The Lutheran Hour
-
"Come See"
- Download MP3 No bonus material MP3
-
Text: Matthew 28:5
-
Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed! The Son of God, the Savior of the world was born, lived, died, and has risen to save us. By His sacrifice, by His resurrection we are saved. This is God’s Gospel of grace. There is no other. On this Sunday of Resurrection remembered, we pray, God grant this good news to us all. Amen.
Eric Barker was a missionary from England. For over 50 years he had lived in Portugal where he had preached the Gospel. Indeed, Eric Barker planned on raising his family and finishing his life where it had been spent in the cause of the Gospel. Eric’s plans were changed when, during the critical days of World War II, he was told that it would be wise for him to send his wife and eight children to England for safety. There were tears all around as Eric’s wife, his little ones, along with his sister and her children, got on the ship which would take them to safety.
As for Barker, from the first, he had known he would stay behind to continue the work to which he had been called. It was on a Sunday, the Lord’s Day after their leaving, that he stood before his congregation and announced, “I’ve just received word that my family has arrived safely home.” The congregation breathed a sigh of relief. The hymns were sung, the sermon was preached, and the pastor greeted his people at the door as they left for Sunday lunch.
It was only later in the day that the full meaning of their Pastor’s words, “my family has arrived safely home” was understood by the small congregation. They found out what you may already have guessed. Just before the worship service, Pastor Baker had been handed a telegram which told him a German submarine had torpedoed the ship on which his family had booked passage. There were no survivors. Not one. It was then, and only then, that Barker’s people understood their pastor’s family had truly gone home. Not to England, which would, at best have been a temporary home. No, they had gone home to their Lord. Although torn by grief, by God’s grace, Pastor Barker had managed to preach the Savior’s story of salvation to his congregation. Overwhelmed by earthly sorrow, Barker was able to rejoice that his family, every one of them, had stood before their Savior’s open and empty tomb. He was comforted because they had believed Jesus’ resurrection promise: “Because I live, you shall live also.” He was able to go on because they had trusted in the Savior who had redeemed them on the dark and bloodied timbers of His Calvary cross.
More than 25 years in the parish has brought me close to a great many people who believed, acted, and spoke as he did. They were not preachers; they didn’t know Greek, Hebrew, Latin, or German. No, they were men and women of every age: farmers, ranchers, blue-collar workers, stay-at-home mothers, and executives. They were as diverse as the human race is diverse, but they were united in one thing: they were men and women of faith.
There was the husband and wife whose marriage vows of faithfulness and love had been kept for 67 years. The only separation they ever had was when he, as a young man, left his bride to fight in France in World War I. When he returned from battle, the two were inseparable. They worked the farm side-by-side; raised their children; attended church most faithfully. And when death ended their earthly union and took the old soldier away, his wife cried; but she smiled through her tears. She knew, because of Jesus, their separation was destined to be a short one. She held fast to the thought they would be reunited in a place where conflict, illness, and aging could never touch them again.
I remembered the time I was in a delivery room to minister to a family who had known their unborn baby had a birth defect which would make life impossible for her, even for a few moments. I recalled the father and mother who were told their young athletic son’s flu-like symptoms were not the flu. He had an illness far worse and he would not live. After he was gone, they prayerfully gave his organs to others so those others might have the time denied to their son. There was the time I had to tell a mother her son had died in an accident. I can still hear her words, “I don’t have to worry about him anymore, he is with Jesus now.” I recall presiding at the funeral of a beloved young man of 28 who went to bed one night and didn’t wake up the next morning. No drugs, no alcohol, no foul play. He went to sleep and he didn’t wake up. I have stood as part of an honor guard at the casket of a high-school classmate who received a concussion playing softball. So many faces; so much sadness; so much sorrow. But at none of these places, with none of these families, could it ever be said that sadness was overwhelming, the sorrow was overpowering. Each and every one leaned upon their crucified and risen Lord Jesus.
There is not enough time to tell you all the stories. I can only share that death is the common denominator which touched each and every one of these people, those around them, those who loved them. Sometimes it came like a rapist, ripping and tearing and forcing himself upon those families; other times it arrived as a welcomed friend providing respite and release from a painful and terminal illness. Death came to all, even as it will, someday, be the common thread which runs through the final chapter of our lives. But there is one God-given, blood-bought truth which cannot be overemphasized: when death came and placed his bony fingers around the necks of these souls, his cold, clutching grasp was broken by the nail-pierced hands of the risen Savior. When death came calling, a living Jesus stood there and barred the way, saying, “You cannot have them; today, they shall be with Me in paradise.”
