Two Rivers Pastoral Charge
Sunday April 17, 2022 – Easter Sunday
Scripture: Luke 24:1-12
That morning is so clear in my mind – my memories of that day are so vivid.
When I left the house, it was still dark. It was cold, in those hours before the dawn, and I had wrapped myself in my warmest cloak but still the cold managed to seep in.
As I hurried through the streets, the birds might have been singing to greet the dawn, but I don’t remember them. The shriek of grief was too loud in my head to be able to hear anything else.
Only two days ago, I had seen my beloved nailed to a cross and left there to die, executed by the Empire for daring to proclaim a different way of being. I had wanted to turn away, but I couldn’t let myself do that. I stayed there, through the endless hours, until I saw him take his final breath. And then I watched the men take his lifeless body off the cross, and I followed them and saw them put it in a grave.
And then it was Sabbath. For a full day I couldn’t do anything except sit in my home and wait.
But then. But then that morning I was finally able to do something. I had gathered up the herbs and spices that were needed to prepare the body of my beloved for the grave – this was one last thing that I could do for him.
As I hurried through those quiet streets, I met up with some of the other women who had stood vigil with me two days before. We wanted to go and tend his body and say our final goodbyes.
I don’t remember us saying anything to one another as we moved through the streets and towards the place of the tombs. In our grief, there was nothing left to say.
When we got to the place where we had seen his body placed, we were surprised to see that the grave was open. The stone that had been placed in front of it to seal the entrance had been rolled back. I don’t know who could have done it – it would take the strength of more than one person to move such a large stone uphill and away from the entrance – tombs are designed to be closed rather than to be opened.
A shiver of worry pierced the numbness I had been feeling. I didn’t know what could have happened. And when we looked inside, there was no body to be seen – only a pile of cloths – the cloths that had wrapped his body – they were lying where his body had been. The worry became fear. What could have happened?
And then, just as the sun was rising above the horizon, dazzling our eyes, there were two men there. I don’t know where they came from… I can’t even tell you what they looked like… you know how it is when you are looking into the sun. My fear became terror. Had they been the ones to move the body of my beloved? What were they going to do to us?
I can’t tell you what they looked like, but I remember what they said. They said, “Don’t be afraid.” They said, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but he has risen!”
And then, I can’t tell you how it happened, but all of the grief and the fear fell away. Where the grief and fear had been, I was able to dare to feel hope.
The men continued to speak, and reminded us what my beloved had taught us. They reminded us that he had said that on the third day he would rise from the dead. They told us that we were going to see our beloved again.
The hope that had been planted in me began to turn into joy. I had seen my beloved die, but the love of God-whose-name-is-Holy is stronger than even death, and now the grave is empty and he is risen!
We didn’t linger there at the grave, the other women and I. We rushed back into the city to go and tell the other disciples. We couldn’t wait to share the good news with them!
And ever since that day, whenever I am sad, whenever grief overwhelms me, whenever I am afraid or anxious about what is going to happen – I remember that morning. I remember how grief and fear don’t last forever. I remember that I can hold on to hope, because I know that love and joy are always waiting for me on the other side of fear and grief. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel, even if we can’t see it yet. Even when they don’t make any sense at all in the present moment, love, hope, and joy will always have the final word!
“Easter, Empty Tomb” by JESUS MAFA
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