“Found by Resurrection”
April 20, 2025
Rev. Rebecca Migliore
Easter Sunday! A day of flowers and music and colorful clothes and wonderful Alleluias! We shout, “Christ is Risen, Christ is Risen indeed!” It is a joyous Sunday. Death has been conquered and New Life awaits us. Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
And yet, when we read the gospel accounts of Easter, do you notice that that isn’t really the mood of the accounts? It isn’t bright sunlight that fills the stories of Easter, but the murkiness of the day just as the sun is rising. If you have ever been awake at that time of day, it is a magical time. You start in total darkness, and then, almost imperceptibly, something changes. The dark begins to lighten to gray, and you begin to be able to make out more than you could just minutes before. This process continues until all of a sudden, a ray of the sun breaks over the horizon and it is dawn!
I think this is such a wonderful description of how we come to resurrection, even how we might think of a life of faith. If someone who knew nothing of Christian life stepped into many sanctuaries this morning, they might think that we have it all figured out. Isn’t that what Resurrection means? God has had the victory. It is done. We have won! We shout in joy and run to tell the news.
But if someone were to show up any other Sunday, or any other day of the week, or if we are honest about how we feel, even today, another story surfaces. A story that is as old as can be. A story that is less decisive. A story that has many shadows. A story in the process of being told. A story that might seem less powerful, and yet, to me, it is exactly the story that we need to hear.
It struck me this year as I listened to the gospel accounts of Easter that no one was expecting resurrection. Even though Jesus had been talking about being killed and then rising on the third day. It was a fanciful tale. Even though they had been there when Jesus had raised some from the dead! But grief weighed them down.
Disappointment in the events that had just taken place. Feelings of abandonment. Maybe even of anger. How had this come to pass? How could one of their own, one in the special circle, have betrayed him? How could most of the followers have turned tail and fled as the might of the religious authorities and the state did their worst? How could their Lord--the Messiah, the Christ--have been treated that way, have died that way, his body growing cold as they wrapped him in the shroud, and they didn’t even have time to anoint him properly. How could God have allowed it to happen?
When the women come to the tomb in Luke, when Mary comes to the tomb in John, they are not expecting anything but more of the same. And yet. They are found by resurrection. And if we look at the men in this account, they too are not expecting much. They aren’t even at the tomb. They are tucked away, mulling over what has happened. What they did and didn’t do. The future, what future?, must have seemed bleak indeed. I can imagine that they have already started to think about whether they can go back to the way things had been before. Were their boats still sea-worthy? Would their families welcome them back with open arms? What would life be like now?
And so, when the women come rushing back with this incredible, fantastic (as in a fantasy) tale about the stone rolled away and these glowing “men” talking about the dead not being dead but being living—they think the women are hysterical. They have imagined something that cannot be. The men are found by resurrection too, even if they don’t believe at first. Even if they have many doubts. Even if it is just a momentary flicker of hope. Even if they shake their heads in disbelief.
We have one more snapshot. Of Peter. The one who was so filled with the Spirit that he was the first to proclaim Jesus was the Christ, the One of God. And the one who was cowardly enough not to acknowledge his association with Jesus.
When the chips were down, when the worst was happening, Peter didn’t stand up, loud and proud. No, Peter denied even knowing Jesus. And in Luke’s story, Jesus looks straight at Peter when it happens. It was bad enough that Jesus suggested it might happen. But when Peter betrayed his Lord, Jesus heard, Jesus saw, Jesus had looked him right in the eye.
Peter, of all the disciples, allowed that glimmer of hope to take root. Peter didn’t know what to make of it, but he got up, he ran to the tomb, he saw the emptiness, the grave sheet just lying there. Notice that there are no dazzling messengers for Peter. There is no duplication of the Transfiguration moment. There is no message “he is risen.” And we aren’t told that Peter saw and believed. We are told only that he was amazed. In awe. And we aren’t told that he ran and told anyone. He went home.
