Luke 24:1-12
Sermon by Rev. Caela Simmons Wood
April 20, 2025 - Easter
A generation goes, and a generation comes, but the earth remains forever. The sun rises and the sun goes down, and hurries to the place where it rises. The wind blows to the south, and goes around to the north; round and round goes the wind….All things are wearisome; more than one can express; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, or the ear filled with hearing.
What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; there is nothing new under the sun. Is there a thing of which it is said, “See, this is new”? It has already been, in the ages before us.
I confess that starting an Easter sermon by reading from the Book of Ecclesiastes isn’t exactly traditional. Ecclesiastes is not the most uplifting book in the Bible. But it is filled with practical wisdom. Little tidbits that just seem to make sense. Like this zinger: “There is nothing new under the sun. It has already been, in the ages before us.”
I can’t help but wonder if something like that question went through the women’s minds on that first Easter morning when they went to the tomb.
We’re told they made their solemn procession at deep dawn. Can you see it? When it’s still so dark out that you can barely see to steady your steps, but there is a sense that the light is finally changing - just the tiniest bit. These were the women who had been with Jesus for a very long time - Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary mother of James, and the others who had come with him from Galilee.
After Jesus was executed, a good and righteous man named Joseph of Arimathea went to the Roman governor, Pilate, and asked for Jesus’s body. Joseph took the body down off the cross, wrapped it in a linen cloth, and laid it in a new tomb. By this time, the sun was setting and the Sabbath was beginning. The women from Galilee did what they had always done: they stopped working to honor the Sabbath. They set aside their spices and ointments and waited for dawn.
It’s likely this wasn’t the first time the women had done the work of preparing a body for burial. People didn’t live as long back then. Disease, malnutrition, the violence of Empire took so many at an early age. Death was a daily fact of living - and it was women’s work to tend to the physical realities death leaves in its wake.
And so they may have looked at the sun, just peeking up over the horizon now and thought something like,
“There’s nothing new under the sun.
Rome continues to tighten its grip on us. We are never free - not really. And this man that we loved, this Jesus who came speaking of justice and liberation - well, they killed him, just like they always do to the prophets.
And people die. That’s not new either. We love fiercely and then their human bodies give out. Or they’re taken from us. Disappeared into a realm that we can’t get to. Gone too soon. Leaving us behind.
There’s nothing new under the sun. And we - we’re still here. We do what we’re supposed to do. We pause and rest on the Sabbath. We say our prayers. We listen for the rooster’s crow. We put our feet on the floor. We retrieve our tools. And then we go, together, to clean up after death.”
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Empire. Authoritarinism. Violence. Death. These were not new. These are not new.
The poets write about these realities, still. All around the world. 35 years ago the Irish poet Seamus Heany wrote about the story of a Greek mythological war from 3500 years ago, reminding us:
Human beings suffer,
They torture one another,
They get hurt and get hard.
These are constants.
Human beings suffer,
They torture one another,
They get hurt and get hard.
And, boy, do those constants feel heavy and present in our own time. Day after day we watch new horrors unfold in the news. Human beings, beloved children of God, snatched off the street and pushed into unmarked vans. Human beings sent off on airplanes without any hope of due process, packed into a jail or concentration camp on the other side of the world. Targeted solely because their skin isn’t the “right color” or they are caught speaking the “wrong language.” “Leaders” washing their hands of any responsibility for the atrocities being committed. A convicted felon refusing to be held to the rule of law, while simultaneously demonizing others as “thugs.”
Empire. Authoritarinism. Violence. Death. There is nothing new under the sun.
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As the women arrive at the tomb, they see something unexpected. The large stone covering the entrance had been rolled away. They went inside and discovered the body was gone! And so they assumed it had been stolen - maybe by garden-variety grave-robbers. Or maybe just one more jab from Rome, “Can they not even allow us the dignity of resting in peace after they’ve murdered us?”
While the women considered the possibilities, two men in gleaming clothes appeared before them. The women dropped their spices and fell to the dirt, terrified. But the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.”
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“Remember,” the strange men said. “Remember what he already told you, back in Galilee. Remember?”
This remembrance is what unlocks the power of Resurrection for the women at the tomb.
Remembering what they already knew - that death did not have the final say, that new life would find a way even in the midst of great evil - the women ran to tell the others.
They thought they were in the middle of a story about the ubiquitous presence of Empire, Authoritarinism, Violence, Death - but they had forgotten what they had already been told. That death was not the end of the story but one step on the journey. The story doesn’t end with Empire, Authoritarinism, Violence, Death - it continues on with Beloved Community, Liberation, Hope, Resurrection.
The thing is: this wasn’t NEW information. They had already learned it. They just needed a reminder. “Remember what he told you…” They already had what they needed to meet the moment. And in showing up to bear witness to the pain, they were the first to witness new life.
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This story is a beautiful illustration of Sankofa. For those who aren’t familiar, the Sankofa is a mythical bird from the Akan culture in Ghana. The word Sankofa literally means “go back and get it.” I’ve heard Ghanians say that parents will use it to playfully scold children who leave their socks all over the living room, “Sankofa! Go back and get it!”
But the truth found in this symbol goes much deeper. Symbolic depictions in the Adinkra writing system often look like a bird with a long neck, kind of like a swan. Her body and feet are facing forward but her head is swiveled backwards on that long neck. Her head is pointed backwards and she carries a small egg in her mouth.
This is what the gleaming men were telling the women on that first Easter morning, “Sankofa. Go back and retrieve it. Remember what he told you while you were still in Galilee. Empire, Authoritarinism, Violence, Death - yes, but that is not the end. The story continues: Beloved Community, Liberation, Hope, Resurrection.”
This is one of the great gifts of Easter:
Sankofa. Go back and retrieve the wisdom.
Remember. Carry it carefully in your heart.
But don’t hold onto it too tightly. This egg of wisdom may seem fragile, but under the right conditions, an egg is incredibly strong. This truth won’t break or falter. It’s meant to be shared. Go back and retrieve it. But then carry it forward.
Remember. Death is not the end. The story continues.
May we remember we already have what we need.
May we share that good news with others.
May it be so.
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