Stone

Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
March 31, 2024

Easter 

          My mother died the Tuesday of Holy Week eleven years ago.  She had been ill for some months and while we knew we were on borrowed time, we did not realize how short term the loan was.  I spent a couple of days after she died with my brother, sister, and father before returning home for Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter.  The days with our father were full of decisions that needed to be made, support given and received, actions to take, paperwork to deal with-all without the clarity of thought one would like to have when doing that sort of work.  Grief, I learned, is exhausting, like pushing a rock uphill.  The to-do list is endless.  The whole experience was confusing and fogged up my brain.  I walked through the days of Holy Week toward the empty tomb that year, held together by the glue that is a curious mixture of grief and joy, despair and hope, death and life. 

          Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome have no such glue holding them together this morning and they are feeling all of the grief, confusion, and exhaustion we feel at the loss of a loved one.  They are tending to their “to-do” list, which includes procuring spices, walking to the tomb, and anointing Jesus’ body for burial.  As with many of the decisions we make when grieving, their decision to go to the tomb makes no sense.  They know there is a very large stone blocking the entrance to the tomb, and they know full well that there is no way they can roll away the stone and enter the tomb to do their work.  And yet, they continue to walk.

          When we arrive at the empty tomb on Easter morning, having traveled, like the women, through Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, and Good Friday, we expect the tomb to be empty and Jesus to have risen as is the case every year.  We expect to experience the triumph of life over death, joy over sorrow, and hope over despair (in our music, the flowers, and the festive atmosphere).  But an empty tomb is not what the women were expecting. When they see that the stone has been rolled away and the tomb is empty, their minds go to a very dark place.  But the tomb is not completely empty.  A young man dressed in a white robe is sitting there as if he is waiting for the three women to arrive.  He has a message for the them.  “Do not be alarmed.  You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified.  He has been raised.  He is not here.  Go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him just as he told you.”  The exhausted, grieving women have no idea what the young man is talking about.  What could the young man possibly mean by “He has been raised”?  In their confusion and grief, they are petrified and they flee from the tomb.  They say nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

          These three faithful women have taken a lot of criticism over the years for their apparent lack of faith as they fled the tomb and the Easter message.  However, this is my favorite of all the Easter stories.  This story is my favorite because I think these women actually understood the enormity of what had happened.  If the women really understand that Jesus has been raised from the dead, that the powers of death have been overcome, then they understand that the world has been turned upside down and nothing, nothing will ever be the same again.  Now they live in a world where death no longer has the final say and anything is possible.  All of the rules have changed. How do we live in a world like that?  Terror and amazement seem like perfectly appropriate responses to this brand new reality.  The women model for us a faithful response to the enormity of what has happened in the resurrection of Jesus from the dead.

          How do we live in a world in which Jesus is risen from the dead?  On the one hand, we have the gift of hindsight, which the women did not have so we do not flee in terror. On the other hand, the temptation is to domesticate the resurrection and get back to life as usual tomorrow as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  These three women show us how to live in this new world.

First, the women kept walking to the tomb even though they had no idea how they would move the stone from the entrance to the tomb.  Easter happens every time we keep walking toward challenges that seem impossible, knowing that now there is no stone we must move by ourselves. Secondly, the women were alarmed by the empty tomb. We are blessed with the knowledge that the tomb is empty, but Easter happens every time we join the women in beholding the magnitude of what God has done for us in raising Jesus from the dead and really believe that life has triumphed over death and nothing will ever be the same.  Lastly, the women fled from the tomb in terror and amazement at the news that Jesus was now in Galilee.  Easter happens every time we go out to meet Jesus in the Galilee of our own lives, the very ordinary places where we live and work, day in and day out, in the midst of grief and joy, hope and despair, death and life.  Easter is not just a day with lots of chocolate, wonderful music, beautiful flowers, and the return of the Alleluias.  The Easter message is that Jesus is always one step ahead of us, on this side of the grave and beyond, meeting us wherever we go, whatever challenges we face, and promising that there is no stone we must push away alone, not even the stone of death. 

                                                                                      Amen.