Sermon for Easter Sunday

Throughout the gospel of Mark, while Jesus was teaching and preaching, while he was healing and casting out demons, he would say something that, well, to put it bluntly, seemed rather confusing. He kept saying, “Don’t tell anyone about me.”

In the first chapter of Mark, after Jesus has just cured a bunch of people of their sicknesses and cast out their demons, the writer tells us that, “he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.” But that makes some sense doesn’t it? I mean, the demons know that Jesus is the Son of God and they keep calling him such things, but we can assume that Jesus wanted a little better of a character reference in order for people to believe in him. But, this is just the beginning.

Six verses later in Mark, Jesus heals a leper who had come and begged him for help. “Immediately the leprosy left him and he was made clean.” So what does Jesus do? Well, he sends this healed man away at once and sternly warns him saying, “See that you say nothing to anyone.” Why? Several chapters later, Jesus heals a little girl, the daughter of a man named Jairus, the leader of a synagogue. She was dead, but Jesus took her by the hand and woke her up to the amazement of her family and friends. Then Jesus strictly ordered them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.

In chapter seven, Jesus healed a deaf man, then Jesus ordered him and those around him to tell no one. In chapter eight, Jesus heals a blind man and tells him not to even go into the village to tell anyone. Even Jesus’ own disciples are kept from proclaiming the full message of Jesus’ glory. After Jesus’ transfiguration on the mountaintop with Peter, James and John, Jesus orders them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead. Scripture tells us that they kept that matter to themselves, questioning what this rising from the dead could mean.

As you can see, for some confusing reason, after Jesus had performed a healing or completed an exorcism, he told those he had helped not to tell anyone. Some books call this the “Messianic secret.” But what happens after Jesus’ warnings is even more interesting I think than Jesus’ insistence of secrecy.

The leper was told to say nothing to anyone, but the story says that, in response to Jesus’ request, “The leper went out and began to talk about it freely, and to spread the word, so that Jesus could no longer go into a town openly, but stayed out in the country; and people came to him from every quarter.” We are not told what happened after the little girl was healed, but after Jesus orders the crowds around the deaf man to tell no one, scripture tells us, “the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it!”

But there is a point in the story when, suddenly, everything gets turned upside down. Everything changes on Easter morning when the women come to the tomb expecting to find Jesus dead and buried. When they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. Alarmed is probably a nice way of saying it. I’d probably scream a little if I went into a tomb and saw someone sitting inside it-alive! But then the man said this, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Naareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you. So the women went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”

So, let me summarize this all for you. When Jesus was alive, he told people not to talk about him and, they did. After Jesus was raised from the dead, people were told to tell about him, and we are told that they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid. Rather ironic, don’t you think? Or maybe there is something more here than irony.

When something or someone touches you life in a spectacular way, even if you aren’t supposed to talk about it, how can you not? I remember when my wife, Kristy, and I first were pregnant with our first child, Sophia. We knew that most people waited a few months to say anything. We knew that we should probably just keep it to ourselves. But as soon as we had verified that she was pregnant we called everybody we knew! When God manifests his power in your life, you just can’t help yourself. How can you not talk about it.

On the other hand, when you handed scary or frightening news, even if you know that you should tell someone, it’s very difficult to want to say anything at all. When somebody you love has died, when you are told that you have cancer, when you’ve made a mistake that you just can’t take back, you know that you’ve got to say something, but you can’t get the words out. You know that you MUST tell someone, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it.

When we focus only on the words that Jesus is saying to those he has healed, or on the command given to the women at the tomb, we are missing the very real situation that these people are in. No matter how much Jesus tells people not to say anything, no matter how much trouble people might get in for saying something, when you’ve been healed you just can’t help showing off how much better you are. In the same way, who can blame the women at the tomb for staying tight-lipped, at least for awhile, after the shock of seeing an empty tomb. The resurrection might have been good news for their eternal salvation but, for a little while at least, it might have just seemed like a nightmare.

How do you hear the news of Jesus and his resurrection? When you hear that Jesus loves you, or that he died for you, what is your first reaction? I can’t control what your reaction might be, nor would I want to. The Holy Spirit will move as it will and either create faith in your heart or not when you hear Jesus’ resurrection story. And if it doesn’t create faith, then it will, quite reasonably, create a lot of fear and trembling for you. Which is why, even Easter Sunday, can sometimes seem like a really big guilt trip for Christians all over the world. We know that the story is good news, we have been told that we are supposed to be happy, the lilies are white and the songs are upbeat, but why do you not feel so full of faith? Why aren’t you feeling inspired?

For many of you, Easter might feel like a duty, something that you must do; therefore, you will probably not want to do it and, even if you are forced, you won’t like it. I probably won’t see you very often after today and, even though you’ll know that you are missed, even though you know that you SHOULD be at church, you probably won’t come because you might think that you were supposed to feel inspired today and you didn’t so why bother.

Let me remind all of you that the heroes of the faith on this Easter Sunday were three scared women running away from the tomb with fear and trembling. Those three women are our heroes today. The ones who didn’t listen to the man, who we assume was an angel. We aren’t talking about the people who had joy abounding from their hearts and mouths previously in the gospel of Mark. We are talking three women who didn’t really like what they heard, about Jesus not being dead, even though they were supposed to think that was good news. Easter might be a joyous day for you and that is wonderful, Hallelujah! But if Easter is full of fear and confusion for you, I want you to understand that you belong here too—you are part of Jesus’ story.

One of the single most frustrating things as a pastor, and as a Christian is that people think that to go to church you must be a saint. I can’t count the number of comments I hear about church being full of good people and, sorry to say it, but the church is not full good people, it’s full of forgiven people. People that have doubts about their faith just like you. People who make deliberate mistakes all the time, just like you. People who aren’t sure what they believe and wonder what the point is sometimes, just like you. But, church is also a place where you can come with all your unbelief, all your sins, all your problems and all your confusion and trust that God can handle it. In fact, God will do more with you than just tolerate you, he will love you, forgive you and create a new you.

Those three women who ran away from the tomb didn’t say anything about Jesus to anybody at first. If you are just like them, then you are in good company. But God didn’t just let them stay silent forever. If he had, then you and I wouldn’t be here, in this church, hearing the story. Eventually, faith grew—even out of all that confusion, all that fear and all that trembling. God will use you, even if you don’t know how or why.

This church is a community of faith where struggles take place. Where you may bring you fears and your questions and your frustrations. Where you may bring your unbelief and see if there is more than just an empty tomb. Where you can look for hope and love. And, for those of you who are struggling with mistakes and sins that are almost more than you can handle, church is a place where forgiveness takes place—not brainwashing, but heartwashing if you will. Where God promises today to let you in on the good news of Easter—Jesus died on a cross for all the bad stuff you’ve ever done and that you will ever do. He was raised from the dead so that all that bad stuff could stay nailed to the cross and so that you might go free. Some of you might have come today with fear and trembling, but you are all going home forgiven. Amen.