Easter Vigil, Yr A (2026) The Rev. Karen C. Barfield

Easter Vigil, Yr A (2026)                                                         The Rev. Karen C. Barfield

Matthew 28:1-10                                                                St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church

In the name of the one, holy, and loving God:

            who was, and is, and is to come.  Amen.

“After the sabbath,

            as the first day of the week was dawning,

                        Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb.”

Friday had been horrific.

Jesus had talked about his impending death, but it just wasn’t real…

at least

not until his arrest.

What a travesty –

              a mockery –

                        of justice.

Sure, Jesus got angry every now and then

            but for good reason.

      Most of the time he was gentle.

There was a power…

a strong, inviting yet gentle power that came from within him.

Why did he need to be derided

            and stripped

                        and beaten until his flesh was raw

                                    and hung on a cross in such a shameful way?

Jesus was a man of love and grace and forgiveness,

            and now…

       now he was dead. 

Today a large stone and guards stood between the world and his body,

            but the Marys came nevertheless, just to be close to Jesus again…

                        seeking some solace, some understanding of the last days’ events.

It had only been two days,

but they had already begun to experience that hole inside…

                        that emptiness.

Whenever they heard a noise, they glanced up,

hoping to see Jesus coming around the corner,

            but it wasn’t…

      it was just a stray dog or a neighbor coming to check on them.

So, this morning, after a fitful night’s sleep,

            they came to the tomb hoping to find some solace.

When they arrived, the earth shook,

            and an angel of the Lord appeared, all dazzling white.

And that angel,

with no effort at all,

        rolled back that stone and sat perched on top.

The guards were frozen with fear…

and rightly so!

This first day of the week,

filled with death,

      was about to be accompanied by Life!

“Do not be afraid,” the angel said. 

“You are looking for Jesus who was crucified. 

He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said.” 

       Come and see.

Come and see.

Could it be?!

Jesus had told them all that he was going to die and that he would rise again.

He had died…

            They had witnessed that horror.

      So, had he really risen from the dead, too?!

After gazing into the tomb and seeing that Jesus’ body was gone,

the two Marys left the tomb quickly.

They were filled “with fear and great joy.”

Their deep, deep sorrow had suddenly been enlivened by a glimmer of hope,

but despite the angel’s words…fear lingered.

As they were running to tell the other disciples what they had seen and heard,

Jesus himself appeared to them.

Suddenly filled with new life,

they took hold of his feet and worshiped him.

And then for the second time that morning,

the two Marys heard those words:

      “Do not be afraid.”

Do not be afraid.

            I imagine they feared for their own lives!

If Jesus had been killed, they could be as well…

they better watch what they said and did.

What a week it had been for Jesus’ disciples.

What a week it has been for us!

War continues to rage in Iran and across the Middle East.

War continues to rage in Ukraine and Russia.

Cuba is in and out of darkness,

            and an already devastated country struggles to survive.

Some of us have undergone surgery.

We mourn the deaths of fellow parishioners.

Life and death.

            Fear and joy.

Our lives are intermingled with both,

sometimes in the same day, or even, as for the two Marys….

        just moments apart.

But tonight,

after a long week,

       we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus.

The resurrection is not about human actions or possibilities

but wholly about God’s determination to draw us closer….

God acts at that boundary of life that we call death and does something altogether new! (Cameron Murchison in Feasting on the Word, Yr A, Vol 2, p. 348)

Within these words: “He is not here” lie deep hope for the world,

            deep hope for us…

        even in the midst of deep sorrow.

Do not be afraid.

God has overcome death,

            and God sustains us in this life.

In the words of Ernest Hemingway: “Life breaks everyone.”

- as life broke for the disciples on that Good Friday so long ago.

Those words, “Do not be afraid,” do not mean that nothing will go wrong…

it often does. 

Nor does it mean that everything will turn out for the best…

sometimes it doesn’t.

But, those words, “Do not be afraid,”

are the words of assurance that in the valleys of our lives,

       God is with us. 

Nothing we can encounter is stronger than God’s love.

These words are words that engender courage…

words that help us to act even in the face of fear,

or pain,

  or disappointment,

or deep, deep sorrow.

Do not be afraid.

In the resurrection of Jesus,

            we know that love overcomes hate,

                        mercy overcomes judgment,

        life overcomes death.

Even in the moments when our pain or sorrow seem overwhelming,

            God walks with us.

Fear and joy,

despair and hope,

doubt and faith,

      these are the two sides of our lives in this world.

Yet, Christ’s resurrection signals above and beyond all else

that our God is a God of new life and never-ending possibility.

It is this new life of hope, peace, grace, and justice that we celebrate tonight.

Jesus has gone before

            and bids us to come and follow,

       promising to be with us to the end of the age.

And for this we say:

Alleluia! Alleluia! Christ is risen.

The Lord is risen indeed.  Alleluia! Alleluia!

Amen.