Easter Sunday
April 12, 2020
Colossians 3:1-4; Matthew 28:1-10
In reading our Easter Scriptures, I was struck by the
movement in them, especially the vertical movement. At dawn, Mary Magdalene and
the other Mary went to the tomb. There was a great earthquake. An angel of the
Lord descended from heaven, rolled back the stone, and sat on it. His movement
was over, but he was not done talking about movement. He tells the women, “Do
not be afraid. I know you’re looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not
here. He has been raised. Go quickly and tell the disciples, ‘He has been
raised from the dead.’” The angel descended [downward movement]. Jesus rose up
[upward movement]. And then in Colossians, we also rise up [upward movement].
It says, “We have been raised with Christ.”[1]
And so, our movement is also upward, rising up.
‘Rise
up’ is our theme this Easter season. I chose it back last August at that
worship planning retreat I went to in Oklahoma, (which you’re either tired of
hearing about or glad it was money well spent!) and I think it’s still
appropriate even as we enter an Easter season like no other. It especially begs
the question, how do we rise up when our physical movements are restricted?
What does it look like to rise up during a season of physical distancing? Well,
there’s a song by contemporary Christian artist Lauren Daigle called “Still
Rolling Stones.”[2]
The first verse begins: “Out of the shadows/ Bound for the gallows/ A dead man
walking/ Till love came calling/ Rise up (rise up)/ Rise up (rise up)/ Six feet
under/ I thought it was over/ An answer to prayer/ The voice of a Savior/ Rise
up (rise up)/ Rise up (rise up). And the refrain goes: “All at once I came
alive/ This beating heart, these open eyes/ The grave let go/ The darkness
should have known/ (You're still rolling rolling, you're still rolling rolling
oh)/ You're still rolling stones/ (You're still rolling rolling oh)/ You're
still rolling stones.”
Now,
I recognize it’s a mixed metaphor, which can complicate things a little bit.
Rolling stones roll horizontally, maybe even downwardly, but certainly not
upwardly. Yet those rolling stones only get rolling because they rise up out of
the grave. The bridge of the song, towards the end, says: “I thought that I was
too far gone/ For everything I've done wrong/ Yeah, I'm the one who dug this
grave/ But You called my name/ You called my name.” And then returns to the
refrain: “All at once I came alive/ This beating heart, these open eyes/ The
grave let go/ The darkness should have known/ (You're still rolling rolling,
you're still rolling rolling oh)/ You're still rolling stones.” The stones are
buried six feet under in the ground. They’re as good as dead and its their own
fault. Yet Jesus calls our name. Jesus calls us by name to rise up! It’s the
same thing he told his friend, Lazarus, after Lazarus had died. He went to the
edge of the tomb and called for Lazarus to rise up and come out! Jesus is still
calling for us to rise up! We are still rolling stones. Even in our homes, even
physically distancing ourselves from each other, we are still raised with Christ.
We are still Easter people. So, how do we move and roll and rise up now?
Well,
we move horizontally and reach out to our neighbor and those in need. This was
the last commandment Jesus gave his disciples at the Last Supper. It’s actually
why Maundy Thursday is called Maundy Thursday; in Latin the word ‘Maundy’ is a
variation of the word for ‘commandment.’ In John’s version of the last supper,
Jesus tells his disciples, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one
another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”[3]
I know many of you are already reaching out to your neighbor, sharing food,
checking in on each other, driving by. Several of you have asked about ways to
help those who are in need. As a church we’ve given grocery gift cards to the
Judy Center in Columbia. Individually, I know many of you have been helping in
other ways as well. If you’re interested, give me a call or call Gayle Carter,
our Outreach Coordinator.
Second,
we also move vertically and reach up to God. Our Lenten theme was about
reconnecting with God, and I pray many of you were able to take the time to
draw closer to God. If you did, I encourage you to continue in the practices
that drew you closer so that you can stay reconnected. If you didn’t, then
there’s no time like the present to start strengthening your connection to God.
