1 On the first day of the week, at early dawn, [the women] went to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. 2 They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3 but when they went in they did not find the body. 4 While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. 5 The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here but has risen. 6 Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, 7 that the Son of Man must be handed over to the hands of sinners and be crucified and on the third day rise again.” 8 Then they remembered his words, 9 and returning from the tomb they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. 10 Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. 11 But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. 12 But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.
Luke 24:1-12
My sermon from Easter Sunday (April 20, 2025) on Luke 24:1-12.
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I want to start today’s sermon with a question: what’s your favorite moment from a book, movie, comicbook, or video game when everything suddenly turns for the better? I’m not really thinking about the climax to the story or that one scene revealing what the entire movie was all about. Rather, at that moment when it appears as if our heroes are about to be completely overwhelmed, a sound, a movement, and word turns everything around. Now as a lifelong nerd, many of my favorite stories include those kinds of moments. For example, it’s when Captain America tightens his shield for one more go at the villain Thanos but then suddenly hears in his ear, the Falcon say: “on your left.” Or it’s what we feel when during the last Lord of the Rings movie, when a horn blows announcing that the horse riders from Rohan have arrived to face off against the armies of Mordor as they rampage through the city of Minas Tirith. Or it’s what our heart does when we’re turning the page after the villains known as the Hellfire club have finally defeated the X-men and left Wolverine for dead only to see him emerge across several panels saying “you’ve taken yer best shot. Now it’s my turn.” It doesn’t matter if we’re watching this story for the first time or for the hundredth – these are the moments that catch our breath and cause a few tears to form in the corner of our eyes. JRR Tolkein, who wrote the Lords of the Rings, actually gave this phenomenon a name – calling it an “eucatastrophe.” An eucatastrophe is exactly what it sounds like – the opposite of a catastrophe. It’s that moment when our world seems like it’s about to collapse but then something happens and we realize our world might actually become what it’s meant to be instead.
But what makes the eucatastrophe of Easter morning so strange is that, unlike the movies, it wasn’t immediately seen or believed. We can usually tell something good is about to take place in the stories we read because our hearts start to feel as if they’re being lifted out of our chest. This doesn’t mean that the struggle, pain, or suffering is finally over. Rather, we realize what’s been and what will be is about to become something more. Hope, in essence, becomes real, serving as the fuel needed for all the living that there’s still left to do. When the eucatastrophe comes into view, we and the characters within the story have basically the same kind of experience. But when the women, as we heard in our reading from the gospel of Luke, showed up at Jesus’ tomb, their excitement was rather dull and muted. The stone covering the doorway they couldn’t move had been rolled away and the body they expected to find wasn’t there. Yet when two angels let them know what God was up to, the joy we expected to hear was instead filled with confusion, fear, and even disbelief. Jesus’ friends, some who had been with him since he had walked along the shore of the Sea of Galilee, had experienced quite the emotional roller coaster over a few short days. When they first arrived in the city of Jerusalem, they had the courage to wave palm branches in the air as a way to publicly proclaim Jesus as a king. They did this while the Roman Governor Pontius Pilate, along with a legion of soldiers, entered the city at the same exact time. Their protest of who was actually in charge felt, in comparison, pretty small but Jesus’ friends had already seen him show what the kingdom of God is all about. His power, his wisdom, his willingness to welcome those we push away had made his disciples feel as if they finally belonged. Yet when Judas, only a few days later, sold Jesus out and led a detachment of soldiers and police to arrest him, the excitement of disciples completely changed. They assumed that the One who could calm storms with only a word would easily overwhelm the storm of violence and suffering caused by those who favored tyranny and greed. Jesus, though, was soon consumed by all the forces gathered against him and many of his friends fled from sight. Others, though, bore witness to the ongoing catastrophe that was upending Jesus’ life and their own. They had expected the Son of God to transform their lives into something new. But when the stone was finally rolled over the door to His tomb, it seemed as if every one of their hopes and dreams was sealed up inside.
So that might be why, when the women arrived at the tomb carrying the spices necessary to complete the burial rituals practiced by their community, it took time to process what that moment might be. The catastrophe they lived – was no longer where they expected it to be. And while their hearts and their souls tried to comprehend the breaking of each one of their expectations, the angels spoke into their confusion by reminding them of the other kind of living they had already done too. Their experience of being known and being valued; of being loved and being included; of participating in the abundant life that comes when it’s full of mercy, justice, forgiveness, and hope – that was the reminder that our catastrophes do not define what our lives will ultimately be about. The God who made friends; the Son who listened, laughed, and cried; and the Jesus who experienced the many ways we try to end every story – has already written, and will keep writing, a new story instead. We, in general, are much more used to catastrophes rather eucatastrophes. What regularly catches our breath and unsettles our heart isn’t always joy. We know what it’s like to have our dreams end and our regrets grow. And while we often spend the earliest parts of our lives longing for a joyous turn into a future filled with opportunities, comfort, and peace; the turn we want when we’re older is a return to what has been. Life has a habit of overwhelming us with a diagnosis, an accident, a lost job, a tragedy, a broken relationship, and even sometimes convincing us to create an environment where only certain kinds of people are celebrated and included. The future we often work to build is one lacking the imagination to fully recognize what God’s love will always do. The women, when they came back from the tomb, did more than simply listen to what the angels said and notice what their experiences told them. They also had the courage to tell those living in a catastrophe that a new story was written for them. And while the stories we re-watch over and over again include these announcements that something good is on its way, the turn these women shared had already begun. While the world slept and those who pedal in fear went back to their homes thinking they had won, the next chapter in our story was written. It was a word that didn’t depend on what we saw, what we heard, what we did, or even what we believed. Rather, God acted because God’s love refused to do anything less. The eucatastrophe of Easter isn’t announcing that this story is over. Rather, it’s a holy proclamation that your story has only just begun. And while our lives are often full of all kinds of joys and sorrows, hopes and dreams, catastrophes and days when we’re just trying to make it to tomorrow, the Jesus who still lives; the Jesus who loves; and the Jesus who has promised to always be with you – is the One who will carry you into your new chapter filled with hope, mercy, and light.
Amen.