Easter Surprise

Jesu Juva

Matt. 28/Col. 3                                                                    

April 9, 2023

The Resurrection of Our Lord-A                    

 Dear saints of our Savior~

          Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

          One of the most surprising things about the Easter gospel is just how surprised all of His followers were when Jesus actually rose from the dead.  The women are surprised to find an open, empty tomb with an angel sitting on the stone.  The disciples too are surprised and initially don’t believe the news.

          It’s not as if Jesus hadn’t told them.  It’s not as though they hadn’t witnessed Jesus’ power over death on multiple occasions—most recently at the nearby tomb of Lazarus.  It’s not as though Jesus hadn’t promised on multiple occasions that He would indeed rise on the third day.  Even the enemies of Jesus knew this.  Even the Chief Priests and Pharisees remembered and recalled how Jesus had predicted, “After three days I will rise” (Matt. 27:63).  That’s the whole reason Jesus’ tomb was guarded like Fort Knox. 

          But nobody among Jesus’ followers even bothers to mention the fact—or remember the fact—or recall the fact—or even entertain the notion that Jesus had specifically promised that on the third day He would rise.  Even the women (who were among our Lord’s most faithful and devout followers) the women were going to the tomb to finish a hasty burial—not to look for the risen Christ.  When the angel told them, “He is not here, for He has risen as He said,” they were shocked beyond measure—dumbfounded, flabbergasted.  And, when they actually encountered the Risen Lord in the flesh, bulging eyes and dropping jaws are what Jesus would have seen at first—followed by bending knees and joyful tears.  It was the most wonderful surprise in the history of the world—but it shouldn’t have been a surprise.

          “What was their problem?” you might be tempted to ask.  Because it’s awfully easy for us to sit here this morning, belching after a bountiful Easter breakfast, picking jellybeans out of our teeth, to conclude that we wouldn’t have been surprised.  No, if we had been there, we would have been taking careful notes when Jesus predicted His resurrection.  We would have set a Google reminder for three days—for very early on the first day of the week—marked our calendars for the first Sunday after the first full moon, after the spring equinox—so that we could have been right there, ready and waiting, when our Lord took His first steps out of the tomb—ready to exclaim, “He is risen indeed, alleluia!”

          But if our faith is so strong—if we are so immune to surprises because we hang on every word that proceeds from the mouth of the Lord—then why are we so surprised by other things—on every other day of the year? 

          Why are we so surprised by our sufferings?  Especially when God tells us that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope? (Rom. 5:3-5)  Why aren’t we rejoicing in our sufferings (instead of being surprised by them)?  Why are we so surprised by distress and tribulation?  After all, Jesus clearly stated, “In this world you will have tribulation; but take heart, for I have overcome the world” (Jn. 16:33).  Why are we so shocked and surprised by our own weakness and frailty?  Especially when Jesus has promised, “My power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9).  Why are we so surprised and dumbfounded by death?  Especially when Jesus has stated unequivocally, for the record:  “I am the resurrection and the life” (Jn. 11).

          Death has a way of doing that—of deafening our ears to the powerful promises of Jesus.  And the death of Jesus Himself had been so traumatic—so gruesome—so horrific—that it had almost obliterated our Lord’s promise:  “After three days I will rise.”

          And so, as the women scurried to the cemetery that morning, they were no different than us.  We’ve all been there.  We all know how devastating it is to walk among tombstones with tears in our eyes.  We have all acutely felt the pain of parting with those we love.  That pain is a reminder that death is the enemy—the last enemy to be destroyed.  The wages of sin is death.  Those words promise a terrible payday which none of us can avoid for long.

          But surprise, surprise, surprise:  Christ is risen.  If Christ isn’t raised, then you and I and the whole world are still stuck in our sins, condemned to eternal death.  Our future is just a grave from which there is no return, no resurrection, no hope.  If Christ isn’t raised from the dead then our faith is empty—without content.  We believe in the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting, in that order.  We confess it as our creed.  But if Christ isn’t raised, then there is no resurrection of the body, and no life everlasting.  You’d be better off to go on an Easter egg hunt this morning.

          But Jesus Christ is risen from the dead.  That’s the bright and glorious news first delivered by an angel:  “Do not be afraid, for I know you seek Jesus who was crucified.  He is not here, for He has risen, as He said.  Come, see the place where He lay.”  The tomb was only temporary.  The grave could not contain Him.  Jesus is the resurrection and the life.

          But the risen Lord is, at the same time, the crucified Lord.  He was crucified for our sins and raised for our justification before God.  His cross is the atonement for our sins.  Every sin of every sinner is answered for on the cross.  We stand justified before God because Jesus stands risen from the dead—those two facts go together.  At the cross, your debt was paid; and at the resurrection, the dividends are dished out in full.

          Now here’s a genuine Easter surprise for you:  You have been raised with Christ.  Yes, you.  Baptized into His death and life, you have been raised with Christ.  This is what we heard plain as day from Colossians chapter three this morning.  You have died; and . . . you have been raised with Christ.  His resurrection is yours, now, already, through faith in Him.  Though you still live in the flesh which is destined to die; yet in Christ you live.  All that is Christ’s is yours.  His death, His life, His glory—all these are yours in Him.

          So this new reality—this Easter reality—calls for a new way of thinking.  Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.  Seek the things that are above.  Set your sights on Easter.  Look up.  Lift up your hearts.  This doesn’t mean that we walk around with our heads in the clouds, humming Gregorian chants, and disengaging from life in this world.  Right here on earth we’ve got vocations and responsibilities and jobs and families and communities and a congregation.  Right here and now there’s work to do—but we do that work as those redeemed by Christ the crucified.  We do that work as Easter people.  We live as those who are in the world, but not of the world. 

          This world doesn’t define you; Christ defines you.  The world doesn’t tell us who we are; Christ does.  The world doesn’t give us life; Christ does.  His resurrection is the “north star” by which we navigate our way through this world.  And as we walk this way by faith, we are unsurprised by suffering—unsurprised by trouble—unsurprised by tribulation, and by our own weakness and death.  For we know the truth of Easter:  Your life is hidden with Christ in God.  When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory.

          With your mind set on things above, it means that you are not pulled into a vortex of despair and doubt by what you see and hear in this world every day—wars and rumors of wars, the demise of our culture, the despair of our politics, the doom of a collapsing economy, rampant violence, and impending, widespread persecution.  Do not be surprised.  Do not be afraid.  Christ is risen.  The resurrection of Jesus not only means that you don’t have to be afraid to die—you don’t have to be afraid to live.  Your life is hidden with Christ.

          He is not here—that is, not in the tomb.  But HE IS HERE, present among us—in His Word, His Baptism, His body and blood.  Here you will find Him—crucified, risen, reigning, ruling all things for you, for your life, your forgiveness, your salvation.  Every Sunday is Easter.  Every Lord’s Day is a resurrection celebration.

          Easter means that we know how the story ends.  No surprises.  No fear.  Only the joy of Jesus and the confidence that Christ is risen indeed.

Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  He is risen indeed.  Alleluia.

          In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.