Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and
tell my brothers and sisters to go to Galilee; there they will see me.” (Matthew 28:10)
I
love Matthew’s story of Jesus’ resurrection (Matthew 28:1-10). Of course, I
love all four gospel accounts of the resurrection, but each account has
some cool, unique details which are just the pickles and onions on the
cheeseburger of the narrative. In Matthew’s gospel—for me, anyway—it’s
the earthquake. You see, I lived a big chunk of my early life in beautiful
southern California where the sun shines, the tacos are authentic, and the
ground shakes with uncomfortable frequency.
The
biggest quake I can recall was the Landers/Big Bear quake, which scored a 7.2
on the Richter Scale, and woke me from a pretty sound sleep on the morning of
June 28, 1992. On that particular Sunday morning I was living in North
Hollywood and playing host to my buddy Rich who was visiting from Wisconsin.
Rich and I had been out pretty late Saturday night as was our custom back in
those days. When the quake subsided—and it seemed like it took forever for the
earth to stop its noisy hula dance—I got out of bed and went to the guest room
to check on my friend. Rich was sitting bolt upright in bed, not moving a
muscle, and staring straight ahead with eyes wide open like the headlamps of a
Ford Bronco. I will never forget that look, and I imagine that’s what the
guards at the tomb must’ve looked like after the earthquake on that other
Sunday morning so long ago.
As
I think about it, the ground didn’t need to shake on that Sunday. The very
presence of Jesus of Nazareth among us was an earthquake in itself. When the
earth moves, the landscape changes, structures which look permanent crumble,
and walls topple down.
Jesus
was an earthquake.
Jesus
tore down old structures and broke down barriers. The sick and lame were no
longer wretches cursed by God, but brothers and sisters worthy of God’s love.
Foreigners were no longer unclean infidels, but recipients of mercy and part of
God’s family. The meek and the powerless were the heirs to God’s Kingdom.
Arcane rules of purity didn’t make anyone righteous. Righteousness came from
embracing the love Jesus came to give. The righteous were not meant to rule,
but to be ruled by God’s Holy Spirit—not to be served, but to be
servants to the needy.
While
the guards stood there like zombies, the women were given a commission: “…go
quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed
he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’”
Jesus
has gone on ahead. I’ve always found that phrase to be exceptionally
meaningful. Jesus has gone on ahead of us, and there is no place we’ll ever go
that he hasn’t been. Jesus has visited loss and grief. He’s been to the place
of betrayal and abandonment by those he trusted and loved. He’s taken a full
guided tour of mockery and shame and humiliation. And he knows his way around
pain, despair, loneliness, temptation, incapacity, and imminent death. He’s
been through it all.
And
God raised him from the dead.
Saint
Paul asks us:
“Do you not know that all of us who were baptized into
Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore, we were buried with him
by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the
glory of the Father, so we also might walk in newness of life. For if we have
been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him
in a resurrection like his.” (Romans
6:3-5)
Jesus’
life, death, and resurrection were an earthquake which shifted the ground of
human history. Within a single generation people on three continents
were worshiping the itinerant, peasant rabbi from Nazareth as their Lord and
Savior. Masters and slaves were eating at the same table. An empire which
looked unshakable would go in time from persecuting the followers of Jesus to
embracing his cross. Jesus rocked the world.
How
does Jesus rock your world? Are you like those guards who knew about this
wonder but became like dead men, unmoved and unmoving? Or will you be like the
women who, though filled with both fear and joy, went forward with a mission to
others?
You
have to admire the two Marys in this tale. They may have been scared, and they
were doubtless gob smacked by this freaky thing which they’d experienced.
But—God bless ‘em—they took off anyway. They had a mission to bring hope to a
bunch of cowardly men who were probably wallowing in despair and grief and
self-pity, believing everything they’d lived for for the last three years had
just landed in the dumpster. These gals hadn’t seen any proof for the mission
they were sent on, but they started off anyway in faith, and they found Jesus
on the journey. I bet that rocked their world. And for the last two millennium,
Jesus has continued to shake things up.
Lord,
you who have the power to shake the world and change the course of history,
give us the living faith to be your servants, to take up your mission to the
needy, the despairing, and the confused. Inspire us on our journey and let us
find you on the way. May we see you in our neighbors and in those in need. May
your peace, which passes our ability to understand it, keep our hearts and
minds in you. Amen.
Happy
Easter, my friend. Thanks for reading.
Alleluia!
Christ is risen!
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