Promises, Promises: Promise Fulfilled

When I was in elementary school, our church Easter Egg Hunt always featured one, special golden egg. And whoever found the golden egg got a great big, solid chocolate bunny. I never got the golden egg, but I always was eager to go to the hunt, which was mostly in the cemetery beside the church. It was the one day we were encouraged to go and run around the cemetery. As much as I wanted the golden egg, at the time, egg hunting in the cemetery was uncomfortable to me. I was not entirely comfortable in the cemetery any time. I had been taught to be careful not to step on graves. So, running through the graveyard, laughing and picking up eggs, eagerly looking for the prized golden egg did not seem like something we should be doing.

Cemeteries should be quiet places for reflection. People go to cemeteries to mourn.

Early that Sunday morning, the women met to go to the grave. The Roman soldiers had agreed with the Jewish leaders that the bodies of the crucified would be taken down before sundown that Friday, the beginning of the Passover Sabbath. Joseph of Arimathea was a prominent member of the Sanhedrin, he was part of what was essentially the Supreme Court of the Jewish court system, they dealt with criminal and religious law, they held trials and levied taxes, they had authority over the calendar and the preparation of the scrolls of Scripture, and they judged accused lawbreakers. Joseph of Arimathea was a respected member of this group, and he went to Pilate and asked for Jesus’ body. When they went to break Jesus’ legs and hasten his death, they found that he was already dead. Pilate gave Joseph authority over the body. Joseph bought a new linen cloth, took down his body and wrapped it in the cloth. He had a new tomb that he had ordered built for his family. It was hewn out of the rock. Tombs had several spaces, you walked inside and there were tables for bodies to be prepared for burial. They would lay here, wrapped in cloth and spices for up to a year. When the flesh was gone, the bones would be placed in a small box and inserted into a niche in the wall. As Sabbath darkness hovered, they placed Jesus’ body there and rolled the stone against the entrance.

Now, the sun was rising the day after Sabbath and the women were on their way back to complete the burial rituals, to anoint the body. But they weren’t sure they would be able to push the stone and open the tomb. New tomb, ground not packed, track not worn down.

When they looked up, the stone was rolled away. And a young man sat beside the entrance. I can only imagine their thoughts – should they run away, stay and see what was going on, what about Jesus body? Who was he? Why was he there?

He greeted them as God’s messengers do, “Do not be afraid.” He had such good news to share, “He is not here. He has risen! Go tell his disciples! He is going ahead of you to Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.”

They fled. Trembling and bewildered. And they told no one. They were terrified.

And that is the story of Easter.

Mark ends there. Mark, the earliest of the Gospels, ends there. Two endings were added in the centuries that followed because surely that can’t be the end.
But that is how Mark meant to end what he began saying this is “the beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” This is how the beginning ends. The end of the story is still being written.

This is the good news of Easter. He is not here. He is going ahead of you, and he will meet you there, just as he said. The promise is fulfilled.

And the good news of Easter is that every time we stand at a place of darkness, and we are afraid to go in, the light goes ahead of us. Christ will meet us there.

The good news of Easter is that every time we find ourselves at the tomb, we remember that he is not here. She is not here. Christ has gone ahead and met him. Christ has gone ahead and met her.

Presbyterian pastor, Thom Shuman writes beautiful liturgy. This phrase of he penned is what made me think about my Easter egg hunting in the church cemetery so many years ago, Easter is “the day grace does cartwheels in the graveyard.”

Now, it seems so right to me that on Easter, we should hunt eggs in the cemetery. And realize that we have already received the greatest gift of all. May our hearts be filled with joy!