people and makes them marvel, two thousand years later. Jesus Christ rises from death. People are adamant about the meaning of that. Only they do not all agree about what the meaning is. It does mean something important. Christians, at least, agree about that.

The resurrection of Jesus is an event, but it is not over by a long shot. As we celebrate the particular event, we also contemplate its effect on us and the world. We chew on it, like a hard notion that needs softening. The resurrection of Jesus is an ongoing transformation in us, as it was for the disciples and early followers of Jesus. Paul says that we are certainly united with Jesus in a resurrection like his.

The resurrection of Jesus is an event. It is not a metaphor. It exists as it is. It should not be softened. But is a wonderfully fertile soil for growing metaphors. It reminds us of the rebirth of the world at springtime. Look at the trees budding and the gardens suddenly awakened. It reminds us that things that are broken can be repaired. And also that God can repair them. It reminds us that the end of one thing is the beginning of another. It brings to our hearts the comfort of renewal and restoration.

We are celebrating—and it is a celebration—we are celebrating today something that is way too powerful to take lightly, no matter what we make of it. It is occasion to remind us that the value of faith is to resist, as one person said, to resist the attempt to make God as knowable and dependable as breakfast cereal.

Mary and Joanna and Mary the mother of James were right to be dumbfounded. Peter was right to be amazed.

And we are right to say [with the children at worship] Hooray! Jesus is risen.