Living through tough times
Great Vigil of Easter | Matthew 28:1-10
Now that is an entrance.
“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.”
The earth shook. A great earthquake. Not like that one we hardly noticed in the midwest thirty years ago.
I’ve never experienced a great earthquake myself, but I was watching that World Series decades ago when Oakland was seizing during the middle of a game. It was freaky to watch. So I can only assume how scary this would be.
And then to see an angel show up, roll a massive stone like a marble, and then sit down on it like it’s nothing…
It says that “[h]is appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow.” Now, aside from that literal confusion of how an appearance can be like lightning, let’s instead take the meaning more literally.
Which would be useful, but I’m now thinking that he’s crackling with electricity like Thor in Marvel movies when he brings all of this lighting.
But these three images, for a desert people, demonstrate a kind of fearful extremity. Earthquakes, lightning, snow.
The gods must be angry.
But, much like the experience of following a Messiah who sacrifices his life, these signs should scare other people. Not people who follow Christ and know the love of God. The gods aren’t angry. God is pleased with his beloved.
“For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men.”
Clearly they didn’t get the memo.
This, of course, is one of the most significant undercurrents in the gospel. And it is one central to Matthew.
Jesus continues to command us: do not be afraid.
Which was simple enough when Jesus was healing people. That’s the kind of miracle they like to see. But they freaked out when he controlled the weather. And still, through it all, do not be afraid.
He reminds them all the time. Because it is safe to assume that fear will always try to be present.
I personally struggle with a lot of anxiety. And what happens for me is that my body anticipates life-threatening conditions that are coming my way. And so it activates my fight or flight response. So I experience the fear in my body—even if it’s finding a parking place or buying the right kind of lettuce. You know, the serious stuff.
The thing about anxiety is that it stems from a fear response, but it doesn’t feel like what we think fear feels like. I mean, if I need to be somewhere in two minutes and I’m a mile away, I don’t actually think I’m going to die. But my body tells me I may as well.
So when a being shakes the earth, looks like a lightning snowstorm in the desert, doesn’t fear seem like a pretty natural response?
Of course it is!
Objectively, that is terrifying.
But when the angel tells these women to not be afraid, we know he isn’t being a jerk. Nor does he expect that they wouldn’t be. He assumes they’re afraid.
BUT, they also didn’t seem to die of fright like the dudes did.
And I think this moment is perfect. Put the image in your mind. Angel doing crazy junk. Dudes over here dying of fright—frozen with fear—catatonic. And then over here are Mary Magdalene and another Mary. Probably a bit freaked, but not catatonic. Like they’ve seen some stuff.
This image is pretty telling by itself, isn’t it?
But if we added in the rest of the story. How Jesus does incredible things and tells them this is going to happen and drags them into the lion’s den. And they live.
The consistent message of eschewing fear—sending it packing like a rude houseguest—becomes the way they survive the darkness.
The last teaching Jesus offered them was about how they would know they’re on the right side of the judgment seat. Not because anyone would tell them they’re doing a great job and should really just keep it up. It is in serving people in need.
There are no gold stars. There’s showing up. That’s it.
This is how we know we’re good. When we do good.
The Return
This service: the Great Vigil of Easter is an example of this very idea.
We gather in the darkness to tell stories in hope that the light will return. Because he said that he would.
There’s no waiting for a signal. God doesn’t shout “OK, all! Let’s get our Easter on!”
We gather in the dark to do the thing once again. We survived the darkness. Because of Jesus.
And we tell his story again. Because that is how we know we’re on the right path.
This is also why it is so perfect that an angel and then Jesus appear to Mary Magdalene. She isn’t afraid. Peter, that dude’s a dog in a thunderstorm. No way he can handle this. He’d be with the other dudes, frozen with fear.
Jesus needs Mary to preach the first Easter sermon. Because she can handle it.
For Everyone
And the reality is that Jesus believes they all can handle it. Eventually. Some of them just need some more time. Peter’s a bit…dull, of course. Luke’s a physician, so I bet he’d be a bit more prepared. But Mary is the actual rock. The one who didn’t run away. Who watched. Witnessed. And returned.
The rest will get there eventually.
This dynamic of showing up and doing because it’s the thing is at the heart of the gospel and Easter itself.
And it is why we are so frequently reminded to ditch the fear. That isn’t needed here. Not because it demonstrates a true lack of faith. But because it blinds us from trust. And prevents us from hearing the truth.
It prevents us from doing.
Like my anxiety telling me I’ll die now that I’ve missed my exit on the freeway. Pfft. Game over. Lies! Utter fabrication. Balderdash. Fear is a filthy liar.
AND it means we also aren’t listening to Jesus. Who says we are God’s love. And we are blessed to love each other. So…not dead. And also…not useless. Actually important.
This is (part of) the Easter message. Yes, God has conquered death and Jesus is risen is a pretty solid message by itself.
But so is remembering who could tell us that. Who told the disciples that. How Mary knew about the resurrection.
By showing up when Jesus said he’d show up.
And given the situation, that too is a miracle.