Holy Week and Easter
We begin our sermon series on the Apostles’ Creed a bit out of order, with “Suffered under Pontius Pilate, was Crucified, Dead and Buried, the Third Day He Rose Again.” It is Easter, after all. Over the next few weeks, we will go through the Apostles’ Creed line by line, unpacking what it means and how the Creed shapes and defines our faith. We will discuss more about the history behind this Creed, the overall purpose of Creeds, and how we should engage with them next week, when we return to the first line of the Apostles’ Creed. I am going to do my best not to ramble, but I love a good creed, but like I said more on that next week. This week, we will focus on the line “Rose Again.”
But as I write this, it is still Maundy Thursday. It’s funny to me because I have an open bag of Reese’s Bunnies next to me, and I’m about to talk about how we celebrate Easter too quickly and get ahead of ourselves to avoid the discomfort of Jesus’ death. A little ironic, but they’re giving me the sugar boost to write, so we make compromises.
We often celebrate Easter quickly but forget what comes before it. The full line of the creed is “Suffered under Pontius Pilate, was Crucified, Dead, and Buried, the Third Day He Rose Again.” While we eagerly celebrate the resurrection, we tend to ignore the previous 2 ½ days. We avoid the suffering he endured, not only at the hands of Rome but also the betrayal and abandonment by those close to him, including his own people. We shy away from the true anguish and torture of dying on the Roman cross. We overlook Jesus’ mother watching her son die and mourning his loss. I understand that it’s uncomfortable to think about, but Jesus’ death should challenge us; that’s the core of the event. He was executed by a corrupt empire for sharing a different truth, and his own people turned against him for not meeting their expectations and challenging the status quo. Honestly, I believe we avoid contemplating this because it’s uncomfortable, and deep down, we realize we might have been in one of those camps. The simple truth is that there is no resurrection hope without death. But we prefer the Easter candy and all the commercialization that makes us feel warm and fuzzy inside. We make more plans for how to celebrate Easter than how to truly prepare for it.
For me, one of the greatest signs of hope in Jesus is that he understands what it means to suffer—to live on the margins, to be excluded, to be among the least, the last, and the lost. God not only knows that suffering exists but also what it truly means to suffer. That’s a huge gap. As someone who has lived with privilege, I’ve experienced ups and downs, successes and failures, but can I really say that I understand what it means to suffer? I know that suffering is real; I see it everywhere around me but seeing and truly knowing are different things. God doesn’t just see our suffering; God knows it because God has lived it. That solidarity has carried me through the darkest moments of my life, the truth that I am not alone. Hope isn’t just in the empty tomb but also in the Last Supper and the crucifixion.
On Sunday, we shall proclaim that the Lord is risen indeed! It is the death and resurrection of Christ that give our faith meaning, but do we recognize Him when He comes? Do we greet Him, or run and hide? When we know and believe in the risen Lord, we are called to share the Good News with everyone who will listen.
Each of the Gospels tells the Easter story somewhat differently. For example, there are variations in who visits the tomb first. Mary Magdalene always goes, but the others who accompany her differ. Are angels present, and if so, how many? Who, if anyone, sees the Risen Jesus? In Mark, there are no appearances. There is no single account of what happened that morning, and each story provides a slightly different lesson. This, after all, is why we have four Gospels. Each one offers us a different perspective on who Jesus was and is. Today, we focus on John’s account.
So, Mary Magdalene goes to the tomb early in the morning. Scholars have debated extensively why Mary chose to go there that day, partly because the Gospels do not agree on this issue. Some Gospels and scholars say that Mary goes to anoint Jesus’ body because they couldn't do so before the start of the Sabbath. According to John, that was all taken care of before sunset on Friday. (The Jewish day begins at sundown.) Honestly, the reason she was there doesn’t really matter. What matters is that she goes, and in every story, it’s only the women who are willing to go to the tomb while the men are scared and hiding in dark corners. Only the women have the courage to be seen, tending to Jesus or paying respects to Him. The disciples are certainly afraid for their lives. Peter was made before the night was over. They do not want to share the same fate as Jesus, even though Peter himself said he would. The men have any number of good reasons not to go out, but that does not make it the right thing to do. Mary is putting herself at risk. She was at the foot of the cross and now at His grave; it wouldn’t be surprising if she were arrested as well, but she is willing to take the risk for the one who gave everything to her.
Simply put, and I will say this again, we would not be here without Mary. Getting a bit ahead of myself, but Mary Magdalene was the first to share the Good News of Jesus’ resurrection. Not Peter or John, who argued over who was greatest a few days earlier, but Mary. For churches to not allow women to be pastors or leaders in the church is to deny the Gospel, for the first bearers of it were women.
