With Fear and Great Joy

Matthew 28:1-10

After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary came to look at the tomb. Look, there was a great earthquake, for an angel from the Lord came down from heaven. Coming to the stone, he rolled it away and sat on it. Now his face was like lightning and his clothes as white as snow. The guards were so terrified of him that they shook with fear and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, “Don’t be afraid. I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He isn’t here, because he’s been raised from the dead, just as he said. Come, see the place where they laid him. Now hurry, go and tell his disciples, ‘He’s been raised from the dead. He’s going on ahead of you to Galilee. You will see him there.’ I’ve given the message to you.”

With great fear and joy, they hurried away from the tomb and ran to tell his disciples. But Jesus met them and greeted them. They came and grabbed his feet and worshipped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Don’t be afraid. Go and tell my brothers that I am going into Galilee. They will see me there.”

Happy Easter! He is Risen! He is Risen, indeed!

Easter is one of my favorite seasons in the life of the Church. Each year, we gather together to celebrate new life as we reflect on the resurrection of Christ and the Good News that Christ is alive in the world today and every day.

There really could not be a better time of year for this celebration either, at least not in the Northern Hemisphere. Here, where it is Spring, we are watching as the lilies and buttercups sprout and bloom to announce the arrival of life-giving rains and warmth. We watch as all sorts of creatures welcome newborn babies. I am sure several of you have been watching pairs of birds building nests and sitting on eggs, preparing for new life to spring forth.

This week we welcomed new life on our farm as one of our goats gave birth to a precious baby. Isn’t she beautiful?

There is so much joy that comes with the birth of precious babies like this one. At St. Paul UMC in Tuscalosoa we sang about that joy that newborn babies bring in our hymn of praise on Easter morning: “How sweet to hold a newborn baby, and feel the pride and joy he gives.”

Though, I will not pretend that this birth only brought joy to the farm. The truth is, we all were incredibly nervous as this birth approached, and even now, the smallest sign that something might not be quite right with this baby’s health or that of her mother immediately makes our stomachs and hearts sink in fear.

We had a really rough start to the kidding season with our goats last year, and our hearts and minds still feel those wounds. We have felt grief, and that makes us cautious to experience joy. It also makes us remember that sometimes joyful things change everything in ways that are often uncomfortable. Even if we love the new season of joy and the sources of that joy, growth and change can be difficult and often mean our lives will never be the same.

This was certainly the case for my wife and me when our daughter was born. We were so very excited to welcome Eleanor into the world, or as we planned to call her, Ellie-Grace.

We bought our first home shortly after learning we were pregnant. It was a fixer-upper we bought as a foreclosure. We spent months preparing it for our little family, including getting the nursery ready in joyful anticipation.

But we were first-time parents, anxious about every little potential health issue during Jaclyn’s pregnancy and when thinking about the baby’s first few months of life. We went to the hospital early in the morning on the day the baby would come. We were excited and joyful, but also afraid.

I remember going through the worst-case scenarios in my head to try to prepare myself for whatever might happen. I also wondered if we would be able to provide for this child. I was a year into seminary and knew it would be almost another decade before I could make a living wage as a full-time pastor. My wife had a good job that provided what we needed financially, and the salary from my part-time pastoral appointment helped a bit, but the uncertainty of just how much our lives would change was overwhelming.

And then, there she was.

Our love, our hope, our joy, right there in front of us, reaching out for us, crying out from her healthy lungs, announcing her arrival to the world.

That night I sang to her for the first time through tears of exhaustion, fear, relief, and tremendous joy. I sang to her, “Before you sleep, say a little prayer, cause every day in every way it’s getting better and better.” I meant those words with all my heart. Better and better, every day.

Forty-eight hours later we were strapping her into her car seat to take her home to that house we spent months preparing for this moment. The joy of bringing her home was far more overwhelming than the uncertainty and fear from the days before.

She changed everything for us. Not just the name we thought we would call her, but everything. Just like there was no doubt after she announced her presence that this child was not Ellie-Grace, but our Eleanor, there was no doubt that every day, in every way, things would get better and better.

Much like we went to the hospital in anxious, curious, uncertain anticipation the morning of the day Eleanor was born, Mary Magdalene and Mary went to the tomb the morning of the resurrection of Christ with curiosity, anxiety, and expectation.

