All the Eggs in the Easter Basket

All the Eggs in the Easter Basket

Matthew 28:1-10

July 19, 2020 • Mount Pleasant UMC

Okay, let’s just be honest and up front this morning: this is not the Easter we planned on. It’s probably not the Easter any of us wanted. I’m an introvert and this isn’t even the Easter I wanted! It’s unlike any Easter we’ve ever experienced, and it’s easy to focus on everything that isn’t happening this year. We had online Holy Week services. We didn’t get to have our Easter Eggstravaganza—now I guess the staff will just have to eat all that candy whenever we get back to the office! Oh, the things we do for this church! Anyway—you’ve probably had to cancel your own Easter egg hunts and family dinners and family pictures and pretty much anything that has to do with leaving home or being with a big group of other people. Many people right now swing between confidence and fear, but mostly I think we’re all just ready for this to be over. When will life get back to normal?

No, this is not the Easter we planned on, but I’ve been thinking this week that maybe this is the Easter we need—an Easter where we have to slow down and focus on what’s most important. Actually, it’s an Easter not unlike the first one. On that first Easter (which wasn’t even called “Easter” yet), the disciples were huddled in a borrowed room, isolated from others and really just hoping to get out of town without being noticed. The men were too lazy to even get up; the Gospels all tell us it was the women who went to the tomb early on that Sunday morning. But even they don’t go to the tomb to look for a risen Jesus. They go so that they can finish the burial that had been interrupted on Friday by the arrival of the Sabbath, the day when they couldn’t do any work. The Gospels are unified in saying that no one expected a resurrection. No matter how many times Jesus had talked about it, no one went to the tomb on Sunday morning expecting to find him alive. He was dead; they had witnessed it. All that was left to do was to anoint his body, maybe spend some time mourning in the garden in peace and quiet, and then go home. It was all over (cf. Card, Matthew: The Gospel of Identity, pg. 248; Wright, Matthew for Everyone, Part Two, pg. 198).

Until they got to the tomb. In that moment, everything changed. When they arrived, the guards who had been posted there (wouldn’t that be a great gig, guarding a dead man’s tomb?) were gone, the heavy stone that had sealed Jesus in was rolled back, and there was an angel there waiting on them. The angel says the same thing angels always say first: “Do not be afraid.” And then the angel proceeds to tell them the most amazing truth—a truth that Jesus had already told them would happen before it happened, a truth they had failed to hear. “Jesus has risen from the dead,” they say. And the women, Matthew says, are “afraid yet filled with joy” (28:8), maybe sort of like we are this morning. Afraid, yet filled with joy—and that’s when they turn around and run smack dab back into Jesus, who also tells them not to be afraid. Yeah, that’s a tall order when you’re standing in front of a dead man who is now not dead and not a zombie. Do not be afraid. We take this whole thing, this whole holiday for granted. People, Jesus is risen from the dead! Maybe we should be more afraid than we are!

All throughout Lent, we have looked at several instances where it seems Jesus was behaving badly, places where he is just not doing what we or others expect him to do. Well, if there was ever a time when he did not do what anyone expected him to do, it’s Easter. Resurrection was not on anyone’s “to do” list for that day. So, while he’s not behaving “badly” in this story, he certainly is behaving outside of the expectations and the norms. That’s why, for some, this story of a resurrection is just too hard to swallow. It’s too much of a leap of faith—even for some who claim to be followers of Jesus. But the resurrection is absolutely at the center of who we are as Christians. The truth of Christianity stands or falls on what happened on this day nearly two thousand years ago (cf. Strauss, Jesus Behaving Badly, pg. 186). Paul, writing some years after the actual event, said this: “If Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith. More than that, we are then found to be false witnesses about God…If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins…If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied” (1 Corinthians 15:14-19). If this is not true, then none of it is. The disciples staked their lives on it, martyrs and believers through the centuries have done the same. Can we? You can say we’ve put all our eggs in one basket, the Easter basket, but we wonder if this basket will hold us.