When Mary arrives at the tomb and sees the stone rolled away and the tomb empty, how does she respond? Fear. Which is a very natural reaction. We shouldn’t judge Mary for her fear of the empty tomb because she was the only one bold enough to go. But how often do we see Good News and respond with fear at first? When I received the first call about coming to Heritage, well, when you get a call from the DS between January and March, it’s a scary moment. The DS doesn’t call you in late January just to chat… no, you're moving. Then the DS didn’t tell me what the church was. I was terrified because I had grown used to where I was, and there was the added weight of uncertainty about the future. Mary is partly afraid because she doesn’t know what comes next. Fear is a natural first reaction to something new, but it should not and cannot be our final reaction, as we limit what God can do next in our lives if we run away. I think Mary’s real fear is that someone stole the body, which wouldn’t have been out of the question. His body could have been stolen by the Romans to prevent the tomb from becoming a holy site and Jesus a martyr. It could have been stolen by looters because Jesus was in a fancy tomb, Joseph of Arimathea’s, and grave robbery wasn’t uncommon. What Mary and all who followed Jesus had forgotten was the promise of the third day.
Mary looks around and sees what she thinks is the gardener, begging him to tell her where Jesus’ body was because she cannot see who is actually standing in front of her. Again, don’t judge Mary too harshly. She is the only one who showed up, and in her mind, Jesus is supposed to be dead. Why would she think that this man was Jesus? The truth is right in front of her, but her mind won’t let her see it; her sight is blurred. How often have we done the same thing? I open the fridge to find something, but cannot see it. Emily comes and finds it immediately. It’s right in front of my eyes, yet I cannot see it, because I have limited my perception of what is possible.
We may look at the world around us and think that hope is nowhere to be found. Maybe our vision has also become blurred. Perhaps we struggle to see hope because we have convinced ourselves that it doesn’t exist. Jesus merely speaks her name, and she knows, recognizes, and has hope again. That is the meaning of this day: hope when everything seems lost. When we confess belief in Jesus, who suffered and died because of our sins, and that He rose from the dead, we declare hope in the midst of hardship. I believe that Mary never fully lost hope. The men, yes, they lost hope in just a few minutes. Mary's visit to the tomb is, in itself, a sign that she had hope. Maybe she hoped the tomb would be empty, or that she could find comfort, but certainly Mary believed that this story, His story, and her story weren’t over yet.
Sometimes, when we need hope, we have to seek it out, often right where our pain is. We see the results when hope is missing and fear takes over: you can't go anywhere where fear grows, and hope fades away. I’m not saying it's easy, because it isn’t, but if we truly want to find hope in Jesus, the cross, humanity, or ourselves, we must be willing to search for it. We need to open our eyes to see what God can do and not place human limits on God. If we do that, we might be surprised by what we find.
Join us for worship Easter Morning at 9 am or 11 am!
Also this is my first one of these so, thank you for your grace.
But as I write this, it is still Maundy Thursday. It’s funny to me because I have an open bag of Reese’s Bunnies next to me, and I’m about to talk about how we celebrate Easter too quickly and get ahead of ourselves to avoid the discomfort of Jesus’ death. A little ironic, but they’re giving me the sugar boost to write, so we make compromises.
We often celebrate Easter quickly but forget what comes before it. The full line of the creed is “Suffered under Pontius Pilate, was Crucified, Dead, and Buried, the Third Day He Rose Again.” While we eagerly celebrate the resurrection, we tend to ignore the previous 2 ½ days. We avoid the suffering he endured, not only at the hands of Rome but also the betrayal and abandonment by those close to him, including his own people. We shy away from the true anguish and torture of dying on the Roman cross. We overlook Jesus’ mother watching her son die and mourning his loss. I understand that it’s uncomfortable to think about, but Jesus’ death should challenge us; that’s the core of the event. He was executed by a corrupt empire for sharing a different truth, and his own people turned against him for not meeting their expectations and challenging the status quo. Honestly, I believe we avoid contemplating this because it’s uncomfortable, and deep down, we realize we might have been in one of those camps. The simple truth is that there is no resurrection hope without death. But we prefer the Easter candy and all the commercialization that makes us feel warm and fuzzy inside. We make more plans for how to celebrate Easter than how to truly prepare for it.
For me, one of the greatest signs of hope in Jesus is that he understands what it means to suffer—to live on the margins, to be excluded, to be among the least, the last, and the lost. God not only knows that suffering exists but also what it truly means to suffer. That’s a huge gap. As someone who has lived with privilege, I’ve experienced ups and downs, successes and failures, but can I really say that I understand what it means to suffer? I know that suffering is real; I see it everywhere around me but seeing and truly knowing are different things. God doesn’t just see our suffering; God knows it because God has lived it. That solidarity has carried me through the darkest moments of my life, the truth that I am not alone. Hope isn’t just in the empty tomb but also in the Last Supper and the crucifixion.
