April
8, 2023
Tonight is a holy night. Before the
lilies, the feasts, the flowers, and the fanfare that the morning will bring,
we begin this first celebration of Jesus' resurrection quietly, in near
darkness. With the scratching of a match we ignited a new fire. And from that
fire the Paschal Candle was lit. We listened to the stories of God creating the
universe, setting people free, breathing life into dry bones, saving, healing,
redeeming, and all the while the Paschal Candle burned, witnessing to us that
the light of Christ was present through it all.
And, of course, all these stories build
up to the one that begins in darkness. While it is still dark, John’s gospel
tells us, the grieving Mary Magdalene makes her way to Jesus’ tomb. But upon
her arrival she discovers that the stone has been removed and the cave is
empty. Understandably, Mary interprets this dark, empty tomb as a further
tragedy - not only has she lost Jesus to a horrific death, now even his body
has been stolen and taken away from her. With time, though, she discovers that
she’s got it all wrong. That even though at first glance the empty tomb looks
bad it is not, in fact, tragedy upon tragedy. Yes, something has happened in
the darkness, but it was something wonderful, something unimaginable, something
glorious. The tomb is empty not as the result of thievery, but the great power
of God. Jesus is alive. He is risen.
While so much of our focus is on the
light of that good news, let us not so quickly forget where the story began.
Theologian Barbara Brown Taylor reflects on this in her book, Learning to Walk in the Dark, as she
writes, “As many years as I have been listening to Easter sermons, I have never
heard anyone talk about [the dark part]. Resurrection is always announced with
Easter lilies, the sound of trumpets, bright streaming light. But it did not
happen that way. If it happened in a cave, it happened in complete silence, in
absolute darkness, with a smell of damp stone and dug earth in the air…new life
starts in the dark. Whether it is a seed in the ground, a baby in the womb, or
Jesus in the tomb, it starts in the dark.”
As Christians we often talk in terms of
dark versus light and celebrate that the light overcomes the darkness. But by
pitting the two against each other we can miss the ways that God is present and
working in both. We tend to think of darkness in negative terms, as periods of
despair, hopelessness, or confusion, times when God feels far away. It is in
darkness that we hit our shin on the coffee table. It is in the dark that we
are unable to see what might jump out and get us. And it is often in the dark,
when our fears and anxieties get the best of us.
Yet there is also goodness to be found
there. Darkness provides the optimal condition for restorative sleep. In the
dark and in the quiet we can rest and replenish. In the dark and in the quiet
of the earth, bulbs wait for warmer temperatures. In the dark and in the quiet,
seeds germinate before pushing green shoots up above ground, ready for the sun.
Indeed, God works marvelous wonders in the midst of darkness. And if we ever
doubt that it is the psalmist who reminds us, “Darkness is not dark to you; the
night is as bright as the day; for darkness is as light to you. For it was you
who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.”
(139:12-13)
God creates in the darkness - in the
soil, in the womb, in the cave.
Remember that the next time you find
yourself in the dark - God creates in the darkness. And if we are willing to
take a second look in the dark and observe closely, we might just see that God
is quietly present, sowing seeds, working wonders, and inviting us into new
growth and new life.
That is the truth that we’ve been hearing
in all of our readings. In Exodus, the Isrealites are in fear and disarray as
they flee enslavement in Egypt. Pharaoh's army is in pursuit, hemming them in.
All seems lost. Yet God creates a way, a path forward into new life. In the
book of Romans, Paul proclaims that though Christ was crucified and died, his
resurrection means that death no longer has power over him. What looked like
the end of the story is only the beginning. For in Christ “we too might walk in
newness of life.” And then we have our gospel reading. It is dark when Mary
Magdalene goes to the tomb and upon finding it empty she assumes that more
tragedy has ensued. But in time she recognizes just the opposite. What looked
like bad news is actually good news - very good news. The story is not over.
Jesus is alive.
The joy of Easter is no shallow joy. It
is a joy grounded in the depth of knowing that God is with us and always
creating a path to walk in newness of life - with us in the dark and quiet,
with us in the unknown and the uncertain, and with us in the bright light of
day. And so, on this holy night that shines with the glory of the Resurrection,
let us give thanks in the dark and the quiet, amidst the light and the fanfare,
and in all the moments in between knowing that God is always present -
creating, inviting, restoring. We are witnesses to the fullness of that truth.
Alleluia. Christ is Risen. The Lord is
Risen indeed. Alleluia!
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