What proof is there, after all, that this is true? Well, first of all, let me say that the empty tomb is not proof (cf. Card 249). An empty hole in the ground is no proof at all. After all, maybe the women were confused on that Sunday morning and went to the wrong tomb. The problem with this is that everyone would have had to go to the wrong tomb. The women, the disciples, the Roman authorities who undoubtedly wanted to check out the story, and even Joseph of Arimathea (you know, the guy who owned the tomb). Even if the women got confused, the next person would have just had to point out their mistake and the problem would have been solved. What is the likelihood that everyone went to the wrong tomb and no one ever caught the error? Well, then, maybe the disciples stole the body and hid it. That is, after all, the story the religious leaders paid the soldiers to tell (Matthew 28:12-16). Matthew says that story was “widely circulated.” But if that story was true, honestly, they would have made up a better cover story. The story they tell is hard to believe, especially in the first century where women were not considered reliable witnesses. A better story would not have had the men sleeping in or questioning the story the women told. In addition to that, how long would their story have held up in the face of death threats? Chuck Colson, one-time aide to President Nixon, would often point out how quickly the whole Watergate conspiracy fell apart when people were threatened with just imprisonment. Colson put it this way: “Twelve men testified they had seen Jesus raised from the dead, then they proclaimed that truth for forty years, never once denying it. Every one was beaten, tortured, stoned and put in prison. They would not have endured that if it weren't true. Watergate embroiled twelve of the most powerful men in the world—and they couldn't keep a lie for three weeks. You're telling me twelve apostles could keep a lie for forty years? Absolutely impossible” (https://bit.ly/3dYvMZk).

Then there’s the theory, trotted out every year about this time, that Jesus didn’t really die on the cross. It’s sometimes called the “swoon” theory, and it says that it only appeared that Jesus died on the cross; rather, he “swooned,” passed out, and then revived in the cool dampness of the tomb. When he woke up, he rolled the stone back, hid in the garden and convinced the women and eventually the disciples that he had risen. Now, seriously, anyone who has seen The Passion of the Christ knows the horror of crucifixion. And, if anything, scholars tell us that film didn’t depict it nearly as bad as it really was—and it had an “R” rating for the brutality of the violence. Romans in the first century were experts at crucifixion; they were good at killing people. They would not have made a mistake like putting a man still alive in a tomb. And even if they did—let’s just give this theory the benefit of the doubt—even if they did, do we really think a beaten, wounded, bleeding Jesus could have woken up, rolled back a 1-2 ton stone that was sunk into a locking mechanism, then convinced everyone that he was victorious over death? Two nights and a day—without medical treatment—would not have been enough time for him to sufficiently recover form his wounds so that he could convince anyone of anything (cf. Strauss 192-193).

No, no credible historian questions the existence of Jesus of Nazareth, nor do they question his death on a Roman cross somewhere around the year 30 AD. In fact, there are so many “outside” sources from the first century documenting Jesus’ death under Pontius Pilate that his death is the most indisputable fact about his life (Strauss 194). In other words, one way we know Jesus lived is that so many people testify to the fact that he died. And, as I said, we know that the Romans in that time were experts at and frequent practitioners of crucifixion. They knew how to prolong the pain and agony of the death; they knew just how many times they could beat a prisoner without killing them. They did not invent crucifixion, but they perfected it. In many ways, they were execution machines. They would not have messed this up.

Another piece of evidence that no one has been able to dispute is the empty tomb. Now, some scholars want to say that Jesus was never buried; it’s far more likely, they say, that his body was thrown in a mass grave and eaten by dogs. Yeah, isn’t that a pretty picture for Easter morning? But here’s the problem with that: had he not been buried, the writers of the Gospel would never have associated such a prominent name as Joseph of Arimathea with his burial. Joseph was a high-placed individual in the Jewish ruling council. In other words, he was important. And if he had not been associated with Jesus’ burial, it would have been easy for he or his family to disprove that statement. So Jesus was buried in a borrowed tomb, which was okay because he didn’t need it for long. The tomb was empty by Sunday morning. And pretty soon after that, the disciples were out in the streets of Jerusalem preaching about his resurrection. If it were not true, Jesus’ opponents would have brought out his body and said, “Nuh uh!” But no one did. Ever. His tomb is still empty today. In fact, a few years ago, there was an investigation into the cave that stands under the current tomb monument, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and they found that the cave there is far older than anyone suspected. What a surprise! Oh, and by the way, they did not find a body there.

