2026-04-14
Brooke Strong
Sermon Text...
Mike and I have a running joke in our house: I say something and then a few seconds later, he will say the exact same thing as though it has never been uttered before. My response, as I roll my eyes at him, is always the same: “I just said that, but I know it doesn’t really count until you say it.”
The reality is usually that Mike simply didn’t hear me or wasn’t paying attention, but we always laugh when this happens. In a culture where we know it to be true that women’s voices are ignored or silenced far too often, we are able to make light of this serious issue because it is never truly the case in our house . . . Just like it isn’t the case here at Federated. In fact, earlier this year, Judy, Susi and I learned that some of the younger women in the church were referring to us as the Dream Team because they loved that our pastoral leadership, at least in the short-term, was all women. I have since heard several more similar references, including from men. I love that! And yet
. . . hold that thought!
Have you ever noticed that the stories of the resurrection in all four gospels report that women are ones who find the empty tomb? In Luke’s version, the one on which we reflect today, the author even names three of the females, something that is very unusual in the bible, and then he notes that many more women were with them. So, a gaggle of females arrive at the tomb, find it empty, then encounter angels who remind them of Jesus’ message that he would be killed and, three days later, be raised.
Realizing what had happened, the women run to tell disciples.
Their response? All of them except Peter dismiss them, saying that they are speaking nonsense and telling an idle tale. Given this, many commentators take up the idea of this as a sexist response, like the exchange Mike and I often have: the words of women being dismissed and overlooked.
But in reality, who could blame the disciples? Because even though three different times, Jesus predicted both his death and his rising, it seemed no one really expected the resurrection. There isn’t one account of someone shouting “Alleluia!” when they hear that their friend has been raised to life. Absolutely no one proclaimed, “I knew it! Just like he said!”
That Jesus is risen means that God has entered human history to create a completely new reality . . . and this is an idea that frightens even the most stoic disciples . . . and many of the faithful today. The resurrection knocks everything off balance and throws people’s neat, orderly lives out of whack. As professor Anna Carter Florence says, if the dead don’t stay dead, what can we count on? No wonder the disciples called the women’s story an idle tale!
Friends, I’ll let you in on a little secret: being pastor on Easter difficult! We have a story to tell that forces us to try to explain the unexplainable. But we cannot do that. It’s not our job to explain this event; we are simply charged to
proclaim it. There are no plausible mechanics or science to describe this mystery that theologian Rowan Williams calls a painfully untidy story.
So I’m not going try to explain, but rather just proclaim, that God does impossible things every day and we can either choose to ignore and dismiss them, or trust and embrace them. Here is what I can say: Easter isn’t like Christmas. It is not an event we gather to remember. It is something we live and breathe because Jesus is alive. Still. Here. Today.
He shows up as a transformational, transfiguring presence in a fraught world. But it is often hard to notice the power of this moment in a society full of divisiveness, unjust war and family strife. Yet if we slow down and pay attention, if we open our hearts to experience wonder and welcome the unexpected as the women did that morning at the tomb, we will be amazed by what we may discover. For example, anyone who has lost someone they love knows that Jesus is alive when they find the strength to move beyond death and grief to continue living and loving others.
Jesus is alive, but the stories of resurrection aren’t always instantaneous miracles. Look at Peter’s response. Although he was able to hear women’s stories when colleagues couldn’t, when he ran to tomb to check for himself and found the tomb empty, he needed time to process. Peter returned home, amazed, or more accurately translated, wondering. We get it! Just like many
of us, Peter needed time to come to realize the truth of God’s promises!
As much as I have gotten a kick out of people saying that this year of the women at Federated has been a dream, the reality is that gender doesn’t really matter. Because the person whom God uses to share the message is just a vessel. It is the response of those who hear it that truly matters. So, friends, are you able to embrace the expansiveness of the resurrection? Can you enable your imaginations and hearts to grow to perceive its power? This has been the message of our Lenten full to the brim theme as we focused on God’s lavish love and endless grace. My hope is that we will all trust that promise and carry it with us into the future.
When the women arrived at the tomb on that Sunday morning long ago, they came bearing armloads of spices for preparing Jesus’ body. But finding him gone, they had no use for them and had to lay them aside. Similarly, as much as I treasure the time we have shared together and the things we have accomplished over these last seventeen months, as you prepare to welcome your new pastor in just over a week, I challenge you to loosen your grip on the things you carry so that you can best prepare for the bright future that lies ahead of you.
This morning, whether the voice sharing the news of resurrection is a resonant bass like that of James Earl Jones or the high-pitched squeals of a gaggle of excited women, we proclaim the news that some find to be an idle tale: Alleluia, Christ is risen!
We share this and we offer space for the risen Christ to touch our hearts and deliver us from rolling our eyes and instead to run just like Peter to find the places where new faith is blooming and to trust God’s promises . . . even when we can’t explain them. May it be so. Amen.