"Hallelujahs, Tinged with Tears" (Easter Sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge

April 9, 2023 (Easter Sunday)

Scripture Reading:  Matthew 28:1-10

 

 

I need to say, right from the beginning, that with one part of my heart it doesn’t quite feel right to be celebrating Easter with so much grief floating around our churches these days.  It doesn’t feel quite right to be singing our Hallelujahs with joy and excitement while some of our friends, some of our neighbours, some of our siblings in Christ are still living through their Good Fridays of grief and fear and dread.  Some of our friends, some of our neighbours, some of our siblings in Christ are still living through Holy Saturday, that day of emptiness, of waiting, of in-between-ness.  How can we celebrate Easter with so much Good Friday and Holy Saturday still around us?

 

And yet when I read the stories of the first Easter, I notice that they also aren’t full of joy that is uncomplicated by grief or fear.  I think that Easter is maybe a bit more complicated than we sometimes make it out to be.

 

Think of those women going to the tomb at sunrise – Matthew names them for us, Mary Magdalene and another Mary.  They are deep in grief at the loss of their friend.  And when they get to the tomb, an earthquake shakes the ground under their feet, and an angel descends in front of them.  And here, I invite to you picture something a bit more dramatic than the usual artistic depictions of angels.  I invite you to picture wings and eyes and flames and lightning flashing around them, clothing so dazzling bright that you can’t look at the angel.  The big burly Roman guards that have been posted to guard the grave are terrified, shaking in their boots and paralyzed with fear.

 

The first thing that the angel says to the women is, “Don’t be afraid.”  They need to let go of their immediate terror to be able to hear the good news that Jesus isn’t there in the tomb, but rather has been raised from the dead.

 

As Mary and Mary are running back into the city to tell the other disciples, they run into Jesus himself.  And just like the angel, Jesus greets them with, “Don’t be afraid.”

 

Between earthquakes and angels and a beloved friend who was dead but who is now standing before you… the first Easter wasn’t a simple joyful celebration of new life.  It is often said that the only two things you can count on are death and taxes, and now you can’t even trust death any more!  Resurrection was something new, and anything new feels unsafe, even when it is ultimately good.

 

And so I’m starting to think of Easter as something new… as something that is going to be ultimately good even if we can’t see the goodness at the beginning.

 

This week I was thinking of a tree that I saw back a couple of years ago.  I was visiting England in November 2019, just before Covid shut the world down, staying with a friend in a small village in the county of Devon.  The church in her village dates back to the 1300s, but the age of the building isn’t what is special about it.  What this church is famous for is a yew tree growing out of the roof.

 

Nobody is quite sure how old the tree is, but the best guess is that it is at least 250 years old.  Nobody planted it there – a seed likely fell from the beak of a bird flying overhead.  Maybe the seed found a bit of soil up there on top of the tower, maybe there was a patch of moss that it landed in.  The seed germinated, sending out fragile roots and a tender stem.  I wonder how long the tree was there before the first person noticed it?  How long was that tree there, growing and strengthening, without anyone being aware of its existance?  I think of those early years of the tree, drawing water up through its roots from the rain that fell.  Soaking up the sunlight in its first leaves.  New life was growing on that roof, likely for years if not decades before anyone became aware of it.  New life is beginning all around us, even when we can’t see it yet.

 

For Mary and Mary and the rest of the disciples, despite their terror and grief that Easter morning, resurrection has begun. Their beloved friend is back and a new sort of life is now here for all of us.

 

And this is why I think that we do need to celebrate Easter, even when we are in the midst of Good Friday or Holy Saturday times in our life.  This is why I think that we need to celebrate things like baptisms like we had at Summerville this morning, and a new life beginning.  The seeds of new life have already been planted, even when we can’t see them yet.  The seeds of new life have already been planted, and because we trust in that new life, we celebrate.  Even when our Hallelujahs are tinged with tears, even when our Hallelujahs are tentative, we sing them anyways.  For the tomb is empty.  New life is here.  Christ is risen.  Christ is risen indeed.  Hallelujah!

 

 

The Yew Tree on top of All Saints Church

Culmstock, Devon