To me, the best piece of evidence for a resurrected Jesus is the changed lives of the disciples. Once they encountered the risen Lord, not a one of them went back to their former professions. Every single one of them gave the rest of their lives to proclaiming the message of Easter. All but one died martyr’s deaths in the service of Jesus. John, the only one we think died a natural death, lived a long life and eventually received the promise of Jesus’ return in a vivid vision that we are all still trying to figure out today. Now, I realize there have been instances, even in recent history, of people who died because of something they believed to be true. I’m old enough to remember Jim Jones and the People’s Temple in Guyana (that, by the way, is where we get the phrase “drink the kool-aid”) as well as David Koresh and the Branch Davidians in Waco, Texas. Many of you probably also remember the Heaven’s Gate group who committed mass suicide believing they would be taken up to a spaceship that was trailing the Hale-Bopp comet. Incidentally, Jim Jones once applied to be a Methodist preacher, the leader of Heaven’s Gate grew up Presbyterian and David Koresh spoke of himself as the messiah, the final prophet. In each case, there was just enough Biblical language to convince people that it was true. The stories are outlandish, but the followers believed all of it to be true. They died believing. But no one dies for something they know to be false. These disciples and other followers gave their lives in service and in death to the resurrected Jesus. They put all of their eggs in one basket because they knew it to be true. Jesus had been raised and he had appeared to them.

For me, these are the things that speak of the truth of the resurrection, but nothing is more powerful than my own encounter with the living Jesus. To quote an old hymn, “You ask me how I know he lives? He lives within my heart.” I have known his presence in my life all of my life and in a very personal way for the last forty-some years, ever since I committed my life to him when I was in fifth grade. And because of that relationship, I live in hope. Paul reminds us that Jesus’ resurrection is just the beginning. He says it this way: “Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep” (1 Corinthians 15:20). His resurrection is the promise of ours. One day, when everything has been completed and the kingdom comes in its full glory, we will be given brand-new bodies. We will be made whole, the way we were intended to be from the beginning. My heart will no longer have a fake valve in it—shoot, I don’t even know if I’ll have a heart but I am confident of this: I won’t have to listen to the click, click, click of my mechanical valve for eternity. Thanks be to God! My eyesight will be perfect and my back won’t hurt from time to time. I don’t know what you’re looking forward to, but the promise is this: Jesus’ resurrection is a guarantee of ours. Here’s the way Paul puts it in another place: “If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you” (Romans 8:11). Friends, to me, that is reason to rejoice, to have hope, to trust in this resurrection.

But God doesn’t stop there. Not only do we have reason to hope, we have a reason not to fear. Jesus’ resurrection is the antidote to fear—to any fear this world tries to throw at us, even the fear of being hit by a mysterious, invisible virus. I’m not trying to downplay the concern about the coronavirus; we must and should be wise, stay home, wash our hands, do what the medical authorities tell us is the best thing to do to stop the spread of this killer. That’s why we’ve been streaming worship these last few weeks; it’s not my first preference, certainly during Holy Week and especially on Easter. But it’s the wise thing to do. Few people have, by now, not been touched in some way by this virus, even if it’s just that you know someone who has a relative who is sick or even one who has died from it. The numbers go up every day, and it’s easy to forget that every one of those numbers represents a person, a life that is dear to God. We should be concerned; we should do what is wise. What we must not do is give in to fear because fear is something Jesus did away with when he came out of that tomb. Paul reminds us that the last enemy to be defeated is death (cf. 1 Corinthians 15:26). On the cross, Jesus defeated sin, but when he came out of the tomb, he defeated death. He put death “under his feet” (1 Corinthians 15:27). He stomped it to the ground. And if you don’t have to fear death, seriously, what else is there to fear?

