But he said to them,
“Do not be alarmed;
you are looking for Jesus
of Nazareth, who was
crucified. He has been
raised; he is not here.
Look, there is the place
they laid him.”
A few miles outside of the town where I was raised is an old farmhouse that sits a ways off the gravel county road that runs by it. It was built many years ago right at the top of a hill where it could be seen for miles across the prairie. It was the kind of home that was built for generations of families to live in.
But that was long ago. When I saw this house for the first time I could tell even from far away that it was empty. As one drove by you could see right through to the other side through the empty windows. The roof sagged awkwardly at one end and the porch had nearly fallen away from the rest of the house. The farmer who owned the land had planted corn right up to its foundation.
I mention this memory because it reminds me of the empty tomb that we celebrate. It took me a while to understand that the feelings of sadness and longing that I felt when I saw that old house were really misplaced. That old house is a symbol of joy, not of sadness, because in its emptiness is new life.
The families who were long ago raised and nurtured there have become this generation’s farmers, teachers, doctors, pastors and social workers. Today they live scattered across the landscape. They give life to communities that their ancestors never dreamed of.
The joy of Easter is that the tomb is empty, and in its emptiness is new life. Everything about who we are as people of faith springs from the resurrection of Jesus. The generations that will gather to worship this Sunday are directly connected to what happened in that cemetery outside Jerusalem 2000 years ago. It is at the empty tomb that we discover who we are as people of God. It is here that we come to make sense out of the great questions of this life that we share. It is at the empty tomb that we find the courage and the strength to share our faith with others.
When we stand before the empty grave of Jesus we finally understand that God’s love for us is eternal. We can see in it that God’s care for us is unwavering and boundless. The story of Easter, at its very core, is a story of love. God is not separate from us. God is so deeply connected to us that he came and lived among us.
Jesus taught us, healed us, prayed over us and suffered for us. Then he died with our sins on his shoulders so that we might live once again.
The promise of the empty tomb is at the very center of our faith. There is no ambiguity here. Jesus was crucified and his dead body was placed in the ground. But the story didn’t end there. Jesus is risen! Jesus lives! God overcame death for us and we now rest in the assurance of eternal life. When we look into the empty tomb of Easter morning we cannot help but be changed by this.
Easter isn’t something that we gather once a year to celebrate. Jesus’ resurrection is at the center of everything that we do as Christians. Like that old farmhouse that today sits surrounded by cornfields, the tomb is empty, and yet its story is still unfolding because those who witnessed the risen Christ had the courage to go out and proclaim what they had seen. We are now a part of that living and ever-widening faith.
The empty tomb is the foundation of our faith and the center of our joy. Its darkness is the source of our light. It stands empty so that we might live.
May you feel God’s love upon you today, and may your heart be filled with the joy of the resurrection. Jesus is risen! Believe the good news! Jesus is risen indeed!
Each month a member of the Cook County Ministerium will offer Spiritual Reflections. This month’s contributor is Tom Murray of the Lutsen and Zion Lutheran Churches.
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