Set aside time to pray and read your bible every day. Journal and reflect on
what you read. Make sure your prayers aren’t all requests but also include
prayers of gratitude, praise, and confession. Regularly gather for worship. Find
ways to serve your neighbor and love them just as Jesus does. Talk about Jesus
with your family and friends. And find ways to give that meet the needs around
you. As Christians we reach out to our neighbor not because it’s a good thing
to do but because it’s what Jesus asks us to do. Doing what Jesus asks of us
helps to strengthen our relationship with him.
Finally,
we rise up as God’s people, as Easter people, as people of hope and faith and
love. We don’t play games with other people’s lives. When it’s within our power
to help, we help. Colossians 3:2 says, “Set your minds on things that are
above, not on things that are on earth.” That means we let partisanship die. It
means we are quick to listen, and slow to anger. It means we seek to
understand, and we offer grace and compassion. We help others rise up, too, and
don’t ignore those who need help nor put a stumbling block in their way. We
help each other rise up, regardless of what church they go to or don’t go to,
whether they look like us, talk like us, think like us, vote like us, do things
like us. The positive thing I’ve been hearing the newscasters say is that we’re
all in this together. So let’s rise up and help each other rise up. Let your
faith shine, let your light shine, rise up that the world may know the good
news of Easter and the reason for our hope.
I
don’t know how many of you saw it, but this past week went around a poem that
was a variation of Dr. Seuss’s “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.” It’s called
“How the Virus Stole Easter” by Kristi Bothur[4]:
Twas
late in ‘19 when the virus began
Bringing
chaos and fear to all people, each land.
People
were sick, hospitals full,
Doctors
overwhelmed, no one in school.
As
winter gave way to the promise of spring,
The
virus raged on, touching peasant and king.
People
hid in their homes from the enemy unseen.
They
YouTubed and Zoomed, social-distanced, and cleaned.
April
approached and churches were closed.
“There
won’t be an Easter,” the world supposed.
“There
won’t be church services, and egg hunts are out.
No
reason for new dresses when we can’t go about.”
Holy
Week started, as bleak as the rest.
The
world was focused on masks and on tests.
“Easter
can’t happen this year,” it proclaimed.
“Online
and at home, it just won’t be the same.”
Maundy
Thursday, Good Friday, the days came and went.
The
virus pressed on; it just would not relent.
The
world woke Sunday and nothing had changed.
The
virus still menaced, the people, estranged.
“Pooh
pooh to the saints,” the world was grumbling.
“They’re
finding out now that no Easter is coming.
“They’re
just waking up! We know just what they’ll do!
Their
mouths will hang open a minute or two,
And
then all the saints will all cry boo-hoo.
“That
noise,” said the world, “will be something to hear.”
So
it paused and the world put a hand to its ear.
And
it did hear a sound coming through all the skies.
It
started down low, then it started to rise.
But
the sound wasn’t depressed.
Why,
this sound was triumphant!
It
couldn’t be so!
But
it grew with abundance!
The
world stared around, popping its eyes.
Then
it shook! What it saw was a shocking surprise!
Every
saint in every nation, the tall and the small,
Was
celebrating Jesus in spite of it all!
It hadn’t
stopped Easter from coming! It came!
Somehow
or other, it came just the same!
And
the world with its life quite stuck in quarantine
Stood
puzzling and puzzling.
“Just
how can it be?”
“It
came without bonnets, it came without bunnies,
It
came without egg hunts, cantatas, or money.”
Then
the world thought of something it hadn’t before.
“Maybe
Easter,” it thought, “doesn’t come from a store.
Maybe
Easter, perhaps, means a little bit more.”
And
what happened then?
Well....the
story’s not done.
What
will YOU do?
Will
you share with that one
Or
two or more people needing hope in this night?
Will
you share the source of your life in this fight?
The
churches are empty - but so is the tomb,
And
Jesus is victor over death, doom, and gloom.
So
this year at Easter, let this be our prayer,
As
the virus still rages all around, everywhere.
May
the world see hope when it looks at God’s people.
May
the world see the church is not a building or steeple.
May
the world find Faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection,
May
the world find Joy in a time of dejection.
May
2020 be known as the year of survival,
But
not only that -
Let
it start a revival.
