Matthew 28:1-20

When we went through Holy Week, we saw how the people anticipated the Messiah to come and conquer the Romans. On Palm Sunday, we witnessed the celebration and then we saw how as Jesus was prosecuted and beaten, the hopes for the Messiah were dashed. There was no way this man, who refused to even argue his case could have been a great and mighty Davidic warrior, who would lead the people to victory. We saw the anger and resentment of the people as Jesus failed to live up to their expectations.

And on Good Friday, we saw him die a brutal and painful death. And we struggled with the discomfort of the gory crucifixion. We struggled to see this so-called Savior die, but we also struggled because many of us were living good Friday for ourselves—we were in a state of isolation, of fear, of darkness, of depression, of rejection and anxiety. We suffered Good Friday as we struggled with life’s trials. And so we waited, desperate for Easter. And on Easter we saw 3 women approach the tomb and meet an unnamed, unknown man. They did not find Jesus as they had expected and they left in fear. There was no celebration, there was no joy. Just fear and confusion. Mark’s account of Easter morning was rather anti-climatic and disappointing. No pomp and circumstance. No earth shattering moments. Just fear and bewilderment and 3 women who walked away in silence.

And for many of us, while that Easter encounter was disappointing, it was real—we came on Easter to see the Risen Christ and we did not find him. And we feared that in not seeing and touching him that our Good Friday moments might last forever. We feared that Easter hadn’t and wouldn’t happen for us. And yet the promise was still there. There was still the promise of an encounter with Christ and so we kept looking for that Easter event.

Last week we came back, still seeking Easter and we followed John’s account and saw Mary Magdalene by herself as she approached the tomb. Again Jesus was not to be found and she was distressed—someone had stolen her Jesus and she was desperate to find his body. Then as she left the tomb she saw Jesus, but did not know him. She couldn’t recognize him. And in her story, we found our story—that sometimes the Jesus we expect to meet is not the one we find. We saw that if we are to encounter the Risen Lord that we have to remember that our God is a god of the unexpected. We will find answers to prayers in place and at times we simply did not expect. And as we left, still seeking our own Easter encounters, we were to look in unexpected places and know that God would meet and answer us in ways we never even could have imagined.

And today we hear the Easter story from another perspective—we hear Matthew’s account. Again we see Mary Magdalene and with her this time is “the other Mary”—possibly Jesus’ mother, possibly the mother of James, possibly another Mary entirely.

Matthew’s account, I think, is more of what we hope for. The angel comes with great power and rolls away the stone and it’s like an earthquake—the other book end on Jesus’ battle with death. Earlier in Matthew’s story, as we stared at the cross on Golgotha, as Jesus breathed his last, the sky went dark, the temple curtain tore, and the earth shook. Jesus entered the battle with death and now, on Easter morning, with the sun shining and an angel whose brightness was like lightening, the earth quakes again. The end note on death! The battle has been fought and Jesus won!

And the angel says to the women, “Do not be afraid!” The angel tells them that Christ is risen and they must go to Galilee to share the good news. And so they leave with a bit of fear, but also with joy! Finally there is joy!! And then there’s Jesus—on the road, ready to greet them and he too tries to assuage their fear—“Do not be afraid.”

Those words aren’t just for Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, they are for us—Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid of life’s trials. Do not be afraid of those Good Friday moments. Do not be afraid—I am with you. Do not be afraid—I have conquered death and I am with you—full of life and of promise. Do not be afraid! And the women bowed down and worshipped the risen Lord and then went to proclaim the Good News.

Finally, an Easter story that feels like Easter! The earth moves, the mountains tremble, there is joy and celebration. There is an actual encounter with a Jesus we recognize and we can worship him as our Lord and Savior! Praise God!! I don’t know about you, but I was starting to wonder when we were actually going to experience the Good News—not fear and doubt, but actual Good News!