It hasn’t always been that way, you know. In the early morning hours of a spring day around the year 33 A.D., a number of women made their way to a grave. They didn’t know it was around 33 A.D., the year of our Lord. That morning there was no reason to date the calendar from the birth of a baby in Bethlehem. On that day the women would have marked their calendar as being ab urbe condita, that is, so many years after the founding of the city of Rome in 753 B.C. On that morning, the founding of the city of Rome was just about the most important thing which the ancient world had seen. That was all about to change.
Before the sun had come up, the ladies had set out. They were traveling to the grave of an individual whom they had loved very much. They were not the first ladies to make such a trip. In every century, wives, widows, and women have paid their respects and done what was necessary for those who had left them behind. This group of ladies was committed to finishing the funeral rites and paying their respects to a man, whom they felt, had died before His time.
Scripture is silent as to what they talked about, but we might guess. They would have gone over the events of the last week. There would have been talk about how quickly things had changed from Jesus’ triumphal parade into Jerusalem only a week before. They might have expressed disappointment that one of Jesus’ closest associates had, for the mean and meager sum of 30 pieces of silver, turned traitor. They could have spoken of how Jesus’ trials had been a travesty, a cheap charade, and caricature of justice.
No doubt they would have shared those special and individual memories they had concerning the deceased and how He had touched their lives with His teaching and love. His love – yes, that would have almost certainly caused considerable conversation. It was Jesus’ love which had spoken past His pain and forgiven those who had called for His death and nailed Him to a cross. As He died, love had taken care of His mother, Mary; love had spoken to a thief who called to Him in faith. Love. From His humble beginning to His last breath, love had been Jesus’ great motivation.
And now it was over. His tongue, which had spoken words of peace to those who had pain or problems, was silenced. His hands, which had healed the many sick who had been brought to Him, were still. His eyes, which had seen no difference between men and women, rich and poor, free and slave, were now closed in death. His mind so, filled with wisdom, had been stopped. Jesus was dead.
It would be left for other doubters in other centuries to raise their voices in question. These women had no such doubt. They had been there; they had seen the thrust of the Roman spear into the Savior’s side. These women had read no coroner’s autopsy; they had no medical laboratory to verify His ending. They didn’t need it. Common sense and past experience said when blood and water come out of a wound, it means that person’s heart has stopped beating – that it stopped beating some time before. They knew: Jesus was dead.
Now it was the job of these ladies who had taken care of Jesus’ physical needs during His years of ministry – who had been by His side as He traveled – to take care of one last thing: they had to anoint His lifeless body with spices. It was that job – the job of preparing the Savior’s corpse for its final resting – which had brought them together before day’s dawn. As they walked through the dark, they prepared their minds, their hearts, their senses, for the ordeal which awaited them at the end of their short journey. They knew today’s work would be distasteful, disagreeable, and disgusting, but they would do it. They loved Him who had first loved them.
There was only one problem, a very practical problem: what to do with the great gravestone which had been rolled in front of the tomb’s entrance. Who among them had the ability to roll aside this massive rock which barred their entrance to the grave? The ladies might not have known, even if they had been physically able to maneuver the stone to the side, they would have been stopped from completing their mission. They probably had not heard how the religious leaders of Jerusalem had pleaded with Pilate to place a guard by Jesus’ grave until His predicted day of resurrection had passed. The lady’s mission of mercy had been doomed to failure and frustration before it had ever begun.
But there were no guards on duty to bar the ladies as they approached the sad place of burial. They were not challenged by the rough voices of the soldiers; they found no swords or spears pointed at their hearts. There was only quiet and order at Jesus’ borrowed garden tomb. The guards were gone. They had run away. Earlier events had frightened the soldiers more than the fear of the punishment which awaited them for having deserted their posts. Even so, the ladies were hesitant as they approached Jesus’ grave. Things were not right; the stone which had caused them concern was not in place.
What did they think of that development? Who can tell? Perhaps Joseph had changed his mind and had moved Jesus’ body; perhaps the priests’ hatred against the living Lord was of such intensity that it dared to despoil His tomb and desecrate His corpse. Cautiously, carefully, the women approached the entrance to the sepulcher. They continued past the rolled-away stone. There was no sign of a struggle, no visible proof of foul play. Their eyes became accustomed to the darkness. The cloths in which Jesus had been hurriedly wrapped a few days before were still there. That answered one of their questions: Jesus’ body had not been stolen. Those cloths were more valuable than a dead body, and no grave robber would take time to unwrap Christ’s cadaver. This they saw, along with something quite unexpected: over there was a young man dressed in white.
