Sermons

“Go and Tell”

Psalm 118:14-24; Matthew 28:1-10 – Rev. Rebecca Littlejohn

Vista La Mesa Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), La Mesa, California – April 16, 2017

Easter Sunday

Holy God, bless the speaking and the hearing of these words, that we might receive the good news and share it. In the name of the Risen Christ, we pray, Amen.

I love that Matthew has this frightfully impressive angel descend from heaven and cause an earthquake rolling that stone back, and then sit on it. I can’t decide if it makes the angel less scary or if it’s a gesture of conquering that big, old rock. If he was trying to be frightening, you’d think he’d stand on the stone, pulled up to his full, angelic height. But apparently that wasn’t necessary. The guards fainted dead away, and the angel immediately had to start reassuring the women that everything was okay. And thus begins the repeated refrain of this interchange.

On Friday afternoon, Mary Jane and I sat in here and read the Passion accounts from all four gospels all the way through, one after another. It’s interesting what you notice when you do it that way. The particularities of each version become more striking. And it’s no different with the resurrection narratives. Matthew is the only gospel writer who has this lightning-looking, white-as-snow-clothed, earthquake-causing heavenly being sitting perched on the stone that was once such a formidable barrier. Matthew is also the only who uses repetition to get the point across. Did you hear it? There is a clear three-fold message here: “Do not be afraid. Go and tell. Jesus is going ahead of you.” It’s what the angel says to the Marys, and then when Jesus appears, he says the same things, in the same order, if not in exactly the same words. “Do not be afraid. Go and tell. I am going ahead of you.” These are good instructions.

First things first, it seems like angels are always telling us not to be afraid. This is, presumably, partially because humans aren’t used to angels showing up and evidently, they’re sort of intimidating when they do. But the insistence with which this refrain echoes through scripture gives the impression that the message is about something broader than the messengers. The truth is, our world is a scary place. Wars and rumors of wars, chemical weapons, bombs bigger than we can imagine, lead in our water, hatred in our airwaves – it’s a wonder we dare to open our eyes in the morning. In this respect, our times are not that different from biblical times. If you’re looking for it, the fingerprints of brutal empire are all over the passion story: The casual violence of flogging someone you are considering releasing because you’ve decided he’s innocent, the matter-of-fact conscription of a random visitor to do the hard part of the empire’s practice of capital punishment by carrying the cross, the competing agendas of religious authorities trying to escape blame while the empire remains intent on humiliating all segments of the occupied populations – there was a lot to be afraid of in first century Palestine.

Our world is different in some ways, but then again, the Bible tells us truly that there is nothing new under the sun. I was thinking this week about how tempting it is to simply close off our ears to the ugly news of the day. And I realized that it’s precisely because of this story, this central testimony of our faith that Christians are equipped to deal with the global horrors of life in the 21^st century. The Easter story shows us that by the power of God, the evil in the world can be faced and endured and transformed by the power of love. God’s methods for that are rarely our first instinct, but with time and careful attention to the ways of Christ, we can gradually develop holier tendencies. And that starts with not being afraid, or at least with not letting fear dictate our actions.

Go and tell. This is the big one. It was big for the Marys, receiving astonishing instructions there at the tomb, for who would believe them? But both the angel and Jesus told them to go back to the rest of the disciples and tell them to head back to Galilee. According to Matthew’s version, they must have believed them, because they did exactly that. On this particular point, some of the other version may make more sense, because they have Peter and other disciples witnessing the empty tomb as well, though they didn’t see Jesus there. Also in their favor was that it was around this time that it started dawning on everyone that Jesus had actually tried to warn them about this. ‘Remember how he said he’d be killed and on the third day be raised? This must be what he was talking about. I’d assumed that was just metaphorical God-talk, but I guess he meant it. Huh.’ So the disciples had been primed for the Marys to go and tell them that he had risen. But what about us?