All these people are found by resurrection. That was the message I heard loud and clear this week. Resurrection is something that finds us. Even in our darkest moments. Even in our shame. Even in our grief. Even if we don’t believe. Even if we are not sure what to believe. Resurrection is not dependent on us. It is a gift. It is like a wisp of fog rising from the ground. It is like an aroma that tickles our noses. It is like a flicker in the periphery of our vision. It is like that moment of dawn. It is not complete. We don’t see it head on. We don’t understand it. We might not even believe it. None of that makes one bit of difference. It is. Whether we believe it or not, It is. The question is: once we have been found by resurrection, what do we do then?
My reaction to this musing today? What a relief! I don’t have to pretend that everything is going swimmingly in our world. I don’t have to gloss over the pain and suffering we encounter daily. I don’t have to pretend that hatred and greed and all forms of evil don’t still wrest so much power in this world. I don’t have to try to convince you to feel anything other than what you are feeling. Because this “resurrection” isn’t something that we bring on.
This, like the Incarnation, is all God. And although we lift up Resurrection on Easter Sunday, we know that this is not the end of the story.
And our writer, Luke, pushes this point. Of all the gospels, his story continues past the resurrection the longest. Luke doesn’t just have post-resurrection appearances. Luke doesn’t stop with Jesus ascending into the clouds, and sending us forth into the world. Luke takes a whole other book, the book of Acts, to talk about the unfolding of Resurrection. For it is in Resurrection that Peter goes from the guy who denied Jesus, to the guy who proclaims Jesus on the steps of the temple. For it is in Resurrection that people stumble upon Jesus along the way to Emmaus. For it is in Resurrection that the church is born at Pentecost. It is in Resurrection that Paul is called on the road to Damascus, and Peter is given messages in dreams. Resurrection, and the new life it brings, comes in so many forms, to so many people.
Easter Sunday isn’t the end but the beginning. It is the beginning of a deeper understanding of the power and scope of God’s love for this world. It is the beginning of the acknowledgement that God is not done with us yet. It is the beginning of the sense that we too are touched by this thing we call resurrection, and it might change the way we do things, the way we think of things, the way we look at ourselves and our world.
Beginnings are so full of promise. We have a clean slate (isn’t that one of the reasons we are so joyful at the start of a new year?). But we allow our beginnings to fade. Today reminds us that God is always offering us a new beginning. In our remembering our baptism. In the forgiveness after confession. In our being called to God’s table. In our being sent out into God’s world to do our best, to make a difference in our own little corner of our own little world.
Easter says to us “Don’t allow yourselves to be discouraged;” You will be found by resurrection. Easter reminds us God says, “I’m not finished with you yet;” You will be found by resurrection.
Easter is the time when God worms God’s way into the hidey holes where we have hidden, and amazes us, awes us, gives us a pep talk. “Why are you still expecting the dead? Why are you looking for me here? The stones are speaking—they are rolled away. The sunlight of God streams into the darkness of the grave. Turn around. Go on your way. Bring the message of hope and joy and love and peace to the world.”
Easter Sunday! Yes, it is a time to celebrate. Yes, it is a time to throw off the somber hues of Lent and feast our eyes on color and light. Yes, it is a time to shout and sing and ring. Yes, Christ is Risen, Christ is Risen Indeed. And yet, this is not the finale but the overture. We hear strains of what is yet to come. We are filled with the excitement about how the story will unfold. And wonder of wonders, we are invited up on stage, to play our part, to sing our songs, to speak our lines, to find ourselves part of a greater community than we could ever have imagined.
That is what it means to be found by resurrection. And we cannot believe our ears. We shake our heads in disbelief. This can’t be happening? This can’t be real, can it? The God of heaven and earth finding us. Giving us a message too good to be true. Propelling us into actions we never imagined. Nudging us to step out in faith. Promising that we are family. Offering a new way of life, a new life. Not just once. Not just twice. But every time we turn around. Really? Say it again. Tell us again.
Yes, we are found by resurrection today and every day.
Thank Be to God!
Christ is Risen! Christ is Risen Indeed!
Alleluia, Amen.