The angel, who had the appearance of a young man, spoke. He began as angels often begin when they are addressing sinful souls who are about to be touched by the power of God. He said, “Don’t be afraid.” Perhaps the women nodded their heads in agreement; perhaps they just stared. The angel didn’t wait for the women to reply, but he continued, “Don’t be afraid, I know why you are here. You’re looking for Jesus who was crucified.” That much the ladies knew. The question they really wanted answered was: “Where is Jesus’ body?” The angel answered their unspoken, heartfelt concern: “Jesus is not here, for He has risen.”
Songwriters, philosophers, and psychologists have all said the three most important words in the world are: “I love you.” After all, love is a many-splendored thing. Love is that which is supposed to make the world go around. While I wouldn’t deny the importance of those three words, they are lightweights compared to the three words spoken by an angel in the dark of a Judean grave. Those three words, the most important, hell and heaven shaking, eternity changing words you will ever hear are this: “Christ is risen.”
The women are stunned; the angel continued. If they won’t listen to his words, maybe they would believe their eyes: “Look at the place where He was laid. He’s not there. See the grave clothes. He’s not in them.” It was a beginning. Of course skeptics and cynics will say, “Empty burial cloths don’t prove Jesus’ resurrection.” In saying such a thing, they would be right. On its own, a vacated shroud proves absolutely nothing. But that cloth was not the only evidence of resurrection. As the women were leaving to share the good news with Jesus’ friends, they encountered the Savior. No, they didn’t run into some crook carrying His corpse. They meet a living Jesus. Yes, I know it strains the bounds of believability and it’s not something which happens every day; but it is true. The women met Jesus. And because they met Jesus, and Peter met Jesus, and James met Jesus, and 10 disciples, and 11 disciples, and 500 disciples, and two disciples, and Paul, and many others, met a living Jesus, we can be sure: Christ is risen. Jesus lives, and because He lives the world is changed; our eternity is changed.
Because Jesus lives the calendar hanging on your wall carries the year 2008 A.D., not 2761 Ab Urbe Condita. The birth of God’s Son, the world’s Savior in Bethlehem, has bumped the founding of Rome off to the side. Yes, I know you may say, this is 2008 C.E., 2008 years in the current era. To which I reply, this is the current era because Jesus was born to save us from our sins. Because Jesus lives, it is no longer necessary for any woman or man, widow or widower, son or daughter, to journey to a grave overwhelmed by despondency and hopelessness. Because Jesus lives no longer need that trip be filled with fear, futility, and frustration. Because Jesus lives, all who are forgiven by Him shall also live.
The rolled-away stone, the empty grave clothes, and a living Savior who says: “Touch Me and see, I’m real,” changes the world, your world, in a way that no other religion can.
In His resurrection Jesus shows He is a one-of-a-kind, a unique, heaven-sent sacrifice, to do for humanity what humanity could not do for itself. Through His perfect life, His innocent death, His victorious resurrection from the dead, all who are led to acknowledge Him as Savior are set free of sin and Satan’s shackles; they are freed from death’s dark dominion of damnation. Because Christ is risen, this Resurrection Sunday is truly a new day. Our world is no longer bound by your limited and clouded vision. Because Christ is risen, I have good news for you.
Today is Resurrection Sunday. At the beginning of this message I spoke of the procession of people touched by death who passed through my remembrance. Now, I must say one thing more. Today you are alive and able to listen to this message of Christ’s triumph. It will not always be so. Someday you, and everyone you love, will be numbered in that procession. Someday your faces will be counted among those who are gone. Will that day be filled with the solace that the Savior alone can give? Will your mourners be comforted by the knowledge you believed in the crucified and risen Christ? As he once spoke to the women, today the angel speaks to you. The words are the same “Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for He has risen, as He said.” If you wish to meet this Savior who has risen to save you, please call us at The Lutheran Hour. Amen.
Music selections for this program:
“A Mighty Fortress” arranged by John Leavitt. Concordia Publishing House/SESAC
“Jesus Christ Is Risen Today” From Hymns for All Saints: Lent, Easter, Pentecost (© 2006 Concordia Publishing House)
“Jesus Lives! The Victory’s Won” From Hymns for All Saints: Lent, Easter, Pentecost (© 2006 Concordia Publishing House)
“With High Delight” arr. Henry Gerike. From Jubilee: Hymns of the Church by the Concordia Seminary Chorus (© 2000 International Lutheran Laymen’s League)
“Jesus Lives! The Victory’s Won” by John Behnke. From For All Seasons, vol. 3 by John Behnke (© 2004 John A. Behnke) Concordia Publishing House/SESAC