Matthew 28:1-10
Afraid yet filled with joy, the gospel
says of the two women who witnessed the empty tomb. Have you ever
felt that way? I certainly have, many times. When I got married –
my whole life was changed and there was this other person that would
enter into every decision I made, every action I took. That was a
huge change. I was afraid. And yet I was filled with joy, because I
wanted nothing more than to be with the one I loved, and that was
finally happening. And when our first, and second, and third,
fourth, fifth and sixth children were born – joy because we loved
the new life that we had brought into the world, we and God; and at
the same time, we recognized that we were bound to that child for the
rest of our lives, that even in old age, even when the child was
fully grown and independent, we would always worry like parents do.
Afraid, yet filled with joy.
We are here because at some level we
believe the central doctrine of Christianity, that Jesus Christ truly
died, and truly rose again. He did not just come alive again; he
returned to life changed. He was able to appear and disappear; he
was often not recognized until he allowed himself to be recognized;
he could ascend into heaven; and yet you could touch him, see him,
hear him. And he bore the marks of his suffering on his resurrected
body, and will do so for all eternity. But most important, he had
conquered death and assured his followers that death could no longer
conquer them either.
This is great news. But I think most
Christians, even those who believe that the Resurrection really
happened, are indifferent to it. Does the fact that it happened
impact on their lives? Often, the answer is no. There are other
Christians, unfortunately, who explain away the Resurrection. Maybe
it was wishful thinking on the part of the apostles. Maybe it was a
mass hallucination. Maybe it was the way the apostles expressed
their conviction that Christ continued to work through them. And yet
Paul tells us that if it did not take place, we are the most foolish
of men. And he goes on to tell us that at least five hundred people
personally witnessed Jesus' resurrection.
But the third group of Christians, and
perhaps it is a very small group, are like the two Marys. They are
afraid, yet filled with joy. Filled with joy we can understand;
Jesus lives! Death is conquered! Heaven is assured for those who love
him and follow him. Everything he promised before he died can be
guaranteed – “I have promised, and I will do it” said the Lord
to Ezekiel the prophet.
But afraid, because they realize that
Jesus' resurrection is life changing. We have mixed feelings about
Jesus, let us face that.
We like that he taught love, but we
aren't sure about his command to love our enemies.
We like that he helped the
unfortunate, but we aren't sure about his command to go sell what we
have and give the money to the poor.
We like that he threw the money
changers out of the temple for cheating the people, but we'd just as
soon continue to buy clothing and food at prices that don't allow
their producers to live a dignified life.
We like that Jesus is a friend to tax
collectors and sinners and even lepers, but we'd rather not form true
friendships with people who are beneath us socially or different from
us in terms of race or religion.
And I could go on. I think you can
see that the more you think about the Resurrection, the more you see
that if you take it seriously it is life changing. And no one likes
to be changed.
But Jesus invites us to enter into his
Resurrection not at the end of our lives, not at some distant day in
the future, but right now. And we can't say he doesn't tell us how
to do this. He says, “whoever seeks to save his life will lose it,
but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.” He says,
“All who love me will do what I have commanded, and the Father and
I will come and make our home with him”. He says, “Come Blessed
of my Father, enter into your inheritance. … Whatever you did to
the least of my brothers, that you did to me.” And if we are still
in the dark, John the Baptist can shed even more light: “He must
increase,” he tells his followers, “and I must decrease”. And
we should all be saying that.
We lost someone in our extended family
just recently. I didn't really know her too well, she lived a long
way away, and it was usually at family gatherings that we might
exchange a few words. At her funeral and the reception that
followed, what I had noticed about her was confirmed by everyone else
who had known her – she was someone who always put others first,
someone who was always seeing to it that you were fed, that you were
comfortable; she was happy only if you were happy. During her last
days, she would ask those who visited her, “How are you doing?”
And she would listen with interest. And she planned and paid for her
own funeral and the reception afterward, not because those who loved
her would not have done so, but rather, I'm sure, because she wanted
to extend hospitality to all those who came to wish her farewell; she
wanted one last joyful party. And she told someone that as her time
got closer, she was worried. Her friend assured her that she had
nothing to worry about. And she replied, “I'm not worried about
myself – I know I'm going to heaven. I just worry about my husband
and my parents and who will take care of them when I'm gone.”
Afraid yet filled with joy. Because
if we become Jesus, and we can – that's what the Holy Eucharist is
all about – and if we lose ourselves so that Jesus can live in us,
then we too will be resurrected. That's the guarantee.
