"Remember: An Easter Sermon"

Sermon on Luke 24:1-12

Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS 

April 4, 2021 - Easter

Susanna groggily pulled her blanket up over her head. A whole week of nightmares and fitful sleep had worn her down. She fell into bed exhausted at the end of each day, but sleep was elusive. Just when she was about to drift off, she would feel the crowds pressing in hear the shouts again, “Hosanna! Save us!” 

When sleep finally found her each evening, peace didn’t. All through the night, scenes replayed again and again, “Jesus! Son of David! Have mercy on me!” “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!” And the ugly shouts of “Crucify! Crucify him!” 

And always the crowds pressing in. 

Too many people in one place at one time. People down low grabbing at their ankles as they walked past. People up in trees, straining to catch a glimpse. People who had overstayed their welcome but hadn’t thought to bring lunch, so they needed to be fed. People who asked questions just because they were looking for a fight. 

In her dreams, he answered all their questions. In her dreams, he told them, again and again, how the end would come. And in her dreams, the end always came in the same way. The noise stopped. The crowds dispersed. The images went dark.

Silence. Stillness. Nothing. 

The end. 

In the end, she was always alone. 

Outside, the rooster crowed and Susanna started to open her eyes. As the sun started to peek up over the horizon, she put her feet on the floor and looked around the room. In the half-light of early morning she fumbled to open her bag and tossed her supplies into it. A few rags, some dried herbs. She carefully wrapped up the small jar of expensive oil in a cloth before lowering it in with the rest. 

As she stepped outside, Susanna saw other figures moving in the distance. Her friends were, at first, two-dimensional in that first light of day. But as they came closer, their familiar faces brought all her feelings to the surface and, unable to help herself, she began to quietly weep.

Joanna drew near and put an arm around her friend. “Shhh, shhhh. It’s going to be okay, Susanna. It’s going to be okay.”

Susanna looked at her sideways. It’s going to be okay? she thought. It’s going to be okay? Joanna, nothing is okay right now. Nothing.

“I know,” Joanna sighed, “But it’s going to be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.”

Susanna internally rolled her yes, but tried to force a smile in Joanna’s general direction. No sense in having a fight about this right now. There was work to do. 

The women quietly began their journey through empty streets. 

Just a few short days ago, these streets had been filled with the crowds that now plagued Susanna’s dreams. There had been two parades, really. From the East, the parade she had been a part of. Jesus and his ragtag group of followers. Peasants from the outskirts, looking out of place in the big city. A parade of protest - a parade that asks “why” and says “no more.” 

And from the West, a more conventional parade. Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, and all his horses and men, decked out in grand style. A parade of Empire - a parade that says “listen up” and “because I said so.”

And now...a third parade. A parade of women. No one gathered to watch this one. Certainly not the Roman authorities. After all, the story was basically over and done now. Not much left to see here. Jesus came, the people cried out for freedom, and once again, the powers-that-be tightened their grip. Once again, violence won the day. Once again, the people were left alone, leaderless, despairing. 

Susanna glanced over at Joanna. How can she think it’s all going to be okay in the end? She wondered. Can’t she see this IS the end? It’s over. Finished. 

Jesus had...talked a good game. He had given them the gift of hope. When he spun those stories of a better world...well, you couldn’t help but feel like it was really possible. When he said, “the Kingdom of God is like this” you could kind of squint and really see it there on the horizon. 

There was something about his presence. The way he looked into your eyes like he was seeing every single thing about you without being intrusive. It was like he was here, with us...but somehow beyond us, from another place entirely. When you were with him you felt like you were wrapped up tightly in a cocoon….safe, warm, loved. 

It felt like nothing could ever hurt you. It felt like home. It felt like everything was...okay. 

But now that was all gone. Because Jesus was gone. And as the parade of women approached the tomb where Jesus’s body lay, it really started to hit home for Susanna. This would be the last time she’d see her friend. She had cared for dead bodies like this many times before and wondered if this would feel any different from all the rest. She started to take her bag off her shoulder to get the supplies ready. 

What happened next felt like one of those dreams where everything is disjointed and nothing seems to make sense. 

One of the women cried out that the tomb had been broken into. The heavy stone had been rolled away! They stumbled over each other trying to investigate and when they discovered Jesus’s body was gone, Susanna felt rage rise inside of her. This has been taken from us, too? Why?

And then chaos. A flash of light. Two strange men clothed in white saying things that made no sense. No sense at all. “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.”

Susanna couldn’t wrap her mind around it. It didn’t make any sense. Not at all. She turned to look at her friend.

Joanna’s eyes locked with hers...and she suddenly felt that feeling all over her body. Wrapped up tightly in a cocoon….safe, warm, loved. It felt like nothing could ever hurt you. It felt like home. It felt like everything was….okay. “It’s going to be okay,” whispered Joanna. “In the end, I mean. It’s going to be okay in the end, because if it’s not okay, it’s not the end.”

The women held hands tightly, stumbling into the light outside the tomb. 

And suddenly they remembered. Their hearts remembered it all. The healings, the parables, the miracles, the laughter, the despair, the anger at injustice, the meals shared around tables, the long journey they had all been on together, the love.

They remembered it in their minds and their bodies, their guts and their hearts, their cells and their spirits. They remembered it in whispers and shouts and songs and questions and stories and silence and parades. 

They remembered. And in the remembering, they were re-membered. Pieced back together. Knit together in love. Brought back to themselves. 

They remembered. And we, too, remember. 

Christ is risen. Christ is risen, indeed. Alleluia.