A Sure and Certain Hope

Matthew 28:1-10

A sure and certain...death. They did not abandon, leave, or forsaken their teacher, friend, and Lord. They followed him...all the way. Yes, those women that appear in the lineage at the beginning of Matthew, like little seeds of hope that bear witness, that tell the story of the way the world can and should be; when the ones whose lives and voices have been silenced; when outsiders break down barriers; when the refugees come home; when the abused are named; when the young, teenage, pregnant mother and the one to whom she is betrothed do the unthinkable - give birth to the Annointed One - the Messiah - the Christos - the God-with-us. These women, these are the ones who travel with, learn from, eat with, and care for Jesus. They follow him to the ends of the earth - or back to the beginning, back to Jerusalem, back to the place of God's promise and blessing, the seat of the Kingdom, where David reigned as King. They followed him, cheering in the parade behind his ride into town on a donkey, on the colt - the foal - of a donkey. They heard him preach five crazy sermons, or lessons, about the divisions - harsh divisions - of wheat and weeds, of wedding guests, of bridesmaids, of servants, of sheep and goats. They understood what he meant when he said, "Be perfect, as God is perfect." They heard the implied, "As I am perfect." They were there when he took the unleavened bread of the Passover feast, and declared, "I give you my body. I give you my blood." They were there when the centurions and the Roman politicians, and the religious leaders, and the crowd - when everything horrible, truly horrible happened. The believed he was the one. The Messiah. The Annointed One. The King. They believed - he was perfect. They believed. 

Even when he did not. Maybe you participated in our Afterchat with our friend, the professor of religion (and theatre!), Dr. Richard Swanson from Augustana University. He shared with us that this perfect, beloved, son of God, who was hunted, fled to Egypt, could not go home, whose entire age group was slaughtered by the first Herod, whose cousin John was slaughtered by the second Herod, that this God-with-us, made a shocking confession before dying on the cross. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me." His last recorded words. Jesus died believing he was alone, abandoned by a God he could not see, or feel. And while some scholars point out that he still believed, because he cried out to God, Swanson wonders why he did not then finish that Psalm, Psalm 22, that begins with this cry of abandonment, and ends with a confession of faith in a God the Psalmist could not see. 

Matthew throws us a twist here, because we, the readers, we know, we know, that Jesus has not been abandoned on the cross. Joseph of Arimathea - he is there. He asks Pilate for the body, and gives it a proper burial. And the women. The women are there. "They had followed from Galilee to care for his needs." They sit there. At the tomb. They sit there. Waiting. To know for sure that he is gone. The last breath expired.  They waited the three days, customary, to know that he was really, truly gone. They sat there with Roman centurions, made to watch the tomb to make sure no one (the women?) would steal the body, in order to claim that Jesus wasn't really dead. They all waited. To know. There is no way Jesus of Nazareth could have survived. Not death on the cross. Not the burial rituals. Not being in a tomb for three days. Dead. A sure and certain death.

How do you know - for sure and certain? 

A week ago, I had a crazy dream. I dreamt my beloved shi-tzu dog, Teddy, was alive. In fact, it was kind of a creepy dream where I lived in a previous house in a previous city, and it was my previous life, where I had no kids, and no husband, and no - you - and I knew it was wrong. As I struggled to wake up, I had that same feeling of waking up from the dream where I am back in high school, in college, and I'm failing my courses, because I haven't done the reading, because I've already finished those courses and done that reading! Or, I show up late to my hourly-paid job - like, years and years late, to find out that for the last twenty years, they've still given me shifts, named me the shift lead, and been docking my pay for not showing up to a job I no longer think I have. 

How do you know? That the vision you have in a dream, of that person you lost, that physical health you no longer have, that pre-pandemic life, pre-divorce or separation life, that pre-diagnosis life, that life that was once yours, that "before" is no longer? When you wake up, and you see the reality of what is set before you, in this after? The empty seat, the empty bank account, the empty bed - house, the long walks, the painful movement? 

How do you know? When you are sitting beside "them," for the first time on the same side of this.  Really dead. The women and the Roman guards watch, making sure the tomb is untouched, the body of the deceased safe inside. 

I wonder if it seemed like a dream, then, when the earth started to shake - violently shake? When the angel of the Lord descended, and rolled the stone away? When the guards - the ones living - became like the dead; and the angel invited them to look inside - the dead became alive. Were they really afraid? Or did something inside of them spring up, just a little bit, hoping they might see their teacher, their friend, - maybe not walking out of the tomb, maybe not sitting up, maybe not even moving.  Just a little twitch of the eye. A small movement of breath. 

No. Nothing. Nothing inside. The angel tells them, before they can even get there, be there, peer inside.  Nothing to look at here, ladies! Because he is risen. He goes ahead of you. Go to Galilee. He will meet you there. 

Not sure. Not certain. But it's there. Dare they? Can they? Will they? Hope? After all the horrible-ness.  The violence, the abandonment, the death, the burial. Can they hope, just a little?

How does one hope, with a Sure and Certain Hope? How do you know it's more than a dream? A confusing dream? A nightmare dream? A comforting dream? How do you know your hope is real? Sure? Certain?

They run with fear AND joy, longing to see him. When they do they fall, grab onto his feet, those feet that have carried him throughout the countryside teaching, healing, feeding, praying; those feet that have been pierced; those resurrected feet which carry him to jump out with a surprise greeting now. They fall, and they worship.

Does he look different to you? This Jesus? After? After the pain, the loss, the sorrow, the abandonment? Swanson argues this is a Jesus transformed. Not resuscitated. Resurrected! It's not about breathing! It's about life. Real life. 

It's about life that happens. Hunger. Poverty. Imprisonment. Oppression. Loss. Separation. Illness. Abuse. War. Famine. Flood. Hurricane. Fire. Divorce. Separation. Abandonment. 

I don't know where you are today, or what you came here looking to find. I can only tell you that I am a woman, who has dedicated her life to following this Jesus who feeds, heals, teaches, and restores. I have followed him, in order that I might bear witness, that is see him and share him with you. I tell you this morning, I have seen the Lord! 

I have seen the Lord in the reunions of those long separated.

I have seen the Lord in the community that surrounds those who are grieving.

I have seen the Lord in the mental health hospital when the abused forgave the abuser.

I have seen the Lord in the sharing of food - food given in our pantry, meals offered by clients.

I have seen the Lord in the mother and father who put aside past pains and expectations to love their children.

I have seen the Lord in the surprise of that long-forgotten feeling of love, tenderness, and caring.

I have seen the Lord in the courage of those for whom every day without drugs and alcohol is a good day.

I have seen the Lord in the faces of those who are ending their earthly journey, yes, whose bodies are dying, but whose spirits are reaching for the eternal. 

I have seen the Lord when we embrace the other and allow ourselves to be changed by who they are, and what they bring.

I have seen the Lord, dear friends, here and now, as we gather together, to reach out with small hope for the feet of the Risen Lord, and who, having clasped them, worship the risen savior, Son of Man, Son of God, with a sure and certain hope.

For surely, dear friends, if we have been united with Christ in a death like his, we will surely and certainly be united with Christ in a resurrection like his. 

Sure.  Certain.  Hope.  Amen.

Rev. Dr. Melodie Jones Pointon