On Sunday, we shall proclaim that the Lord is risen indeed! It is the death and resurrection of Christ that give our faith meaning, but do we recognize Him when He comes? Do we greet Him, or run and hide? When we know and believe in the risen Lord, we are called to share the Good News with everyone who will listen.
Each of the Gospels tells the Easter story somewhat differently. For example, there are variations in who visits the tomb first. Mary Magdalene always goes, but the others who accompany her differ. Are angels present, and if so, how many? Who, if anyone, sees the Risen Jesus? In Mark, there are no appearances. There is no single account of what happened that morning, and each story provides a slightly different lesson. This, after all, is why we have four Gospels. Each one offers us a different perspective on who Jesus was and is. Today, we focus on John’s account.
So, Mary Magdalene goes to the tomb early in the morning. Scholars have debated extensively why Mary chose to go there that day, partly because the Gospels do not agree on this issue. Some Gospels and scholars say that Mary goes to anoint Jesus’ body because they couldn't do so before the start of the Sabbath. According to John, that was all taken care of before sunset on Friday. (The Jewish day begins at sundown.) Honestly, the reason she was there doesn’t really matter. What matters is that she goes, and in every story, it’s only the women who are willing to go to the tomb while the men are scared and hiding in dark corners. Only the women have the courage to be seen, tending to Jesus or paying respects to Him. The disciples are certainly afraid for their lives. Peter was made before the night was over. They do not want to share the same fate as Jesus, even though Peter himself said he would. The men have any number of good reasons not to go out, but that does not make it the right thing to do. Mary is putting herself at risk. She was at the foot of the cross and now at His grave; it wouldn’t be surprising if she were arrested as well, but she is willing to take the risk for the one who gave everything to her.
Simply put, and I will say this again, we would not be here without Mary. Getting a bit ahead of myself, but Mary Magdalene was the first to share the Good News of Jesus’ resurrection. Not Peter or John, who argued over who was greatest a few days earlier, but Mary. For churches to not allow women to be pastors or leaders in the church is to deny the Gospel, for the first bearers of it were women.
When Mary arrives at the tomb and sees the stone rolled away and the tomb empty, how does she respond? Fear. Which is a very natural reaction. We shouldn’t judge Mary for her fear of the empty tomb because she was the only one bold enough to go. But how often do we see Good News and respond with fear at first? When I received the first call about coming to Heritage, well, when you get a call from the DS between January and March, it’s a scary moment. The DS doesn’t call you in late January just to chat… no, you're moving. Then the DS didn’t tell me what the church was. I was terrified because I had grown used to where I was, and there was the added weight of uncertainty about the future. Mary is partly afraid because she doesn’t know what comes next. Fear is a natural first reaction to something new, but it should not and cannot be our final reaction, as we limit what God can do next in our lives if we run away. I think Mary’s real fear is that someone stole the body, which wouldn’t have been out of the question. His body could have been stolen by the Romans to prevent the tomb from becoming a holy site and Jesus a martyr. It could have been stolen by looters because Jesus was in a fancy tomb, Joseph of Arimathea’s, and grave robbery wasn’t uncommon. What Mary and all who followed Jesus had forgotten was the promise of the third day.
Mary looks around and sees what she thinks is the gardener, begging him to tell her where Jesus’ body was because she cannot see who is actually standing in front of her. Again, don’t judge Mary too harshly. She is the only one who showed up, and in her mind, Jesus is supposed to be dead. Why would she think that this man was Jesus? The truth is right in front of her, but her mind won’t let her see it; her sight is blurred. How often have we done the same thing? I open the fridge to find something, but cannot see it. Emily comes and finds it immediately. It’s right in front of my eyes, yet I cannot see it, because I have limited my perception of what is possible.
We may look at the world around us and think that hope is nowhere to be found. Maybe our vision has also become blurred. Perhaps we struggle to see hope because we have convinced ourselves that it doesn’t exist. Jesus merely speaks her name, and she knows, recognizes, and has hope again. That is the meaning of this day: hope when everything seems lost. When we confess belief in Jesus, who suffered and died because of our sins, and that He rose from the dead, we declare hope in the midst of hardship. I believe that Mary never fully lost hope. The men, yes, they lost hope in just a few minutes. Mary's visit to the tomb is, in itself, a sign that she had hope. Maybe she hoped the tomb would be empty, or that she could find comfort, but certainly Mary believed that this story, His story, and her story weren’t over yet.
Sometimes, when we need hope, we have to seek it out, often right where our pain is. We see the results when hope is missing and fear takes over: you can't go anywhere where fear grows, and hope fades away. I’m not saying it's easy, because it isn’t, but if we truly want to find hope in Jesus, the cross, humanity, or ourselves, we must be willing to search for it. We need to open our eyes to see what God can do and not place human limits on God. If we do that, we might be surprised by what we find.
Join us for worship Easter Morning at 9 am or 11 am!
Also this is my first one of these so, thank you for your grace.
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