Did any of you ever have a memorable writing teacher? I don’t know that I had one in particular that stood out, but there is a lesson from my various writing classes, summed up in one line, that has stuck with me. What were they always saying? ‘Show, don’t tell.’ They meant, of course, that rather than describing how a character felt, or some such thing, good writing would show us those feelings by how the character behaved. It turns out that being shown something is far more compelling than being told. This is as true for the gospel as it is for novels. So when we hear Jesus say “Go and tell” we need to know that he isn’t just talking about how we use our words. Jesus is asking us to practice resurrection in a world stuck in Holy Saturday. Do not be afraid, indeed!

Have you seen this happen? Has someone shown you what it means that Jesus is risen? Have you experienced the truth that love is stronger than the forces of death? There are so many thousands of ways for this story to be told, some of them more life-and-death than others, but really, it’s all life and death, isn’t it? I saw a story yesterday about mental health in Zimbabwe. There is apparently a fairly strong stigma attached to seeking assistance with mental health issues in Zimbabwe, not unlike here. But according to the video I was watching, there are only 13 psychologists in the whole country. So someone decided to come at it another way. They installed dozens of what they’re calling “Friendship Benches”. And then they trained a cohort of grandmothers to sit on those benches and help people talk through their problems. People struggling with depression or despair got help, and the grandmothers got a new sense of purpose and a way to stave off their own loneliness. To find new and creative ways to uplift the dignity and worth of people who are struggling is to practice resurrection.

Did you know that there are people who run toward the explosions that happen in Syria? Have you heard about the White Helmets? There are citizens who have banded together, in the midst of the brutal civil war in Syria, to do everything they can to rescue people from bombed out buildings. When things explode, the White Helmets show up to search through rubble and carry their neighbors to (relative) safety. Finding life in the midst of death and destruction is practicing resurrection in a Holy Saturday world.

What if there were people whom the world has failed? People whose dignity has been violated, who have had almost everything taken from them, whom society has basically decided are not worth worrying about? What if we were to welcome them in, and feed them and clothe them, and give them a safe place to rest and bathe and restore their souls? Is not a Saturday morning spent this way also a way of practicing resurrection? The forces of death take many forms. Our resistance has even more possible responses.

But there is another theme here we can’t afford to miss. There is something fundamental in that commandment to “go and tell.” The point is that the gospel – the good news that Christ is risen, alleluia, and thus we declare that love is stronger than death or violence or hatred or humiliation – the gospel is designed to be shared. It doesn’t come in individual serving packets. It’s not something to keep to yourself. Heaven knows the world needs this news. We need to be told. We need to be shown. We need to told and shown, over and over and over again. That world that is so scary, stuck out there in the terrified, hopeless waiting of Holy Saturday? That world needs to know what we’re trying to proclaim here this morning. That Jesus was raised is not just about Jesus. It’s not something only friends of Jesus need to care about. Matthew makes clear that this whole thing was a cosmic event. There were multiple earthquakes and an eclipse, showing us that what was happening had cosmic significance. People need to know. This is news we need to share. That’s how it works. It is designed to bring us together, to uplift one another, to restore the dignity of new friends and neighbors, to seek life in the midst of death and destruction. We practice resurrection in a Holy Saturday world by proclaiming the gospel together. “Share the Joy” as we put it here at VLM.

So what about that last part? There were three parts to this Easter morning message, remember? “Do not be afraid. Go and tell. I am going ahead of you.” So what does that mean? Is Jesus out frolicking with unicorns and daisies in some resurrection meadow, where everything is awesome? Uh, no. That’s not what he meant. What he means is that when we finally get brave enough to go and tell, to go and show, to go out and live the gospel in places that are still stuck in the darkness and despair of yesterday, he will be there already. He will be present in the hungry people who need to be fed. He will meet us in the places where we are called to restore dignity and re-build homes. It’s like the song says, “Be not afraid. I go before you always. Come, follow me, and I will give you rest.” We can leave our fear behind, and go out and share the good news, because we know that the Risen Christ goes before us. Alleluia and Amen!