Thursday, April 2, 2026

Don’t Be Afraid? Easy for You to Say!: A Sermon for Resurrection Sunday


O God, may the finger of your Spirit stir through the clutter of my words to point to a new understanding. Amen.

 

In the morning after the Sabbath, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, went to the tomb. In other gospels, there is talk about the women bringing burial spices to prepare the body. But Matthew knows better. He knows that Jesus’ body had already been anointed, meaning he didn’t need further anointing for his burial. So, in Matthew’s gospel, it simply says that the women were going to see the tomb. To me, it’s like any other time someone would go visit the grave of someone they love who had died.

 

The women, the two Mary’s, went to see the tomb. When they got to the tomb there was a great earthquake, and an angel came and rolled back the stone that covered the entrance to the tomb. The guards were afraid, and it seems that the women were too because the first thing that the angel said was, “do not be afraid.” The angel then told them that Jesus was not there, but rather that he was alive. The women are told to go and tell all that they have learned. As they go on their way, they encountered Jesus and he also says to them, “do not be afraid.”

 

“Do not be afraid.” Easy for Jesus to say! Can you imagine what these women were going through?! They came to the tomb because they loved Jesus, and they came filled with grief and sadness, filled with a sense of loss both for their friend that was gone and also for all that he represented to them. Can you imagine the despair these women would have been feeling? If you have ever grieved the loss of someone you loved, then you know that grief, sadness, and despair would have been the least that these women were feeling.

 

And to discover that Jesus is not in the tomb?! So now on top of all that sadness, grief, and despair, they’re feeling fear, too! Fear for what has happened to his body. Fear of the strange being that is there in front of them. Fear to really believe, to let hope back into their hearts, that maybe Jesus really was alive.

 

So often, throughout the bible, we come across these words of assurance, “Do not be afraid.” Typically, these words are said by an angel, it’s kind of their calling card. It is how you know you are being visited by an angel. Luke’s account of Jesus’ birth and Matthew’s account of Jesus’ resurrection contain these words of reassurance which seem to wrap the entire gospel narrative in those words, “Do not be afraid.” These are among the first words uttered by Gabriel to Mary when he tells her she will bear a son named Jesus. Then, an angel uses these same words to reassure Mary Magdalene and the other Mary when they find the tomb of Jesus empty and the earth shaking.

 

Fear is a powerful emotion and can affect people in different ways. For some, fear is empowering because it gives the person the adrenaline they need to move forward, to try something new, to go on an adventure, etc. For others, fear can be paralyzing, debilitating, and can make you run away. I’m sure you’ve heard of fight, flight, or freeze. The fight response is your body's way of facing any perceived threat aggressively. Flight means your body urges you to run from danger. Freeze is your body's inability to move or act against a threat. A new one I learned is fawn, which is your body's stress response to try to please someone to avoid conflict. For me, fear plays terrible tricks on my mind. It locks me into place, makes me freeze up, and often takes away opportunities. If I am full of fear, I am more likely to run away than to go and tell.

 

As a child, when you are gripped with fear, there is often someone who can help – parent, grandparent, sibling – someone to say the words, “do not be afraid.” And as a child, it is easy to believe those words of reassurance, to take great comfort from them. Fear is bigger for adults, more complex, and those words of reassurance are harder to come by. As adults, we live with enormous responsibilities and complex realities. If we hear the words, “do not be afraid,” we are often suspicious of the sincerity behind those words. Think about a time someone told you, “Do not be afraid. There is nothing to worry about.” When someone says to us, “do not be afraid,” the words often feel like empty platitudes. Something like, “there, there.”

 

And yet, here are these angels, to Mary at the beginning of Jesus’ story and to Mary Magdalene at the tomb, coming to say just that – “do not be afraid.” These are not words of assurance that nothing will go wrong but, rather, assurance that whatever may happen to us, God has the power to strengthen us and uphold us; that no matter our fears, God will never leave us to face them alone; that nothing is stronger than God’s love and God will always get the last word.

 

The angel tells the people, “Do not be afraid.” This command concerning fear is on-going. We should never be afraid anymore! Jesus has won! Do not allow fear to keep you from sharing what you have seen here. Do not let fear keep you from hoping, and from what it means that the tomb is empty, and from what you know now to be true, even if you are having hard time understanding it.

 

The women are invited by the angel to come and see that Jesus is not here in the tomb, and then they are told go and tell. Because “come and see” must always be followed by “go and tell.” It's a part of the good news! We are to go and tell the ways that God has shocked us into bewilderment, caused us to hope in our hearts that there can be new life. We are called to tell where we see God's love and grace at play in our world and how God's peace has attended us in times of sadness and grief.

 

The Gospel that began with a man afraid to marry his disgraced betrothed and a fearful king who tries to kill potential rivals ends with overwhelming joy. Jesus’ command to the women becomes a command to all of us:

 

Stop being afraid!

God has defeated death.

Rejoice, and share the good news!

 

Amen.

Wednesday, April 1, 2026

A Lasting Presence: A Sermon for Maundy Thursday


O God, may the finger of your Spirit stir through the clutter of my words to point to a new understanding. Amen.

