Theological Truth: The Resurrection invites us into new life in unexpected places.
Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
The Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem is an enormous structure which encompasses many of the most sacred sites of Jesus’ final days on earth, including the site of his crucifixion and the stone on which is body was anointed before burial.
But the longest lines are for the holiest site of all: a glimpse into the tomb in which he was laid.
I waited in that line in 2010. I was cautioned that the monks monitoring visitors had no sense of humor and zero tolerance for tourists exceeding their allotted five seconds. I’m not sure what I expected to find or feel or see in there, and I’m embarrassed to admit this…but I came out a little disappointed.
I realize how ridiculous that sounds. Like watching the sun set over the Grand Canyon and saying,
“Meh…I guess it’s ok…for a big hole in the ground?”
But it was just an empty little cave. There wasn’t anything in there. There wasn’t anyone in there. And that’s the point.
Jesus isn’t in the tomb anymore. Death no longer has dominion over him. Why was I thinking I’d find him in the tomb? That is literally the last place his earthly body would be.
Luke tells us that the women at the tomb don’t find Jesus either. They expected to. They bring the spices they’ve prepared to anoint their friend’s body. They thought they knew where to find him. Luke is careful to tell us,
“The women who had come with him from Galilee followed, and they saw the tomb and how his body was laid.” (Luke 23:55).
Of course they don’t remember his words about being handed over to sinners, and being crucified and then on the third day rising again.
Who could blame them? Their hope died along with Jesus. The trauma, loss and grief of his crucifixion incapacitate their memories. Fear and desperation limit their imaginations.
Despite finding the stone rolled away and the burial cloths cast aside, they’re perplexed. They assume that death is the end, so naturally they’re puzzled when Jesus’ body is gone.
Fortunately, two men in dazzling clothes appear. They remind the women of the promise; they help them re-member that Jesus consistently defied expectations.
“Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen.” (Luke 24:5b)
Let’s not be too hard on the women, though. At least they went looking! (As they do in all four of the Gospel accounts!) Even when they go back, telling all of this to the “eleven and all the rest,” they dismiss it as an “idle tale.” I imagine the guys are too busy arguing over next steps and who should be in charge.
The disciples are looking for the living among the dead too. They’re resorting to the same way of life that had proven to be a dead-end, that didn’t and still doesn’t give true life. Jesus isn’t where they expect him to be either.
The love and grace and mercy of God exceeds our expectations too. So why do we continue to expect to find the living among the dead?
Pope Francis asked that question to the faithful gathered at St. Peter’s Square:
“How often do we search for life among inert things, among things that cannot give life, among things that are here today and gone tomorrow, among the things that pass away?”
He suggests asking ourselves, “Are we seeking the living among the dead?”
Ask this, he suggests,
“When we shut ourselves in any form of selfishness or self-complacency; when we allow ourselves to be seduced by worldly powers and by the things of this world, forgetting God and neighbor; when we place our hope in worldly vanities, in money, in success.”(Pope Francis, General Audience, 4/23/2014).
New, risen, true and eternal life is offered to us in the risen Christ. Why would we expect to find the living among the dead?
We also shouldn’t expect to find the risen Christ in a glorified, sanitized, or romanticized history of either our country or our church. God is neither fooled nor impressed by our self-styled façade of perfection —past or present — no matter how badly we may want/need to believe it.
When Jesus appears, he doesn’t waste time with accusations or recriminations. The risen Christ is too focused on completing the work of ushering in God’s kingdom, God’s way of love, mercy, forgiveness, compassion, and inclusion. That’s where he’ll be. That’s where we can expect to find him. Not in the tomb, but in the world’s least likeliest places — the places the world would least like to be: with the last, the lost, and the least.
Ask the people who’ve been to visit our brothers and sisters in Honduras, one of the poorest places in this hemisphere. Did they bring Jesus to them, or did they find the risen Christ in those joyful, faithful people? Or the teams that cook, serve and clean in Trinity’s Noon lunch program? Do they introduce resurrection life to the guests, or do the guests breathe new life into them? Or the teams visiting prisons all over the country. Or those bringing Communion to the homebound.
Jesus is in these unlikely places. If we trust enough to look there, instead of among the various dead-end options we’re offered a thousand times a day from a thousand different sources, we’ll find him too.
My mom and dad showed me how to find the power of this Resurrection Life in the least likeliest of places. They did it with their ever-widening openness to and acceptance of those who differed from them. They did it with their unhesitating generosity and their radical sense of hospitality. They even found the power of Easter living in the least likeliest place of all: the final stages of their life.
I remember getting a call from my dad asking me to come and help him. My mom had fallen while transferring from her chair to her wheelchair. She was ok, but he couldn’t get her up on his own. Shannon and I got there as soon as we could, but almost an hour had elapsed before we rushed in. We found them sitting on the floor together, laughing and eating microwave popcorn.
They had stopped looking for life among the dead standards of the world. They were finding resurrection life where most wouldn’t expect it: in diminishment and vulnerability, even in death.
Because Christ has been raised from the dead, we too are liberated from the threat of death. We have nothing to fear, not even death. Christ has carried the entire frailty and failures of the human experience on his shoulders down to death and the grave and has come out on the other side with us in tow.
The stone which the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone. We expected him to be in one place, but he’s in a much different place. And so is the world.
He’s not with the dead, he’s with the living. And he takes us all with him. Why would we look anywhere else?
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Readings this week: Isaiah 65:17-25; Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24; 1 Corinthians 15:19-26; Luke 24:1-12
Easter Sunday, Year C, April 17, 2022