But there’s a hitch. There’s this part in here that I’ve never really paid any attention to until this year-the guards told the chief priests what had happened and they told the elders and the elders paid the guards big bucks to lie and say that Easter didn’t happen, there was no resurrection—the body was stolen and yes there was an empty tomb, but Jesus is still dead. There is no risen Lord. The Easter story is a lie.

What?!?! We just met and worshipped the Risen Christ—we finally got to an Easter moment we could believe and you’re gonna lie about it?! And not only did you lie about it, but people believed you! Lots of people believed the Easter lie. There is no victory—just death and sin. You can’t be saved, this Jesus is a fraud! And the scary thing is that when you’re living a Good Friday trial, it’s easy to believe the lie. When you’re stuck in desperation, it’s easy to reject the Good News because you can’t feel it or see it. It’s easy to question whether Jesus really did rise, if he really did conquer darkness when you’re still trying to stave off the darkness, still desperate for the light.

But the story that it didn’t happen is a lie! It’s a lie!

The truth is Jesus rose from the dead. The truth is he conquered death. The truth is that through him we have new life and new hope. The truth is he meets us on the road, or in Galilee—the place where we’ve always known him, or in unexpected ways, but he meets us! The truth is Jesus is the light of the world and he came to us and the darkness could not overcome it!

The truth is Easter is real and we have to have faith in that. We have to hold onto the truth, even when we can’t feel it because the truth is real and the doubt is false—it is of the devil and in it there is no freedom.

How many of you know that Utah beat the Lakers again last night? No really, a couple of nights ago they played and Utah tore ‘em up and last night it was like there was no chance of recovery—the Lakers just couldn’t beat them.

No? Hmm…well, if you didn’t see the game or if you don’t follow sports, you might be inclined to believe me…after all, I’m the preacher, why would I lie? Unless you were there, you’d fall for the lie. But here in this room there is an evangelist—someone who will proclaim the truth and proclaim it with such tenacity that you will have to believe him-for he holds the true story—that the Lakers came back from defeat and beat Utah. But without an experience of your own—or without the testimony of the evangelist—you’d fall for the lie…

It’s much the same with the Easter story. For people who haven’t experienced Easter—a life-giving encounter with Christ, or for people who are overwhelmed by the darkness of Good Friday00it is easy to believe the lie. And we need enthusiastic and dedicated evangelists to speak the truth. We must battle the lie that Jesus is just a man and not a Savior. We must battle the lie that we have to earn God’s love and forgiveness. We have to battle the lie that God has neglected us and does not care.

For our God is real! Our God is alive! Our God saves! And our God reigns—the gospel needs you to be an evangelist. We need you to tell the story. We need you to share the Good news.

The end of this passage contains “the great commission” where Jesus tells the disciples to go and make disciples of all nations and to baptize them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. AND to teach them to follow everything that Jesus taught.

Our call isn’t just to proclaim the good news, and not even just to baptize, and not just to teach, but to teach so that people will DO what Christ taught. Now, he’s a pretty radical guy at times—loving our enemies, eating with prostitutes and criminals, giving everything away for the sake of the gospel—people aren’t just going to jump on board, they need to be convinced that Jesus matters, that he’s real, not just in general, but real to you, alive in you! Giving your hope, even in those Good Friday moments. People need you to proclaim the Easter story in a way that is vibrant and tangible and believable, they need you to share the light and the hope and the promise.

Christ is Risen!

And the story needs to be told!

Palm Passion Sunday

Sometimes I think we wonder how the people could have crucified Christ. Why on earth were they so violent? We judge them as evil-doers, as narrow-minded, short-sighted zealots who couldn’t see who Christ really was. We see ourselves as different from them. Afterall, we didn’t put Christ on the cross—we didn’t call for his death—they did. They betrayed him where we have been faithful. Right? We love and praise Christ. We don’t condemn him or call for his death. Right?

