The resurrection happened, dawn chased away the night, and chirping crickets cracked open the morning where a tomb stood open. Empty. Crickets. There was no fanfare; no parade or party, no smoke or lights; just an empty tomb. It came and went without any human intervention or participation.
In fact, Jesus’ congregation of friends and followers weren’t there. They were trembling together behind closed doors hiding from the power-hungry authorities too threatened by their movement to stop with killing only Jesus. I imagine they must have been experiencing a mix of disappointment, confusion and, mostly, fear. In that moment, Jesus wasn’t who they thought he was. They had given up their jobs, homes and security to follow him. What next?
If he was in fact royalty—Son of God, Immanual, the Christ, the King of Kings—it didn’t involve purple or velvet, pearl or gold. There was no royal court for the disciples’ glory. No trumpets or tambourines. No leaping for joy. No parade with soldiers and stallions.
The greatest miracle in the history of creation had happened without an audience or adoration. In his crowning achievement, God had not highlighted glory and gain but humility and sacrifice. The Son of God had been stripped of everything, dignity, clothing, flesh, friends. He was beaten, nailed to cross and bled until nothing but water ran from his body.
In his ministry, and especially during his final days, Jesus was asked over and over to prove who he was. Even the disciples desired his power to be measured by human standards of greatness. The final indignity that Jesus endured was the mocking sign nailed above his head: King of the Jews. Throughout his ministry, Jesus used every means available to show that God had sent Christ to teach a different kind of leadership. The first are last, and the last are first. One in in distress is more important than the comfort of ninety-nine. The quotient of a single human life is calculated using only one number: infinite worth.
Folks, Easter happened. The most powerful empire in the world had tried to squash it. Doors were closed and locked, a boulder rolled into place. But, the Resurrection still happened. Nothing fashioned by human hands or in the earth can stop Easter from happening: not empty sanctuaries; not a virus; not a national crisis. Let’s remember that we are Easter people everyday, and every Sunday is a mini-Ressurection. When the Holy Spirit came on Pentecost, Christ was fulfilling the promise he made to the disciples to be with them even though his body wasn’t. We have that same Spirit connecting all of us to God and one another across time and space.
Fear not Children of God! For the Spirit that God gives us doesn’t make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-control. And when it makes the least amount of sense, remember that Jesus taught us that Kingdom things will look foolish to those who are governed by the things of the world and by God. So, Easter-in-place and remember “there is one God and one mediator between God and humankind, Christ Jesus himself human, who gave himself a ransom for all” (1 Tim 2:5-6).
Rev. Ann deRosset Kovan
March 27, 2020
The Runnin' Rev 