Apr 5, 2026
This Easter Sunday I would like to focus on the women who rise early in the morning to visit Jesus’ tomb, highlighting that faithfulness is often inconvenient, costly, and demanding (John 20:1-18). Their long walk in the dark to a place of death and state violence shows that resurrection begins not in comfort or triumph, but in love that refuses to turn away from grief. I imagine places like Golgotha and Joseph of Arimathea’s tomb not only as sites of death, but as thresholds where shame, violence, and despair are transformed into forgiveness, hope, and new life.
Resurrection is rarely sudden or spectacular. It unfolds slowly through confusion, longing, and persistence, much like personal healing, church renewal, or national justice. Drawing on Mary Magdalene’s experience in the resurrection story from the Gospel of John, the message stresses that resurrection is relational. It becomes real when Jesus calls Mary by name. Recognition, dignity, and restored humanity, not ideology or explanation, bring life out of death.
Resurrection is also communal and outward-moving. Mary does not keep the experience to herself; she is sent to share it, becoming the first witness to the good news. Faith, the sermon insists, cannot be hoarded. Resurrection continues whenever people stay with grief, run toward one another in confusion, speak names instead of labels, and carry hope into wounded places. Though the world remains marked by Empire, violence, and fear, resurrection has already begun. It is not a one-time miracle for Jesus alone, but an ongoing possibility for communities, nations, and all people who choose love, presence, and shared life. I challenge you this week to seek out life-giving occurrences. They far outweigh the specters of death we hear on the news. New life, healing, help, reconciliation and the bringing of peace occur every day. Resurrection was not a onetime occurrence for Jesus alone. The Spirit is alive and working in our everyday lives, for those with eyes to see.