Right. Well, sort of. See, the thing of it is, if we pay attention to the story, we will see that there aren’t a group who loved Jesus and a group who betrayed him—not as far as the masses are concerned. If we pay close attention, we will see that they are all the same. When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the crowds were there—thousands upon thousands had come for the Passover celebration. They would have made their annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem and they would have filled the streets. So when Jesus came in on the donkey it wouldn’t have been just one or two people coming to see, not a small parade but thousands upon thousands walking toward the city, camping out in the area, reuniting with friends and family, sharing the story of Passover where God brought them out of slavery to the Egyptians. Of how God liberated them and then led them to the promised land. They would have recounted these stories of oppression and slavery—the bitterness of their years under the Egyptians and would have felt like they were repeating history as they lived under Roman rule. The stories of God’s liberating work would give new hope for liberation from the Romans. They would have shared stories of Moses and Aaron and Miriam and their leadership and been hopeful for another leader who could deliver them to a new life. The climate would have been charged with excitement, anticipation, and some desperation for the promised one to finally arrive.

And then we see Jesus coming in on a donkey—the Jesus people have heard about—this healer, this teacher, this man who has not been afraid to stand out and take a stand and it dawns on them—the oppression and the need for a leader and here is this man who’s done so much—clearly an agent of God.

Could it be?

It must be!!

The Messiah!

He’s here!

Hosanna in the Highest!!

He’s here. It’s time! We are going to be saved! God has sent us a new leader—he will save us! He will deliver us from Roman oppression. We will be freed to live in the Promised Land as God’s people again. Hosanna in the highest! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna! Save us! Hosanna!

And we hear the excitement and the energy—the momentum behind Christ. And so he spends the week teaching the people—reviewing the lessons he’s shared in the last 3 years of his ministry and people become more and more hopeful for the day he frees them. The people are behind Jesus—they want him to be the Messiah—their savior—their liberator.

And then something happens—this story of deliverance from the Romans comes to a shrieking halt. It slams into a brick wall. Jesus is arrested. He doesn’t fight back. He hardly even says anything. He doesn’t break out of jail. He doesn’t rally these followers to free him so they can all conquer this oppressive authority.

This liberator doesn’t do any of that. Doesn’t free them or even free himself. He can’t be the Messiah of the kingly line of David—he’s a coward and a fake! He’s a fraud and they’ve been deceived. They’re hurt and disappointed. They trusted him and his teachings and it turns out he’s just a fraud.

Kill him! Kill the liar! Kill the wannabe Messiah! Kill the “Savior”! if he’s really so great, he’ll save himself.

And they call for his death. Not because they are evil people, but because they feel betrayed. This man who they thought would do so much did nothing. He didn’t even try to fight. He embarrassed himself, but worse yet he embarrassed all of them by allowing them to follow him.

And he deserves to be punished. Period.

And so he is. He is beaten and mocked and spat upon. He’s stripped of his clothes and hung on a cross to die. He was murdered. Crucified doesn’t fully convey what happened. Jesus was murdered. And as far as most can figure it…rightfully so.

He was a rebel rouser.

He fraternized with prostitutes and thieves.

He led and misled the people

This man deserved to die.

And so he did—after hours of agonizing pain on the cross—he breathed his last.

That’s where our story is supposed to end today—with betrayal and death.

A so called leader hanging from a cross—naked and alone.

A defeated people walking by to see this coward they only wish could have saved them. And a handful of disciples—heartbroken and crying, astonished and dumbstruck that their Rabbi is dead.

That’s where our story is supposed to stop today. That’s all there is in the lectionary. We are supposed to have to leave in the discomfort of those moments until we come back next week.

But the thing about us as Christians is we can’t simply see things one way. We don’t just see devastation and destruction when it happens—we see a need for hope. We don’t just see the sick, we see the possibility for healing. We don’t simply see death—we also see life eternal. We refuse to be bound by the bad because through Christ we live in God’s hope. And today is no different. Yes, the story of today ends with death, but we can’t help but tell the rest of the story….we have to go on to tell what happens next.

