I love the Gospel of Matthew’s account of the women at the tomb. I love the questions it raises – the answers to which are all matters of opinion – some matters of church lore – matters which cannot be substantiated with “the facts.” Who was “the other Mary”? Did this Gospel writer not know or not care which Mary? What were the women going to “see” at the tomb? (In Matthew’s version there was no work for them to do with the body because the stone had already been placed and the tomb was guarded against Jesus’ followers.) What is the significance of the messenger’s appearance? Why describe his clothing? (Nobody else’s clothes are described.) Why were they were afraid? What does it mean that the guards “became like dead men”? The longer I live with this story, the more fantastic and funny I think it is – the more full of joy in the midst of chaos and grief and despair it seems to be.
A number of years ago I was leading an assembly of about 50 or 60 people through a bible study with some of these questions at an adult forum hour. We had noticed that an earthquake had been attributed to an angel rolling away a stone. That’s right. According to Matthew, the angel, in moving the stone causes an earthquake. Earthquakes equal the end of the world – if you’ve ever been in one, you know what I mean. At the very least they signal the end of the world as we’ve known it.
During this bible study, we had noticed that, having moved this enormously heavy stone, the angel sat on it. Can you picture that? The appearance of the angel was like lightning and his clothing was white as snow – not even a smudge to show for causing an earthquake. We had noticed that the terrified guards shook and became like dead men. I said to the group, “What do you think that means?” One person said “maybe they were scared stiff.” Another said, “maybe they fainted.” The group was silent a moment, thinking of what else it might mean. I offered what occurred to me next: “maybe they lay down and played dead because they were afraid of getting hurt.” We laughed. Well, most of us laughed. One person in the room stood up, pointed his finger at me and said, “Young lady, it does not serve you or anyone else here to be making fun of Holy Scripture.” In that moment, he became, I’m afraid, the weights around God’s ankles and he brought the whole room down with him. He was a very powerful man in the community and in his attempt to shame me and everyone else who had laughed, he extinguished the joy that we were just beginning to experience in this resurrection story. Oh I think God hates when that happens.
But God will not be held down or buried by our solemnity, our guilt, our piety, our complacency, not by our regrets or forgetfulness, our denial or betrayal, or our sorrow. That’s what resurrection is about after all. It’s especially clear in the Gospel of Matthew that “resurrection is essentially a [communal] event and... the resurrection of Jesus is the cause of all other resurrections.”1 For Matthew, it’s clearly not just about Jesus, in other words, it’s about resurrection for all of God’s children.
When the women ran to tell the disciples with fear and great joy, suddenly they met Jesus on the way and they dropped to the ground – the Greek describes their posture as being like dogs. Fear has overwhelmed them. They were worshipping Jesus rather than following him – and worse than that, they’d lost their joy. Jesus said “do not be afraid” – do not let fear overcome your joy -- “get back up and run to tell the disciples to head for Galilee; there they will see me.” Other Gospel accounts have the disciples staying in Jerusalem and seeing Jesus there, but Matthew’s story for Jesus’s followers, was about seeing the resurrected Jesus in the crossroads of great and ancient trade routes – the place where all nations were represented in a multi-cultural mix of many races.
But resurrection is such a loaded idea, isn’t it? A few weeks ago a woman I know said, “Resurrection just doesn’t feel right – it gives me heartburn.” As far as I can tell, that has always been true. Even in the end of the Gospel of Matthew, the story goes that Jesus appeared to the disciples in Galilee – some of whom worshiped and some of whom doubted. I wanted to point that out just in case you were thinking that what goes on at Emmanuel is something new and edgy – some worshiping and some doubting. Questions and doubt and skepticism have been a part of the essential spirit of Judaism and Christianity for millennia. The interesting thing to me is that the story goes that Jesus didn’t just instruct those who were worshiping to go and tell – Jesus instructed the worshipers and the doubters to go and tell what Jesus had been teaching – that what God wants for people is food enough to eat and freedom from all kinds of oppression, healing and compassion. In other words, what God wants is for us to love one another “not only with our lips but in our lives.”
And so, it seems to me that the most important questions that this resurrection narrative from Matthew raises for us have to do not so much with “what happened?” or “did it happen?” or “how did it happen?” The most important questions are questions like “is this happening?” These are important questions for us as individuals and as a church. (They’re questions for you and for me although I’m going to use the word you as I ask them.) How is resurrection narrative happening in your lives today? In what way are you returning, at the dawning of this new week, to the tomb in grief for what might have been and will never be? What is the earthquake that is shaking your world and rattling your nerves? Whose voice is telling you to not be afraid? How might the object of your grief and sorrow diminish as if a rock has been rolled back from the tomb? How are you preoccupied with fears and delayed by falling down and holding on? Are you perhaps somewhere between Jerusalem and Galilee in your journey to see that what was dead is now alive in an entirely new way? Are you looking for resurrection? Will you recognize new life when you see it?2
That Jesus lives and that Jesus is Lord are central tenets of the Christian faith. They’re statements of faith, though, not of fact. To say that Jesus lives is to say that powers and principalities might kill the body of Jesus, but even death can’t quench the power of God in Jesus. To say that Jesus is Lord is to say that Caesar is not Lord (for it was Caesar who claimed to be Lord). Who or what claims to be Lord in our time? To say that Jesus is Lord is to say that Wall Street is not Lord – it’s not the almighty dollar. The military is not Lord – might does not make right. The powers and principalities of this world are not Lord. For us to live as if that is true, that Jesus is Lord, would actually cause anyone in their right mind to be afraid. I think Jesus knew this because he said “do not be afraid” more than anything else he is reported to have said – two times right in our Gospel reading today!
I don’t think Jesus meant “you shouldn’t be afraid” – but more like, don’t let fear control you, don’t let fear stop you dead in your tracks. Don’t be like dead men. Rather, “look at fear as the necessary condition for courage.”3 Or, to paraphrase a line from the movie “Three Kings,” the way it works is, you do the thing you’re scared to death of, and you get the courage after you do it, not before you do it.4
For Matthew, the news hardly matters if the women don’t go and tell. It’s not news that they can keep to themselves. Does it matter today if we don’t get on our feet, if we don’t go and tell? What does the resurrection mean to you? What does it mean that Jesus lives and that Jesus is Lord? What difference does that make in your life? I bet if I went around this room, one by one, and you told me what you think it means for you, each of you would tell me something a little different. Guess what? That’s how it was with the Gospel writers too – they all told it differently. Whatever it is for you, go and proclaim it. Live as if resurrection is happening. Live as if it is true and it will be.
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