The Promise of Easter
Luke 24:1-11; John 20:3-10

In the early light of dawn, three women made their way to Jesus’ tomb. Each was alone with her thoughts, memories, and grief. They walked together on a path that led them outside Jerusalem’s wall. They carried jars of oils, fragrant spices, and fresh linens. To properly prepare their Lord’s body for burial was for them an act of love, a way to honor and mourn Jesus.
This Easter morning, we’ll follow Mary Magdalene, so we can “witness” Christ’s resurrection through her first-hand account. Mary grew up in Magdala, a fishing community on the Sea of Galilee. While her childhood may have been fairly normal, her adult years were not. Mary showed troubling behaviors; she’d lash out in anger and have no control over her words or actions. Nothing helped her - not rabbis who prayed for her, nor any physician.
Then Jesus saw Mary one day, and He felt great compassion for her. He laid hands on her, healing her of the dark torment that had taken over her life. She was set free, everyone saw the radical change and shared in her newfound joy. Mary could now look at the horizon of her life and see a future with hope. Her choice was to follow Jesus; it was the only thing she wanted.
She traveled with the disciples and crowds, witnessing Jesus heal others, restoring their sight, hearing, diseases, and disabilities. The lame walked and the silent ones talked. Children were healed - those in their middle years, even to old age, every man, woman and child was made whole. Can you imagine Mary’s joy each time she saw other people’s lives changed by Jesus’ powerful healing touch? She knew what it felt like to have pain and trauma lifted and feel health and calmness in her body and soul. Every healing was a beautiful miracle, and it was also a sign, a small foretaste of the glorious kingdom of God awaiting us in heaven.
Mary Magdalene also got to sit and listen to the Lord teach during his three years of ministry. What amazing stories he told… they were down to earth and relatable, but there was always a surprising “aha” lesson or challenge. Jesus had two core messages. One was an invitation for all people to come and learn about God and say “yes” to His redeeming love for them. Jesus’ second message was for his followers to go out into their communities and serve all who are in need.
The hungry must be fed, the poor given clothing. Those without a home must be given shelter. Anyone without a living family member - orphans, widows, others on the fringes - must be found and cared for by the family of God. No one was to be neglected, not those in prisons nor anyone stricken by illness, whether brief or long-term. They were to “watch over one another in love”. Sacrificial love would be the distinctive mark of a disciple of Jesus Christ. Today that same generous, unconditional love for others is still the sign of a true follower of Jesus Christ.
Those beautiful days Mary spent with Jesus were treasured memories. Can you imagine what it would’ve been like if you got to journey with Jesus? You would’ve shared meals with him, met his mother Mary, known the sound of his laughter and so much more. But now, on the Sunday morning after Jesus’ arrest, his unjust trial, cruel mocking, and agonizing death, grief overwhelmed Mary. The terrible events of the last week seemed like a bad dream, a nightmare she struggled to understand. Jesus, sent by God, who had cast the darkness out of her, restoring her life, was now dead. She’d remained near the cross for 6 hours, close enough to hear his labored breathing, to see the blood on his pierced hands and feet. She heard the last words Jesus spoke through parched lips and she experienced the utter darkness that descended in the middle of the day for three hours. There was a strange chill in the air; everyone was still and silent. Mary heard Jesus cry out, “It is finished,” and breathe his last. Suddenly there was a violent earthquake, marking the moment Christ died.
Mary was also there later when Pilate gave Joseph of Arimathea permission to bury Jesus. He lowered his body to the ground, removed the nails that held him to the cross, and carefully carried him to his own, newly carved tomb. He hastily wrapped him with linen cloths, needing to hurry because it was almost the start of the Sabbath. The large stone was rolled into place, sealing the cold corpse of Jesus in its dark chamber.
Nothing could be done. But on the third day Mary Magdalene and some other women were determined to properly wrap and tend to Jesus’ body. They knew that the heavy stone blocking his tomb would need to be rolled away, but they had nowhere near enough strength to roll away the 250-pound stone. They also knew that Roman guards were sent to guard the tomb. As they got closer, the women saw that the stone was rolled away. Rushing forward they saw no soldiers. These weren’t good signs for them; they feared the worst. Perhaps someone’s hatred had driven them to vandalize Jesus’ tomb or take away his body.
Mary ran toward the dark opening, likely dropping the burial spices and oils on the dusty road. She and the others stooped down to go inside; what they witnessed greatly shocked them. Two angels of the Lord, dressed in dazzling white robes, stood gazing at them. One spoke, asking why they looked for the living among the dead. They were the first people in the world told, “He is risen, he’s no longer here”.
How long did the women stand there in shock, staring? Once the amazing news sank in, those ladies rejoiced. Can you imagine hearing them? Their voices so happy, their laugher exuberant, probably hugging as well. They saw where Jesus’ body had lain. The white burial clothes were still wrapped like a cocoon, but flat. The cloth for his head was neatly folded off to the side. They looked all around the tomb, and it was unmistakably empty. It was a sight they would never forget.
The women, filled with excitement, went as quickly as they could to tell the other disciples what they’d witnessed. I wonder if anyone saw them that morning, with their robes flapping behind them, their sandaled feet carrying them to an upper room where the disciples and others were in hiding. Bursting in the women cried out, “Christ is risen! He’s alive! The tomb is empty.”
