April 20, 2025

Easter Sunday, Year C

Luke 24:1-12

Epiphany, Winnipeg

OK, so help me remember.

Christ is risen? He is risen indeed! Hallelujah!

Christ is risen? He is risen indeed! Hallellujah!

OK, now I’m starting to remember.

I love the way that Luke tells us all about Easter. There’s no frantic energy, and very little running around. No one really loses their cool or gets all pumped up about it. In fact, if you read all four gospel stories of the resurrection, you’ll see that there are all kinds of differences between them, and one thing that’s unique to Luke is that there’s hardly any running.

A handful of women come to the tomb. Mary Magdalene, another Mary, Joanna, and a few others have come with spices and gifts to lay at the tomb, but the grave is open, the body’s gone, and they are…perplexed. Perplexed? That’s a bit understated, isn’t it? And then two strange dazzling men appear, we’ll call them angels, and the women are afraid – so afraid that they bow their faces to the ground - and the men say, “He’s not here; he’s risen. Remember how he told you that he would have to be handed over to sinners, and be killed, and on the third day rise?”

Imagine them counting on their fingers then – “Friday, Saturday, Sunday; hey, it’s the third day!” Then they remembered, and nobody said wow or burst into tears of joy or sang a song. They just remembered, and they went back and told the men. And the men said, “Acch. These women. What an silly story to tell.” I think they were just waiting for their next meeting so they could say it and act like it was their idea. Then there’s one brief moment of action: Peter runs to the tomb. He looks in and sees that Jesus isn’t there, and then what does he do? He goes home. Amazed, but he just goes home.

It’s a low speed kind of story, and the big moment is when these women who come to the tomb are reminded of what Jesus said, and then they remember. They go and tell the others, and soon enough, the others remember too. Even the men eventually remembered; they remembered so much that they kind of took over telling the story for most of the next two thousand years, but that’s maybe a story for another day.

Luke’s telling of Easter is a good gift today for anyone who’s run out of steam or is having a hard time mustering up enthusiasm on demand. Because today we hear of tired people, whose world seemed to be coming apart, and what they get is a reminder of what Jesus said. And they remember.

Christ is risen. He is risen indeed. Maybe it doesn’t need exclamation marks. It’s just a gentle reminder to a weary world that life has won. It’s going to be OK.

We need that reminder, especially when it seems so clear that everything is not OK; especially when the news cycle just tires us out and wears us down. Once again I don’t think I need to name it all: Just take a minute to think of the places and situations, or the people you know or the ones you only hear about in the news….where it seems like life has been closed up in a tomb with a big old boulder rolled up against the door. When we and the world are tired and running out of hope we need that reminder that racism will not win, hate will not win, fear will not win, money will not win, carbon will not win, and death will not win. The risen Christ couldn’t be kept in the grave, and life will not be kept there either.

So an election’s around the corner, and we need that reminder….that life will long outlast the Liberals, Conservatives, NDP, Bloc Quebecois or Greens and whoever leads them all. An election is important but it does not have the power to ruin everything. The bitter hatred and fear of the other – the other party, the other leader, the other perspective - that so many of our leaders close to home and all over the world seem to want to stir up….This cannot finally stand up to the love of the risen Christ and the life of the risen Christ.

We need the reminder to fall closer to home too, because it’s not just the world out there that’s broken. The world inside, here inside me, and inside you, can be so put down and so hurt by fear, or by insult from outside or from inside. You know the details of that for yourselves. At school or at work or at home, maybe we all get these messages sometimes that we’re just not good enough. Or the things we have to do each day – studying enough, measuring up on the job, satisfying the demands of the people around you, are just too frightening. Or the fear and worry of finding the next meal or place to stay wears you down. Or the tapes that play inside, sort of like your own voice, they keep telling you that you really blew that, or you’re just not good enough, and it’s so hard to hear anything else.

Remember what Jesus said? He’ll be handed over and be killed and after three days will rise. After three days will rise. And whatever put him to death will lose, because the life and the love of Christ are stronger than any of the messages that we take up inside or that we make up inside that tell us we don’t matter. Because Christ is risen to give life to the world, to creation, to the human community, to you and to me, and you matter, and we matter, and this life matters. And because we hear this reminder that Christ is risen, we also hear that life and love have risen and will not be kept in the grave. And because Christ couldn’t be kept in the grave, then good news can’t be kept in the grave. We never need to be kept quiet or kept down, and we never need to give up, or stop living, or caring or loving. Because life and love have already won.

Remember?

There’s one other little hook to the story, and it’s this: The way Luke tells it, nobody sees the risen Jesus yet. They just see an empty tomb. Now an empty tomb doesn’t really prove anything by itself. It just proves that the tomb is empty. Angels appear and announce the news that Christ is risen, but for now the women, and the disciples, and anyone who hears still doesn’t see the risen Jesus. Just an empty tomb.

It’s a small detail but it’s important, because sometimes, even on Easter Sunday, it might be hard to see much more than an empty tomb; it might be hard to see the risen Jesus. And if that’s you or me today, that’s OK. We’re in good company.

And somebody’s been here to remind us.

That’s why we’re together. We come here today to hear the news, to be reminded of the news, and to remind each other, because sometimes any one of us can forget, so that all we can see is an empty tomb. But there’s always someone who remembers. So we’re called together to remind each other. Sometimes the pastor has to remind everyone – remember what Jesus said? And sometimes someone’s got to remind the pastor – remember what Jesus said? Because the pastor forgets too.

We come together to remember and to remind each other. You might be the one who needs the reminder. You might be the one that someone else needs to hear as you sing and say Amen and Peace be with you….and all those other reminders.

And we gather at a table today, where the risen Christ does meet us, in bread and wine that he names his own flesh and blood. The risen Christ doesn’t just remind us, but comes to dine with us.

Then we’re sent out to remind a weary world. To help the weary world to remember that suffering and loss and fear will not last a lifetime. To live in a weary world as though it’s true, that because Jesus is raised on the third day, doom and death will never have the last word. To be at home in a weary world, waking up to the news that the love and life of the risen Christ are making it all new today.

Remember? Christ is risen. He is risen indeed.

Today we’re reminded, today we remember, today we taste and see.

Look at one another. Remind each other: Christ is risen. Christ is risen indeed. Christ is risen. Christ is risen indeed.