Enter The Tomb

Easter Sunday

Acts 10: 34a, 37-43; 1 Corinthians 5: 6b-8; 

John 20: 1-9

The disciples were in a state of confusion. This Jesus that they had followed had been taken from them; handed over, tried & convicted, sentenced to death, hung on a cross between two criminals and executed. They had seen Jesus feed the multitude with only a couple of loaves and some dried fish. They witnessed him driving out demons. With this Jesus, the blind could see, the deaf could hear, the lame could run. But now he was gone and they didn't know what to do. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Could this really be the end?

Even in their confusion, they recalled his words: “Destroy this temple and in three days I will rebuild it.” What could that mean? They were about to find out.

Early in the morning, on the third day, there was a frantic knock on the door. It was Mary of Magdala. “The stone has been removed and the tomb is empty – come and see.” And so Peter and John raced to the tomb. John was a young man, full of energy and vigor. Peter was probably middle-aged – perhaps with a “spare tire” around his middle. It wasn't a very fair race. John won easily. He stopped at the entrance to the tomb and peered inside. But he could not go in. He was afraid. Presently, Peter arrived and entered the tomb with John following. They saw the burial cloths in a heap on the floor. They saw the wrappings for his head by themselves in the corner. They saw and they believed. They might not have understood completely what was happening, but they saw and believed.

I felt like St. John once. A few years ago my father-in-law got sick and was taken to the hospital. They ran some tests and they found cancer in his lungs and a tumor in his brain. There was nothing that they could do. They treated the tumor with radiation, in the hope that it would slow the growth, but the outcome was clear. He was taken home and made comfortable. There were many visitors – but as the end got close, my visits stopped. I did not want to see him dying. I was afraid. My wife and her siblings stayed with him until the end. But I could not be there.

One morning I was at work and I got the call – he's gone - pick up the boys from school and come over to the house to be with the family. The whole drive over I was petrified. When we parked the car, I stood there on the sidewalk, but I couldn't make myself go inside. My sons, however, had no hesitation. They walked up the steps and inside the door. So I followed. We went back to the bedroom and my father-in-law was in the bed – at peace. We sat in chairs around the bed. We told stories – we sang hymns – we laughed – we cried – it was a precious moment that I will never forget. Later, I managed to find a quiet spot in the house where I could be alone. My wife came and found me – she was concerned that I was having trouble with the situation. I told her that I was OK and just needed some time alone. What I didn't tell her was that I was praying – I was thanking God for this gentle soul. But more than that – I was thanking God for allowing me to witness the glory of the resurrection, right there in that house.

We all have our own demons to face. We all have our fears and our pains. Some are right on the surface, but some we have buried so deep within ourselves that we forget they are there. Perhaps we were humiliated or teased. Maybe we were bullied or victimized. Maybe we were abused. These feelings have caused us to die a little inside. We have buried these feelings and put them into tombs of our own making.

Jesus died on the cross to save us from sin – not just the sins we commit, but also the sins that others have committed against us. We can give that pain and that fear over to Jesus and he will take it all away. That is the glory of the resurrection. But before we can heal – before we can know that joy – we have to visit the tomb. We have to enter the tomb and experience the resurrection firsthand. Only then can we turn death into new life. Only then can we feel the healing embrace of our Risen Savior. Only then can we see and believe.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

Easter Sunday

April 24, 2011