Peter and John ran there to see for themselves - they found it just as the women had said. This Easter morning we’ve heard that Good News ourselves: Christ who died is risen. That means that the principalities and powers of darkness, sin, death, and hell itself have been defeated. That’s why we sing and say “Alleluia” on this day of days. It is not only Christ’s triumph, his great victory- it’s ours as well.
This Easter morning, we’ll follow Mary Magdalene, so we can “witness” Christ’s resurrection through her first-hand account. Mary grew up in Magdala, a fishing community on the Sea of Galilee. While her childhood may have been fairly normal, her adult years were not. Mary showed troubling behaviors; she’d lash out in anger and have no control over her words or actions. Nothing helped her - not rabbis who prayed for her, nor any physician.
Then Jesus saw Mary one day, and He felt great compassion for her. He laid hands on her, healing her of the dark torment that had taken over her life. She was set free, everyone saw the radical change and shared in her newfound joy. Mary could now look at the horizon of her life and see a future with hope. Her choice was to follow Jesus; it was the only thing she wanted.
She traveled with the disciples and crowds, witnessing Jesus heal others, restoring their sight, hearing, diseases, and disabilities. The lame walked and the silent ones talked. Children were healed - those in their middle years, even to old age, every man, woman and child was made whole. Can you imagine Mary’s joy each time she saw other people’s lives changed by Jesus’ powerful healing touch? She knew what it felt like to have pain and trauma lifted and feel health and calmness in her body and soul. Every healing was a beautiful miracle, and it was also a sign, a small foretaste of the glorious kingdom of God awaiting us in heaven.
Mary Magdalene also got to sit and listen to the Lord teach during his three years of ministry. What amazing stories he told… they were down to earth and relatable, but there was always a surprising “aha” lesson or challenge. Jesus had two core messages. One was an invitation for all people to come and learn about God and say “yes” to His redeeming love for them. Jesus’ second message was for his followers to go out into their communities and serve all who are in need.
The hungry must be fed, the poor given clothing. Those without a home must be given shelter. Anyone without a living family member - orphans, widows, others on the fringes - must be found and cared for by the family of God. No one was to be neglected, not those in prisons nor anyone stricken by illness, whether brief or long-term. They were to “watch over one another in love”. Sacrificial love would be the distinctive mark of a disciple of Jesus Christ. Today that same generous, unconditional love for others is still the sign of a true follower of Jesus Christ.
Those beautiful days Mary spent with Jesus were treasured memories. Can you imagine what it would’ve been like if you got to journey with Jesus? You would’ve shared meals with him, met his mother Mary, known the sound of his laughter and so much more. But now, on the Sunday morning after Jesus’ arrest, his unjust trial, cruel mocking, and agonizing death, grief overwhelmed Mary. The terrible events of the last week seemed like a bad dream, a nightmare she struggled to understand. Jesus, sent by God, who had cast the darkness out of her, restoring her life, was now dead. She’d remained near the cross for 6 hours, close enough to hear his labored breathing, to see the blood on his pierced hands and feet. She heard the last words Jesus spoke through parched lips and she experienced the utter darkness that descended in the middle of the day for three hours. There was a strange chill in the air; everyone was still and silent. Mary heard Jesus cry out, “It is finished,” and breathe his last. Suddenly there was a violent earthquake, marking the moment Christ died.
Mary was also there later when Pilate gave Joseph of Arimathea permission to bury Jesus. He lowered his body to the ground, removed the nails that held him to the cross, and carefully carried him to his own, newly carved tomb. He hastily wrapped him with linen cloths, needing to hurry because it was almost the start of the Sabbath. The large stone was rolled into place, sealing the cold corpse of Jesus in its dark chamber.
Nothing could be done. But on the third day Mary Magdalene and some other women were determined to properly wrap and tend to Jesus’ body. They knew that the heavy stone blocking his tomb would need to be rolled away, but they had nowhere near enough strength to roll away the 250-pound stone. They also knew that Roman guards were sent to guard the tomb. As they got closer, the women saw that the stone was rolled away. Rushing forward they saw no soldiers. These weren’t good signs for them; they feared the worst. Perhaps someone’s hatred had driven them to vandalize Jesus’ tomb or take away his body.
Mary ran toward the dark opening, likely dropping the burial spices and oils on the dusty road. She and the others stooped down to go inside; what they witnessed greatly shocked them. Two angels of the Lord, dressed in dazzling white robes, stood gazing at them. One spoke, asking why they looked for the living among the dead. They were the first people in the world told, “He is risen, he’s no longer here”.
How long did the women stand there in shock, staring? Once the amazing news sank in, those ladies rejoiced. Can you imagine hearing them? Their voices so happy, their laugher exuberant, probably hugging as well. They saw where Jesus’ body had lain. The white burial clothes were still wrapped like a cocoon, but flat. The cloth for his head was neatly folded off to the side. They looked all around the tomb, and it was unmistakably empty. It was a sight they would never forget.
The women, filled with excitement, went as quickly as they could to tell the other disciples what they’d witnessed. I wonder if anyone saw them that morning, with their robes flapping behind them, their sandaled feet carrying them to an upper room where the disciples and others were in hiding. Bursting in the women cried out, “Christ is risen! He’s alive! The tomb is empty.”
Peter and John ran there to see for themselves - they found it just as the women had said. This Easter morning we’ve heard that Good News ourselves: Christ who died is risen. That means that the principalities and powers of darkness, sin, death, and hell itself have been defeated. That’s why we sing and say “Alleluia” on this day of days. It is not only Christ’s triumph, his great victory- it’s ours as well.