 

Holy Week is celebrated by both Jews and Christians alike - for similar reasons but with very different undertones. In tonight’s account in Exodus, God tells Moses and Aaron how to combat the 10th plague. Here’s a reminder of that plague, found in Exodus 11:

 

Moses said, “Thus says the LORD: About midnight I will go out through Egypt. Every firstborn in the land of Egypt shall die, from the firstborn of Pharaoh who sits on his throne to the firstborn of the female slave who is behind the handmill, and all the firstborn of the livestock. Then there will be a loud cry throughout the whole land of Egypt, such as has never been or will ever be again. But not a dog shall growl at any of the Israelites—not at people, not at animals—so that you may know that the LORD makes a distinction between Egypt and Israel.”

 

In tonight’s reading from Exodus 12, God instructs Moses and Aaron to have each family slaughter a lamb and spread its blood on their doorways. By doing so, they would be telling God which houses belong to the Israelites, and thus, by default, which belong to the Egyptians. It says in line 13, “The blood shall be a sign for you on the houses where you live: when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and no plague shall destroy you when I strike the land of Egypt.”

 

For the Jewish community, this week is one of celebration that commemorates the exodus of the Jews from slavery in Egypt. The Hebrew word pesach (pay-sock) refers to the ancient Passover sacrifice, known as the Paschal Lamb; it is also said to refer to the idea that God “passed over” the houses of the Jews during the 10th plague on the Egyptians, the slaying of the first born. The holiday is ultimately a celebration of freedom, and the story of the exodus from Egypt is a powerful metaphor that is appreciated not only by Jews, but by people of other faiths as well.

 

Passover is one of the most well-known Jewish holidays, as much for its connection to Jewish redemption and the figure of Moses as for its ties with Christian history. The Last Supper has been described as a Passover seder, a Jewish ritual feast that marks the beginning of the Jewish holiday of Passover.

 

According to the Synoptic Gospels, it is on Thursday evening that Jesus, in the upper room with his disciples, celebrates Passover and institutes the Lord's Supper. The Gospel of John, however, speaks of the Thursday supper as the day before Passover, linking Jesus' death on Friday with the Passover sacrifices. And so, while Jewish people are celebrating the joy of their freedom from slavery, this week, for Christians, is a week of sadness as we come closer to the end Jesus’ life. In the end, Christians will celebrate their freedom and forgiveness from sin, but the build-up to Easter Sunday is more sombre than joyful.

 

Tonight is an especially sombre night as Jesus lays the foundation of his departure even while his disciples are oblivious to the fact. There was no human reason why Jesus had to die. To the general public, he was more helpful than harmful. But to the Roman leadership, Jesus was a real pain.

 

Jesus was a small-town peasant in a Roman province far from the centers of political and religious power. People in such circumstances rarely threatened Rome in any serious way. A miracle-working Jewish prophet and teacher would not have posed much of a conventional threat to such power and brutality. For his own part, Jesus never took up arms, nor did he encourage his followers to do so.

But while Jesus did not exercise conventional kinds of political authority, his actions and his message included threats to the status quo. Chief among his threatening actions? Jesus could draw a crowd. The gospels report that great crowds followed him. When he entered Jerusalem during the last week of his life, he entered to local fanfare. The popularity of Jesus, combined with the gathering of perhaps hundreds of thousands of pilgrims in Jerusalem for Passover, would have made Roman authorities very nervous. It was this nervousness that flamed the desire to pull Jesus from hiding and set him on trial before Pilate.

 

Jesus knew this was all going to happen. He knew that his time on earth was coming to an end. He even knew who was going to hand him to Roman authorities. And he knew that the ending wasn’t going to be a pleasant one. So why didn’t he tell anyone? Why did he turn towards the end instead of running the other way? Cryptic as always, Jesus washes the feet of his disciples, declares that one of them will betray him, and tells them that he will only be with them a short while longer. And as usual, the whole situation goes over the disciples’ heads.

 

If you knew you were going to die, wouldn’t you tell your best friends? Wouldn’t you want you their support? Or at least give them a chance to say goodbye? Jesus didn’t do any of that, but he did impart some pretty heavy last lessons to his disciples.

 

First, he delivers to them a new commandment – to love one another. The reading says, “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” While the Romans thought Jesus was a rebel-rouser, he really was, in fact, a teacher in the art of love. In all of his miracles, parables, and lessons, the underlying fact is that all can be done and achieved through the love of one another and of the stranger.

 

Second, Jesus imparted a lesson of remembrance. Jesus may not have openly declared to his people what was about to happen, but he wanted his disciples to remember him and the lessons that he had been teaching.

And so, much in the Jewish tradition of seder, Jesus and his disciples had one final supper together.

 

The Last Supper is one of the foundational pieces of the Christian faith. To accept the Eucharist in remembrance and thanks to the life and death of Jesus is to openly declare yourself one of his disciples. It is what makes this night so special, despite its darkness. Similar to the Jewish celebration of freedom from Egyptian slavery, tonight we, as Christians, celebrate our freedom to declare our love and faith in Jesus and reveal our willingness to follow in his footsteps.

 

Feel the quiet power these words: Take this bread and eat it. It is my body. As you eat it, remember me. Take this wine and drink it. It is my blood. As you drink it, remember me.

 

Almost 20 years ago, I read out loud tonight’s Corinthians passage aloud for the first time, my lips sounding out the words of our Eucharistic prayers. I felt a presence in those words, a presence that I felt physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I heeded the words of the Messiah, and the presence I felt, and became his disciple. Those words changed my life.

 

Tonight is a powerful night. It was for the disciples 2000 years ago. It was for me all those years ago. It is for us tonight. As we witness the stripping of our worship space and go into the darkness, there remains a presence. One that will remain with us until Jesus comes to us once again.

 

Amen.