There is an historic village in Salem, North Carolina. Every Easter morning, in the early hours of this day, thousands of people, many of them tourists who have come especially for this event, make their way towards the courtyard in front of a 200-year-old church, founded by the Moravians, one of the oldest Protestant denominations with roots in the Czech Republic. Before daylight, five hundred members of various brass bands echo hymns from different parts of the city. Everyone converges on Salem Square to listen to the mystical-sounding music. As the first hint of the rising sun begins to soften the darkness, a hush falls over the vast throng of worshipers. When the church bell tolls at 6 a. m., the Bishop emerges from the church and announces in a loud, unwavering voice, “Christ is Risen!” And the crowd thunders back, “Christ is Risen indeed!” Then the band begins to play “Christ the Lord Is Risen Today,” and everyone joins in the singing there in front of the church.
Then, in total silence, they walk in faithful procession to “God’s Acre,” an ancient cemetery, where all the graves, with their newly-polished gravestones, are covered with flowers. Even the oldest graves, some of them dating back three hundred years, are decorated with forsythia, jonquils, tulips, azaleas – whatever happens to be blooming at the time. The service concludes there, with more singing and remembrance of those who have died since the previous Easter. There, in the awesome silence, with the beauty of the flowers all around, it’s as if the living are united with the dead in worship. A writer who witnessed the event said, “When you are in the midst of all this majesty and beauty, you cannot fail to believe in the resurrection.”
This morning, we come together to celebrate the beauty and hope of the resurrection. It is a day of joy and of new life as we begin to see the first glimpses of spring all around us, the singing of the birds in the early morn, little buds on the trees and shoots peaking out from our gardens… and they bring us hope, even if spring comes late to northern New Englad. We trust that after a long, cold winter, spring will appear once again and it lightens our hearts and reminds us of God’s new creation.
This morning, in our reading from Matthew, we hear the story of the women who come to the tomb that early morning. Jesus steps out of that tomb, revealing anew and again and for the first time all at once what it means for God to overcome death. He tells his beloved friends, Mary, and Mary of Magdala to go to Galilee and tell his brothers that he’s coming; he wants them to return to where it all started, where the sea is salty and blue and the fish are fresh, where the waters may wash away the terrible memories of recent days, the grief, the anguish they have carried. And, Jesus says: “Do not be afraid,”—words that are spoken by God again and again throughout the Scriptures.
Maybe Jesus says this because he understands why his friends are afraid. Maybe this is a message to each of us all of these years later. Maybe Mary and the women know now more fully that their Rabbi, their beloved friend Jesus really is. . . Emmanuel- really is God—whose feet they have washed and dinners they have cooked, a friend whom they have trusted and loved. But perhaps, too, they are afraid because the people who scorned Jesus and told him to save himself are still here, too. Yet, we know that the powers of death could not stop the good news of Jesus. His message of compassion and love, of healing and hope; that is alive and living in our world…wherever tenderness and kindness are shown, wherever peace finds a way, wherever forgiveness is offered. The Good News of the Gospels lives on in each of us this day if we don’t allow fear to get in the way. Like the mustard seed, it grows without limit. Like water turned into wine, it surprises us with joy. Like loaves of bread, it expands to feed each hungry soul. And now, even in the face of death, it will not be buried or silenced.
As we celebrate the good news of Easter, let us also seek Christ in the faces of both our neighbors and strangers whom we meet in our journeys, and in the good works that are alive in this world.
Perhaps more than the other Gospels, Matthew describes this incredible morning as a seismic shift occurring: the earth quakes, the angel descends from heaven and rolls back the stone in dazzling grandeur, the Roman guards fall to the ground as if dead. For Matthew, the resurrection is not quiet or ambiguous. It is loud, astonishing, perhaps even a little fearful. And so the women are sent to Galilee to share the good news without fear.
I invite us this morning to see the world with eyes of Easter people, to really see the places where the good news of the resurrection is realized, the places where love is stronger than hate, where compassion is stronger than apathy, where peace is stronger than war. Let us look for the resurrection in both the loud and dramatic events as well as in the quiet and subtle moments? What is alive in you this morning? What is creating and dancing and moving in the world? For the women at the tomb, the good news is not just that the tomb is empty, but that the risen Christ is
still present with them. And he will continue to be seen and known in Galilee—and beyond.
How can we trust resurrection when we see so much suffering and pain, when we too often feel afraid? We can trust, because
the good news of God is more alive than anything that tries to kill God, more alive than anything that tries to silence the goodness of God within each of us. God shakes the earth with power and might so tender and so fresh it can make a tomb bloom with new life.
Where do we see God’s goodness in the world and in our lives? We can feel the love of God in our hearts through the kindness of others; we can feel the promise of hope with the dawn of new life springing forth this season and we can share the message to not be afraid with those we love. The promise of Easter reminds us that Love is always stronger than death and Hope is always greater than despair. We are Easter people so let us go forth and believe it!
Amen, alleluia.
(Commentary on Matthew 28:1-10 | by Rev. Lizzie McManus-Dail)
-Story from NC by Johnny Dean