Scared by the light? An Easter Sermon

 Dear friends

This letter is an edited version of my Easter Sunday morning sermon. As this is ‘going public’, I need to acknowledge my debt to Jane Williams for much of the material, particularly in the first half – but the rest of the debt is owed to you – for your love of each other and your service to God. The text is Matthew’s Gospel, Chapter 28, Verses 1 to 10.

It’s natural to be afraid of the dark. But Matthew’s story of the resurrection tells us about people who were afraid of the light. Sometimes the darkness is easier to cope with. Jesus’ friends had lived, as we have just done, through the rollercoaster of Holy Week. The elation of the cheering crowds at his entry to Jerusalem, the anxiety of that Festival Week, as they knew the authorities were plotting against them. The intimacy and love of the Passover Supper and the deep passion of the Garden, when they could not stay awake. And then came the fear, the shame and the grief of Jesus’ arrest and horrific death. In those circumstances, the darkness of grief may have seemed welcome. It offered the chance to retreat into the dark and stop feeling for a while.

So two women called Mary go early in the morning to a tomb they know to be securely guarded. They go to grieve. The bright light of the Jerusalem morning may be shining around them, but there is darkness in their hearts. Now it is all over. When the worst you feared has happened, there seems to be no more reason to be afraid. But in that, they were wrong. For now there is a different thing to fear. It is not the darkness that scares them out of their wits – it is the light. The light from two figures who should not be there. One is an angel, who should not exist in this world, and whose appearance is like lightning. The other should be dead. Both break into the darkness of grief and despair with a searing white light of hope and joy. This new, this unexpected joy, this painfully bright light, this is terrifying. They run headlong from the angel, only to fall at the feet of the risen Christ.

And what are the first words spoken to them by both the angel and the newly resurrected Jesus? “Do not be afraid … go and tell”. “Go quickly” says the angel to the women “tell his friends”. “Go” says Jesus, “tell all of them to go to Galilee where they will see me”. It is only a few verses later that we hear the Great Commission to us all “Go and make disciples of all nations”.

The women at the tomb were right to be afraid. A bright light had pierced the gloom of the world. Dark death had been overcome – all the old, comfortable certainties had failed. The world had been turned upside-down. And there were consequences. No returning to the safety of domesticity for the two Mary’s, but a commission to spread the good news. And no safety for us either. If the light pierces through our lives and into our hearts today, then there is only one response for us to make. To commit ourselves to being Christ’s disciples, with all the fearful consequences that may bring.

Perhaps we should be more afraid, in order to hear the risen Jesus speaking to us. Perhaps we should feel less comfortable in our faith – less willing to be lulled into a false sense of security. We have a gospel to proclaim. Our only choice is – how are we going to do this? It might be easy to feel that we don’t have the tools to set about this awesome task. We’re too small, too insignificant in this world to take on the job of proclaiming the good news. Perhaps we think we don’t have the right gifts? We’re not good at speaking in public, we’re not always able to love our brothers and sisters, we lack patience, we lack skills – we lack time!

But proclaiming the Good News to others comes in a multitude of shapes and forms. When people stop by to look in this church, what do they appreciate? They will, I’m sure, be glad to see it is full of small signs of people’s love of it – the clean, white linen, the polished floor, the children’s artwork, the beautiful flowers, the Magazine put lovingly together. They will enjoy the neatly mown lawn at the front, and the well weeded flower beds. They will find things to read and beautiful things to look at. But most of all, they will find a place that is filled with God’s love. And that is down to all of you. Maybe you don’t DO anything particular right now – or perhaps you do, but you feel it’s unspectacular and doesn’t seem to make much of a difference … Can I just say to each one of you that might be feeling that way … “RUBBISH!” (Yes, emptying bins is also service and telling others the Good News!!)

It’s very natural to be afraid of the dark, but I think many of us fear the light far more. Being a part of God’s team can bring the spotlight on us in uncomfortable ways, as well as pleasurable ones. Sometimes we may find ourselves well out of our comfort zone when we realise that God is asking us to “Go and tell” in some new way or in some new situation. The gift of being part of God’s team is, though, that we know we can always rely on Jesus for support. Do not be afraid, He tells us, go and tell, and I will be with you always, to the end of time. Whatever your gifts – small or large, spectacular or seemingly a bit on the mundane side – they’re given to you by God and you can give thanks for them. Just don’t forget to use them, in whatever way you can, to spread the wonderful, amazing news we share at Eastertide.

Jesus Christ is risen from the dead – and this means that death has been conquered for us all. We share in his glory, we share in the promise of eternal life – we share in the light of his glorious resurrection and we can rejoice and be glad in it!      

                                    With love to you all - Gail