The other night, a week or so ago, it began storming and Hershey, our lovable mutt, began pacing. Hershey hates storms and fireworks and pretty much any loud noise that happens outside the house. Actually, she’s not real fond of loud noises inside the house; she hates the sweeper, for instance, and will bark at it like it’s a ferocious predator. Anyway, on this particular night, when the thunder started, I noticed she was shaking. Visibly shaking. Now, we have some medicine we usually give her—we call it doggy Xanax—but it was really too late for that to have any effect. So I went over and sat beside her and put my arm around her. I held onto her and told her it was going to be okay. She didn’t understand the words, but before long, she began to calm down (especially when the storm passed) and for a while she was able to relax. I kind of picture the resurrection like that; it’s Jesus coming alongside us, wrapping his arms around us, and reminding us that we have nothing to fear. If death is not a threat, what else is there to fear? “Don’t be afraid,” the resurrection says to us. “Jesus is here, alongside you each and every moment of each and every day.”

And because of his presence, we can live a victorious life, a resurrection life, even in the face of uncertainty. Now, I know that word is full of bad ideas in today’s church culture. A lot of preachers, especially those on TV, will tell you the “victorious” life is one that has no trouble, no sickness, no danger from the coronavirus. Hopefully, those of you who are regularly part of Mount Pleasant know that’s not what I’m saying and, more importantly, that’s not what the Scripture says. Jesus, of course, is the supreme example of an unanswered prayer. In the Garden of Gethsemane, he asked for some other way than the cross, and God the Father said no. Jesus suffered in horrific ways; the word “excruciating,” by the way, literally means “out of the cross.” I’ve already mentioned the ways the disciples suffered, most of them killed for their faith. Tradition says Peter was crucified upside down, and he asked to be crucified that way because he didn’t feel he was worthy to die in the same way Jesus did. And Paul, we know, had something he called a “thorn in the flesh.” He asked God to take it away and God told him, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:7-9). We don’t know what Paul’s “thorn” was, but most scholars today have thought it was an eye disease. Whatever it was, it was chronic and apparently prevented him from doing certain things. It was bad enough he says he begged God to take it away. And God said no. God did not give Paul a pain-free life, but he gave him a victorious life—a life in which his hope is found in Jesus and in his cross and resurrection, a life in which there was absolutely nothing the world could do to him that would ultimately take away his hope. A victorious life is one in which your brokenness, your pain, your wound does not define you. Because Jesus is raised and your life is “in him” (cf. Colossians 3:3), cancer does not define you. Medical issues do not define you. Age does not define you. Fear does not define you. Abuse does not define you. Sexuality does not define you. Coronavirus does not define you. The worst thing that has ever happened to you does not define you. You hear me say it every Easter (and a whole lot of days in between): the worst thing, my friends, is never the last thing. Resurrection proves it. We can live a victorious life, not one free from trouble, but one safe in Christ.

I love the story of a young boy who was home with his grandfather, maybe he was confined by a “stay at home” order. And the boy was high energy, driving his grandpa a little nutty. So Grandpa got out a world map and cut it up into 100 pieces. “Here’s a puzzle,” he told his grandson. “When you get this put back together, come get me.” Well, it was only a few minutes when the boy came in and told his grandpa he was done. “How could you be done?” Grandpa asked. “How could you get all those countries in the right place so fast?” And the young boy smiled. “Well,” he said, “on the back of the map was a picture of a person. And when I got my person put together, the world was the way it was supposed to be.” How about that for some Easter theology? When I get my person put together, the world is the way it is supposed to be. When we get our person together, when we are in relationship with Jesus the way our creator intended us to be, then the world begins to be put back together. Resurrection is the hope that one day, one day all will be made new and the fractured and broken world will be made right. The worst thing is never the last thing. This may not be—is not—the Easter you planned, but it is the one we have. So how will you honor Jesus on this Easter, this day, this hour? Will you place your trust in him and in his resurrection? Everything rises or falls on the hope of the empty tomb. We really do put all our eggs in one basket (and it’s an Easter basket). All of our hope rests in the promise of resurrection. I not only trust in that promise and that hope, I am counting on it. I pray you are, too.