Today we will celebrate holy communion—we will take the bread and the juice and remember the body and blood of Christ—though his sacrifice comes through death—we don’t concentrate on his death when we partake—we concentrate on his resurrection—the new life he offers. If we took communion focusing simply on his death, it would be rather morbid….but rather when we take the body and blood of Christ, we are not celebrating death—rather we celebrate the rest of the story—the story of life.

We take the body and blood of Christ and celebrate life---Christ’s resurrected life and our lives transformed through him. We can celebrate life and deliverance because we know the rest of the story. We know that this story is one of liberation—not the liberation from the Romans that was hoped for but true liberation—freedom from sin and death. We are free to live a new life in Christ—free from the chains of our past, free to be healed of our deepest wounds and free to love as Christ loves.

Because we know the rest of the story we know he was not a coward or a failure, but rather the ultimate victor who conquered the most evil powers there are—not for his own benefit, but for ours.

Jesus did not come as the Savior the Jews anticipated. He did not liberate them from an earthly rule as Moses had. Instead he offered them and us something much greater—freedom in life—and life after death. Christ offered us something much better than we ever could have anticipated—forgiveness for all of our sins, freedom to have an open and honest relationship with God despite our failures, and freedom to be restored to community even after we have committed the most egregious of errors. Christ gives us freedom. It may not have been what was expected or hoped for, but sometimes, we fail to see the whole picture. We fail to grasp what we really need and are blessed when we don’t get exactly what we want.

As you come to the table today, I hope that you will see and taste the body and blood of Jesus Christ. And that you will take it with a grateful heart—thankful for the ways God has defied your expectations.

Almost Easter Funeral Homily

Dealing with death is never easy. Expected or unexpected, young or old, our hearts break as we lament the loss of a loved one and remember their affect on our lives.

And dealing with death at Easter time can feel like a bit of a mixed back. There is so much focus on the joy of Easter and the promise of resurrection, that it can feel like there isn’t time or space to fully grieve. We hear and resent words like “and their tears shall turn into shouts of gladness”. We aren’t ready for our tears to be transformed. We need to cry for awhile. We need to be sad. Our loss is great and our sorrow overbearing.

It is important that we take the time to grieve. It is important that we lament and share. That we allow ourselves to feel the loss. ______________is important to us and has touched us in so many ways and we need to remember and honor her.

And still, in the midst of our grief, Easter is there, marking the promise and depth of God’s love. While our mood is somber, it is not distraught, for even as we are reminded of our own mortality, we cannot help but the resurrection. We know that because of Christ our story does not end with death, but instead with resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.

It is because of Christ we have hope. It is because of the resurrection on Easter morning that we can celebrate a life and not just mourn a death. For we know that we will be reunited one day, we trust that __________ is already celebrating with the angels as she is restored to wholeness in mind, body, and spirit.

This hope does mean we do not mourn. It does not mean we will not cry or lament or ask God why. Our grief is real. Our loss is tremendous. ____________’s absence is palpable. Our sorrow is great. And yet, in the midst of that sorrow, we still have Christ’s promise to us.
In my father’s house there are many dwelling places. I go and prepare a place for you,[and] I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also."

God sent God’s only Son out of love for us….in order to save us. And he has conquered sin and death and offered us new life through him. And he has gone into heaven and prepared a place for us. There is a room for each of us in God’s house. We are welcomed in with gracious hospitality. Today, as we say goodbye to ___________, we can imagine her in God’s mansion, celebrating in the fullness of God’s glory.

In offering salvation and creating a place for us, Christ wraps us in assurance. He tells us, Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. There is peace in God’s promises. There is peace in knowing that when our life on earth returns to ashes and dust, our life in heaven has only just begun.

Let us give thanks for _________ and the promises of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Let us take time to grieve, to remember and to mourn. And let us also remember that because of Christ, our story does not end with death and loss but instead with eternal life and promise. Amen.