It comes in waves, grief does.
It is not a constant thing. And when you think that you are moving on another wave can hit you by surprise and leave you right back in the place you were trying to crawl out of.
A big part of my life over the last 18 months has been adjusting to a world in which two of my friends are no longer present. Unexpected deaths, relatively young. Lives cut short. Ministries in the church unfinished. And friends left behind.
I am a friend left behind.
And so I find as I approach the Easter story this year, that my eye is drawn very strongly to those who make their way to the tomb to anoint the body of the Lord. Those who were grieving.
The gospels tell of a number of people who make their way to the tomb in the first light of the day. Women first and foremost in their love. And in their grief.
What are they thinking as they make their way to the tomb? Well, I don’t just know what they are thinking, I can feel it.
Waves of grief, numbness and despair.
Grief comes in waves.
And in those depths, grief is a most bitter companion.
I will admit to not having always been myself when I have felt those waves of grief. I have not been the person I’d want to be.
And this year I have found myself not living in the kind of world that I want to live in either. There is much that leaves me grieving for a better world that we glimpsed and then saw snatched away.
The continuing Russian war directed against Ukraine has destabilised a Europe which seemed to have found the way of peace.
The ongoing horror in the Middle East has not simply destabilised the world, it has disturbed our minds and made peace – salaam and shalom feel agonisingly out of reach.
Warmongering, terrorism and the weaponizing of civilians leave me grieving for the world I had hoped for. For too many months, gross injustice in Gaza has been played out on our newscreens, For too many months kidnapped hostages have been away from all whom they love.
It is easy to feel that hope has been killed, and has been buried forever in a cold, stone-sealed tomb.
But comes the dawn and come the women to the tomb.
They come weeping. They return rejoicing.
The news that they proclaim on Easter Day is that death never has the last word. And hope triumphs when all seems lost.
Have we ever needed to hear the news of Easter more – that Jesus is risen from the grave, that despair doesn’t win, that green blades of growth rise from all that seemed buried and gone.
Grief comes in waves. But so does love.
And the waves of love that spread out from what those women shared in the first light of the first Easter Day changed their world, change our world and will go on changing the world as we spread it ever further.
- God has not forgotten the broken hearted.
- God has not forgotten the grief-stricken.
- God has not forgotten those for whom despair has become almost who they are.
That wave of God’s love did not begin on Easter Day, for it is as old as time, but Christ risen from the grave is when we witness its greatest triumph.
Love, hope and belief in new life are not optional extras for Christian people. They are the reason we are who we are and do what we do.
Despair and grief are real, even the bitter grief of hopes dashed. But the story of who we are doesn’t conclude by the side of a grave. Our story begins at an empty tomb.
Yes, the world is a mess.
But it has you and I in it and we know by the story that we preach and proclaim that new life is our inheritance and our hope. Things never have to remain the way they are.
This year will be a year of great change in this world. Momentous change. This is the year in which more people will vote in elections than have ever done since the democratic era began.
Every part of the world needs people in it who believe in a better world, a world where justice for the poor, integrity for those who govern and kindness for the troubled are the building blocks of the world we wish to see.
This year our election process in this country could well be a painful and hurtful time.
It demeans us all when an election is portrayed in the simplistic banality of a phrase such as stop the boats. Such language threatens those who need help most and diminishes us all. It is the language of the tomb. We need to move the conversation away from Stop the Boats towards Stop the Hatred. Xenophobia, fear of foreigners and naked racism are already dancing behind the words of too much electioneering.
But ultimately it will not win.
Good people believe in better things.
God’s people believe in better things.
Sometimes hope feels like something you have determinedly try to drag out of yourself. Sometimes though it bursts forth from no-where. A wave of love joy, hope and peace bursts unexpectedly from our inner tomb.
The promise of Easter is not that new life is possible it is the promise that it is inevitable.
And I believe it.
Christians believe in a better world than we already have. We believe in a world where the poor are fed, the lonely are comforted and the sound of war is heard no more in any land. We believe in salvation – the healing of the world.
The story that we are caught up in as Christian people on Easter Day is the story of salvation. And salvation is not the church bobbing around on the waves of this world plucking a few lucky souls to safety. Salvation is the great wave of God’s love that will sweep us all home.
Early this morning, we baptised people into this story, confident that they will bring new life into this world and confident that they will rise with Christ.
Early this morning we lit a fire and brought candlelight into this church to proclaim that gloom will not win. Light and glory will cast every shadow away.
Early this morning, Christ rose from the grave. Not only is death not the end but new life is real. The wave of God’s love has reached all the world. It has even reached us here. It has come to you.
I believe in things worth believing in.
New life for all. Love, joy and peace in abundance.
And I believe that Jesus Christ is risen from the grave. For if Christ were not risen from the grave then we would not be gathered here, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Amen
I believe it too Kelvin
I hope others reply too
Thank you so much for that Easter sermon. It was such a welcome contrast to presentations of the Easter message as a personal comfort blanket which leaves the world to go to hell. I was grateful to hear it on Sunday and have been blessed by watching it again this morning.
I literarily restrained myself from shedding tears at this moving sermon. It was and it is still full of hope and assurance.