The same Koine Greek word used to describe the anxious way these women looked on at the crucifixion is used to describe why they went to the tomb that morning. There must have been a level of curious expectation that something supernatural or miraculous would happen in each of those seemingly hopeless moments.

When they arrived at the tomb, that curious expectation, that faith in the midst of grief that something joyful would come from all of this pain, was met with news that brought them overwhelming joy.

And yet, we are told their fear remained: “With great fear and joy, they hurried away from the tomb and ran to tell his disciples.”

Don’t get me wrong, who could blame them for being afraid, having heard that Jesus had risen from the dead? Joyful good news about the hope of a risen Messiah aside, finding out a man has risen from the dead is kind of creepy and would cause anyone to question everything they thought they knew about how life works.

Their fear remained, but their fear did not keep them from responding faithfully to the call to share the good news. They knew that everything they ever knew would change forever. They knew that life would never be the same. And yet, they go to share the good news.

Then, as they continue on their journey into the world to share the good news, in the midst of their joy intertwined with their fear and anxiety, Jesus comes to them. They find him, the risen Lord, along their uncomfortable, uncertain, terrifying journey. And I have to imagine it was with great joy that they invited the disciples to meet the risen Lord and led them to Galilee where they would find Him.

Today Christ is calling us to do something that will change everything. We are being called to do something that will be certain to change the world and our lives forever.

It is a joyful thing to be called to work with Christ in the world, but we would be foolish not to be at least a little afraid of how this will change our lives. If we are not at least a little anxious about what the good news of the Risen Lord being alive in the world means for our lives, perhaps we misunderstand the magnitude of what we are being called to do.

I couldn't leave the sanctuary on Easter, having sung praises and celebrated with my beloved community, knowing that we did not understand the magnitude of this Good News and what it would mean for our lives. And so, it is with fear and joy intertwined that I shared the good news that Christ is alive in the world.

You see, a Christ who is not alive in our world and does not call us to be part of the life of Christ in our world is much safer to believe in and to be faithful to than a Christ who is inviting us into the life of Christ.

A Christ who remains in the tomb is okay with us remaining in our sanctuaries and our comfortable homes.

A Christ who is dead is okay with our faith being dead and our response to his dormant life being inactive and unmoving.

A Christ who is now resting from the struggles of this world in death is okay with us resting in our privilege and suffering alike without being moved to action and self-sacrifice.

But on Easter we gather to celebrate that the tomb is empty.

We gather to celebrate that Christ is alive.

We gather to receive our call to active faith that destroys unjust systems, even when we are the privileged ones who benefit from those systems.

And so, we cannot leave these celebrations with a Good News that allows us to rest in our joy. We cannot leave this place and go into lives of comfort and privilege and simply give thanks for these as if they are our ultimate blessings. We cannot leave our celebrations and say we follow the Risen Lord if we ourselves are comfortable with resting in faith that does not move us to lives of an active, self-sacrificial pursuit of a more just and loving creation for all.

If the source of our joy does not also inspire at least some anxiety and fear, we likely have misunderstood the magnitude of the news that Christ has risen.

Make no mistake, what we are being called to is difficult. It will mean our lives will never be the same. It will mean that we must lay down the worldly sources of security we have been holding on to for dear life. It will mean we are unwilling to accept any king but Christ, even if worldly kings promise security and prosperity. It will mean we will have to go places we have never been and places that make us incredibly uncomfortable. It will mean we find ourselves with needs that no earthly power can fulfill. It will be a long and tiring journey, filled with situations that inspire fear.

And yet, the Good News is that as we find ourselves in these situations, we will find Christ there with us. It will be on our journey of intertwined fear and great joy that Christ will come to us over and over again. We will find Christ everywhere we go.

And he will comfort us and inspire joy we could never imagine as he calls out to us saying, “Do not be afraid. Go and tell my siblings the good news, and to go with you on this journey, and that I will meet you along the way.”

As we live our lives of loving service, Christ will live in us and through us, and there will be no doubt of the Good News we have received once again this Easter: Christ is alive in the world today.

As we go from our Easter celebrations with anxiety, fear, and great joy, I pray we will be reminded of the hope we have in Christ Jesus. As we see the new life springing up all around us, may we be reminded of the promise of new life and our continued journey toward a more loving and just world for all.

Go and spread the good news! Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed!

And we are invited to take part in the life of Christ, the very force of reconciling love and grace that will bring healing and new life to all of creation.

Amen