While it was still dark, the Son had already risen -- Easter, April 4, 2010
WHILE IT WAS STILL DARK, THE SON HAD ALREADY RISEN
Luke 24:1-12
A reporter once covered the sunrise service that is held each Easter on the rim of the Grand Canyon. It was cold – below freezing, actually – and he had not worn a coat. Not a particularly religious man, he stood there shivering dolefully and wishing himself back in bed.
“But then,” he said, “when the sun cleared the canyon rim, and light poured into that stupendous chasm, I forgot all about being cold. One moment everything was gray, formless. Then came torrents of light plunging down the canyon walls, making them blaze with color, dissolving the blackness into purple shadows that eddied like smoke. Standing there, I had a most indescribable feeling, a conviction that the darkness that had filled the great gorge was an illusion, that only the light was real, and that we silent watchers on the canyon rim were somehow a part of the light.”
In that moment he perceived a profound truth: darkness is powerless before the onslaught of light. And so it is with sin and death. This is the good news of Easter.
When Jesus died on Friday, it seemed to his followers that darkness had woven a shroud for the sun and the earth had lost its light. As they laid his body in the tomb, their whole world was tinged with black. Saturday, the Sabbath, was a day of somber silence. Shadows and worry haunted them; darkness and grief enveloped them and crept into their souls.
At the crack of dawn on Sunday, the women, heavy hearted, came to the tomb carrying the spices they had prepared to finish the job that time had not permitted on Friday. When they arrived at the place where Jesus was laid, they found the large stone that had sealed the tomb rolled away, the body of their teacher gone. Sorrow gave way to perplexity.
Suddenly two men in luminous clothing – heavenly messengers, surely – appeared beside them and announced Jesus’ resurrection: “He is not here, but has risen.” As the rays of the rising sun brightened the eastern sky, perplexity gave way to the dawning of hope, and then joy. Jesus had come back to them. He was alive! As the sun rose – that’s when it was discovered that God’s Son had risen, too.
Think about what this meant. It meant that before daybreak, God was already working to overcome the horror of Friday. While it was still dark, the stone was moved. While it was still dark, God raised Jesus Christ to new life. He was alive before dawn, before those who loved him were able to see and believe. Although they felt lost and alone, Jesus wasn’t far away. He was already alive. Hope was alive. The future was bright, brimming with possibility, brimming with light and life.
Think about what this means now. While it is still dark in your life, God is at work and the Son has already risen. When you experience rejection and it is hard to move on, remember, while it is still dark, God is at work and the Son has already risen. When you are forced into early retirement and the future seems bleak, remember, while it is still dark, God is at work and the Son has already risen. When the news the doctor gives you is bad, remember, while it is still dark, God is at work and the Son has already risen. When a relationship has been wounded or severed, remember, while it is still dark, God is at work and the Son has already risen. When your child makes bad life choices, remember, while it is still dark, God is at work and the Son has already risen. When you are saying good-bye to someone who has died, remember, while it is still dark, God is at work and the Son has already risen. When your heart is devastated and the darkness matches your spirit, whether you know it or not, God is at work and the Son has already risen!
Because of Easter, new life is possible. Healing and forgiveness and freedom and new direction are all possible. As dawn scatters darkness, so Christ transformed death – and the living death that is sin – from a sunset to a sunrise. No matter how long and dark the night, day is sure to break. Because of Easter, we are Sonrise/sunrise people.
So let me close with another sunrise story, one of my favorites. A father and his young son went on an overnight camping trip for the first time. While it was still quite dark and night-chill filled the air, the father arose, started a fire, and woke his sleeping son. After protesting a little, the boy understood that they were up and struggling to keep warm around the fire in order to witness the sunrise. Soon it began. The blackness in the east turned to gray. Then gray to blue. The image of a lake and shadowy trees began to emerge. Then the blue turned to a near-white color. Finally, pinks, violets, and orange hues emerged in the east over the pines and birches. Then a piercing brilliance of reddish-orange appeared at treetop on the horizon, like a slice of melon, as the sun leaped upward. They watched this display silently until the boy whispered wistfully: “Dad, do it again!”
How we wish we could! But we don’t have to, because God does – with each new day. Each dawn proclaims resurrection. Every sunrise tells of a new beginning.
Easter was a once-for-all happening in terms of the victory won by God in Christ over the forces of darkness. When it was darkest, God was at work. While it was still dark, the Son had already risen.
Yet Easter is needed many, many times in our lives. And the best place for the Good News to be received is at the point of darkness, when we need it most. So remember, when it is darkest, God is at work. While it is still dark, the Son has already risen.
Alleluia and amen!