Matthew 28:1-10
1After the Sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. 2And suddenly there was a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3His appearance was like lightning and his clothing white as snow. 4For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. 5But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. 6He is not here, for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. 7Then 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.’ This is my message for you. 8So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy and ran to tell his disciples. 9Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. 10Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid, go and tell my brothers and sisters to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”
They went to the tomb to see Jesus. Such a dark and dreary day, even if the sun was shining its brightest. The loss of their precious friend who meant the world to them was more than they could bear. They had to see the tomb. They had to be near him, even if he was lying lifeless in a cold grave in the absolute darkness. A chilly place, with walls that did not breathe, but emitted cold silence, a dry yet damp chill. Even there, in the finality of his death, would they still feel the power and loving presence that radiated from him in his life? Spectral wisps of all that made him so precious, like a person’s unique scent left in a room from which their physical presence has been absent?
They wanted to know if he was really dead, or if it was all a dream. Their friend, in whose presence they felt so safe, was here. So vital, so energizing, so life-giving. How could he be dead?
And so they went to see. And instead of a rock, or a cold, dark cave, they encountered a blinding light, a vision, terrifying, yet offering words of comfort. “He is not here.”
He is not here? “He has been raised. He’s on his way to Galilee. Get his disciples and tell them.” Get … what? Who? Where? How? “This is my message for you.”
For you. For YOU. The two Marys, brave women, ready to face the music and do what needed to be done to move forward into the future in their grieving, weeping, and wondering and questioning. Not Peter, James, John, other disciples…where were they, anyway? Off licking their wounds. Huddling in a state of shock. Hiding from the authorities wondering if they, too, might be next. Trying to make sense of everything that had happened since they took their first steps on the path of discipleship. They’d face that grave later. It wasn’t going anywhere. Who wanted to remember Jesus like that, anyway?
Two women, whose names would pop up occasionally in the great, long account of Jesus’ life and ministry. First to know. Facing the facts. Finding out, before they’d barely had a chance to breathe after a long time of holding their breath in grief and denial and sheer pain, that the angel’s message to them, for them, was, “He is not here.”
He is supposed to be here. He was so very much here, for such a very long time. While life went on in some ways as normal for the Marys and other women who supported and adored and learned and absorbed everything related to Jesus, in their preparations, their negotiations, their planning and their serving, it had not been the same since they first met him. He had become an anchor for them, a way in which God, who’d seemed so distant and uninvolved, was suddenly smack dab in the middle of all of their affairs. Jesus’ words were like nourishment coming from a highly power-packed, flavorful food. Small bites gave plenty for chewing. Satisfaction came from understanding and digesting. And yet, there was always room for more. Through Jesus’ words, they understood things that had made no sense before. He had become a part of their lives; a part of their being. And there was something about that presence, all that wisdom, all that humble power, that felt eternal. It felt like he would be with them always. How could it be that he had given himself so easily over to his captors? It was almost as if he had voluntarily, willingly, handed himself over. Why?
They knew, based on experience, that once again, there was purpose in this sacrifice and surrender. Their morning trek to the tomb was only the beginning of the sorting process, the effort to understand, the questioning and puzzling as to what the meaning was of this final act that appeared to be the opposite of all the life-giving, healing acts and multi-layered messages that had been a part of his, and their, journey to the cross. Death!
Even then, they believed – they truly believed – that something would come of it. They knew not what.
But they did not expect to find out that he was not there.
Jesus was not there, in that tomb, dead.
How many times have we run to tombs in our lives, only to find that Jesus is not there? We all have things in our lives that we hope will finally bring us the joy that we want; things that will help us to settle down, be happy, and know peace.
For some of us, wealth is our answer. With it, we can get the things that excite us: cars, electronics, homes, appliances, gadgets, conveniences, hobbies, trips, and big events. It gives us power: a knowledge that at the flash of a bill or two or the flourish of our signature, we can have what we want. But we soon find out that someone else has something better. Our stuff breaks, burns, and deteriorates. Our search for such things is like searching for Jesus in the empty tomb: he is not there.
Some of us search for Jesus through substances and experiences. We know that drugs and alcohol can bring good feelings at the pop of a pill or a puff or a needle prick. Food feels good, too, and not just for nourishment. Oh, what joy a juicy steak brings, or a nice piece of rich chocolate cake. Life has many kinds of highs. And yet, after the highs wear off and the stomach is full, the consequences of overindulgence set in. Whatever satisfaction we might get through substances and activities, those highs are temporary, and it’s like searching for Jesus in the empty tomb. He is not there.
Some of us search for Jesus in achievements. We can’t be satisfied unless we’re the best at what we do, or rest until we’ve gotten everything done. We have to be known and valued for doing virtuous things: working tirelessly, giving the most money, being on the most committees and organizations. But even then, it’s not always enough. Sometimes, even with all the recognition, our lack of self-esteem leads us to scramble toward an empty tomb, and, once again, we find that Jesus is not there.
Some of us look for Jesus in relationships with a significant other, a family, friends, to the point where we feel desperation and despair if we don’t have them. We live our lives, reaching the tomb, looking for Jesus, and finding out that he is not there.
What things exist in your life that are like this? What things in your life do you pursue over and over again, wrestle with, agonize over, and wish you could just FIX once and for all? And when you do achieve or acquire those things, do you find out they aren’t what you imagined or dreamed they would be? Or are you disappointed?
I suggest that we all are looking for is actually Jesus himself. We’re looking for a relationship with God, inside ourselves, in our deepest hearts and minds. We crave an awareness and knowledge of a presence within us that holds wisdom, love, compassion and strength. One that extends far beyond our bank accounts, or reputations, our possessions, our desires, and our relationships with other people. Not that any of these things are unimportant – they are all gifts to us from God. Their purpose is good: to be used as tools for service and sharing, as a part of our journey toward that empty tomb. Of course, we don’t want to just arrive at the empty tomb and notice that he is not there.
When we get there, we encounter the angel and the joyful news. Of course he is not here! He has risen again! He did not die, confined to the tomb. He rose again and is still alive, now more than ever, just as he was then, on his way to tell his disciples and the world that his death was not the end. He told them that while he would depart this earthly plane, he would remain with them, and in that way, he remained to also be with us, to help us to find the fulfillment in life we so desperately want. So instead of us searching for that fulfillment in him in all sorts of empty tombs, we would remember that it is in HIM that we find our rewards, our wealth, our achievement, the satisfaction of our desires and hungers, and our most fulfilling relationships.
And so, this is the Easter message for us: that the tomb was not the end. Jesus, and the power, love, compassion and wisdom that he embodied and brought into the world, did not die, but he rose again and he lived. He still lives, in us. When we approach our tombs – the places in our lives where we think we’ll find fulfillment, and they disappoint us, they are empty tombs. Jesus, the one we really need, is not there.
And so on this resurrection day, let us look to the risen Jesus, who lives again and, at our seeking and asking, enlightens our hearts, and provides us with all that we need for a fulfilling life. When we find ourselves striving and reaching for the things that ultimately do not satisfy us, let us remember to turn our sights toward Jesus, our risen savior.
Let us go from the empty tomb, and share that good news, and see where this resurrection promise takes us. Amen.
Views from the Valley 
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