“…so that we can have New Life”

(Matthew 28:1-10)

After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb.  And 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.  His appearance was like lightning and his clothing white as snow.  For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men.  But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified.  He is not here, for he has been raised, as he said.  Come see the place where he lay.  Then 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.”  So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy and ran to tell his disciples.  Suddenly Jesus me them and said, “Greetings!”  And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him.  Then Jesus said to them, ”Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers and sisters to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

              One of my favorite authors over the years has been Anne Lamott.  I haven’t heard much from her lately, though in preparing for today, I learned that she writes Substack articles and has published a book that she cowrote with her husband.  It was time for me to get caught up with her.

              A number of years ago Anne wrote a book on faith entitled, “Traveling Mercies.”  It’s still one of my favorites.  One particular chapter begins this way. “Broken things have been on my mind lately because much has broken in my life this year and in the lives of the people I love—hearts, health, confidence.”

              Many of us have experienced brokenness lately what with disease, sickness, death, sadness and worry.  This is not to mention the uncertainty and fear around what is going on in our country and in the world. 

              The death of my older brother and difficult diagnosis of the second brother has me thinking about mortality more than ever.  Feeling broken is a side effect, but doesn’t have to be inevitable, I find.

              Most of us know what it’s like to feel broken.  Perhaps it’s a job that is exhausting with no relief in sight.  Maybe we keep the secret about a troubled home situation.  Students may have trouble of some sort at school: academic and/or personal.  You may be fussing about the behavior or choices of a loved one.  You may be worried about the physical or mental illness of someone who is near and dear to you.  You may be feeling down and blue but don’t want to admit it.  You may be wondering how to make ends meet financially. 

              Perhaps you’re moving into a new phase of life and fussing over how you will live through the uncertainty, let alone adjust happily.

              You might be living with the haunting reality and accompanying guilt over your own behavior.  You may be on the verge of making a big change in your life.  You may be searching for your purpose or meaning in life.

              These are only some examples of our brokenness.  They manifest in various ways: through broken hearts—literally or symbolically, through broken trust, broken pride, broken bodies, broken confidences, broken lives.  There really is brokenness all around us.

              Anne Lamott’s book was written when her beloved preacher was still at her church.  Veronica moved in 2018 but was a huge influence in Anne’s life.  As an aside, Veronica has hit the big time, as far as I’m concerned.  She is quoted several times by this respected author who happened to be her parishioner.  Here’s what Anne writes about what Veronica had to say in regard to brokenness: “This is life’s nature; that lives and hearts get broken—those of people we love, those of people we’ll never meet.  The world sometimes feels like the waiting room of the emergency department and that we who are more or less okay for now, need to take the tenderest possible care of the more wounded people in the waiting room, until the healer comes.”

              Though we all live with brokenness, we can become wounded healers—until the healer comes.  That is, perhaps, one of the most important reasons we as the church, as the body of Christ, exist—to hold each other, to give love and comfort even in the midst of our own troubles—even as we are broken ourselves, even as we sometimes feel like the walking dead ourselves.  We are called to be God’s healers for each other for one more day—until the healer comes.

              It seems so simple—to be kind, to be compassionate, to be loving, and yet, in our world today, we are in the midst of a deluge of war-making, meanness, ugliness, dishonesty and fear-mongering.

              Today—Easter—is the day when we need to rise up, along with our Christ and sing of God’s ability to heal the most broken, to give life to the lifeless, to call the dead out of the tomb.  Easter is the Holy Day of New Life where there seems to be no life.  It is a day of joy when we have been in the midst of sorrow; it is a day of healing where there is brokenness.  Easter is the day of new beginnings, of New Life.  Jesus Christ is risen.  Death in the midst of dry bones has been conquered.  Brokenness has been mended.

              Today we can declare our trust in a God who can dwell among us, who can make the ultimate sacrifice, who is willing to die for us, and, then, to live again.  We can trust in the God of the empty tomb, the God of hope, the God who creates life out of what seems to be death, the God who allows us, who longs for us to die to our old selves and to live into the people we have been created to be. 

              So, are these just empty words in a world that is pessimistic, sarcastic, cynical, burned-out and broken?  Can we rise above being people who are wearing ourselves out searching for something—for anything—that will lend meaning to our lives?  Can we leave behind our old selves who have been seduced into thinking that money, power, possessions, busy-ness or popularity will give food to our starving spirits?

              So, here’s what I think is an answer to our questions.  We need to turn our eyes upon Jesus so that our guilt and shame, worry and need to control others, our need to succeed, acquire, possess, own and rule can fall away.

              We need to surrender ourselves to the God who can make us whole.  This is the God of Easter morning, the God of the empty tomb, the God who is always at work healing our brokenness, our world that is so messed up.  This is the God who can give us New Life as healers. 

Even when Jesus’ followers were confused, hopeless, without direction, the Risen Christ said, “Don’t be afraid, go and tell my brothers and sisters to go to Galilee; there they will see me.

Oh, I know, it seems like we as a nation, as a world, are broken beyond repair.  We wring our hands and tell each other how very hopeless everything is.  We know way too much about every little rotten thing that is said and done.  We can make a long list of what is happening that seems cosmic in its possible consequences. 

But, for today, listen to the resurrected Christ, “Don’t be afraid, go tell my sisters and brothers to go to Galilee.”  What you need to know is that Galilee is where the ministry happens, the teaching, the preaching, the healing, the sandwich making, the mat looming, the blanket tying, the singing, the church maintaining, the food donating, the loving and caring, the challenging of old, outdated understandings of being the church.  This is what happens in Galilee.  This is the place wherein we are brave and where we learn to live in the Jesus House.

So, what gives us hope?  It’s easy to say, “Oh, Christ is Risen, all is well, all is solved.”  I think we need to pay attention to the small things that happen each day: the meals shared, the attention paid to the little ones, the attempts when we all are trying to be better, the letters that implore our legislators to serve us, their constituents, pleading with them to end war and to find ways to care for immigrants, the smiles we can share amidst all the pain that is happening in peoples’ lives. 

And there’s the big stuff too.  Gratitude for the chance at a New Life for a guy like Rocky Pritchard with his lung transplant.  Gratitude for the people who make the decision to donate organs.  Gratitude for those who keep our focus on that which matters and those who bring us back from the precipice when we feel hopeless.  Gratitude for the Gospel that guides us into repentance, humbleness and leaning on God’s everlasting arms.

It is this Easter Day that reminds us of God’s ability to take our brokenness and hopelessness and make it brand new, that we may be recreated in God’s image.

After today we will all head back to Galilee, ready for our next lesson in Jesus’ love and righteousness.  …We don’t need to be afraid because we have been given a brand new start.  Let us be healers in a world that is suffering.  Christ is risen!  This is the power and the hope of our faith.  Amen.

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