A Progressive Easter Message

Ah, Easter. Here we are again. Another year, another frantic search for chocolate eggs. Another rendition of stories that, let's be honest, raise more questions than they answer – especially for those who avoid the Christian church, because they think we’re just living off fairy tales.  So let’s consider these tales of the Resurrection of Jesus.  Let’s examine them together.  Come, let us reason together, as God said to Isaiah.

First, let’s consider Luke’s account – the one we’ve just heard. Mary Magdalene and some other women trot off to the tomb. Early. Very early. They find the stone rolled away. Empty. Gone. Then, poof! Two men in dazzling clothes appear. They deliver the news: Jesus isn't there. He has risen. Remember what he said? Back in Galilee? About being handed over? About being crucified? About rising on the third day? The women remember. They rush off. They tell the eleven. But the eleven think it's nonsense. Empty talk. Peter, though, he goes to the tomb. He looks. Just the linen wrappings. He wonders.

Now, what about Matthew’s account. Bit different, isn't it? A violent earthquake. An angel descends. This angel rolls back the stone. Sits on it! Terrifying the guards into a faint. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary arrive. The angel tells them not to be afraid. Jesus has risen. He's going ahead to Galilee. They should tell the disciples. They leave. Quickly. Afraid, yet filled with joy. Then, bam! Jesus himself meets them. They clasp his feet. They worship him. Jesus repeats the Galilee instruction.  Hmmm…that’s basically an entirely different story, about the same event.

Shall we look at Mark? Simplest of the lot. The women arrive. They see a young man. Dressed in white. He tells them Jesus is risen. He's going to Galilee. Tell the disciples. The women flee. They say nothing to anyone. Nothing to the eleven, nothing to Peter.  They are afraid. End of story. Well, the original ending, anyway. Later bits were tacked on.

And John? Mary Magdalene goes alone. The stone is gone. She runs to Peter and the beloved disciple. They both run back. Peter goes in. Sees the linen wrappings. The beloved disciple sees and believes. Mary stays outside. Weeping. She sees two angels. Then Jesus appears. She thinks he's the gardener. He says her name. Mary! She recognizes him. She tries to hold him. He says, "Don't cling to me." He hasn't ascended yet. Go tell the others.

Even Paul, writing much earlier, offers a different take. He lists eyewitnesses. Peter. The twelve. Over five hundred brothers and sisters at once. James. All the apostles. Last of all, Paul himself – in a vision on the road to Damascus. No empty tomb mentioned. No women finding angels. Just appearances.

So, what are we to make of all this? Identical accounts? Not exactly. Harmonious? Not really. Different details. Different emphases. Different characters even. Does this undermine the core message? Some people think so. They clutch at these discrepancies. They declare the whole thing a fabrication. A house of cards built on shaky foundations.

But what if the point isn't the literal, blow-by-blow account?  What if the point is the earth-shattering impact of this Jesus?  This radical rabbi who preached love for enemies. Who challenged the powerful. Who offered hope to the marginalized. This man was executed. Brutally. His followers were devastated. Their dreams lay shattered. Yet, something happened. Something profound. Something that reignited their hope. Something that propelled them out into the world with a message that ultimately turned the Roman Empire upside down. Was it a literal resuscitation of a corpse? Maybe. Maybe not.

Perhaps the stories of the empty tomb, the angels, the appearances, are the ways these early followers tried to articulate the inexpressible. The dawning realization that even death could not extinguish the flame that Jesus had lit. That his spirit, his message, his way of being in the world, was still alive. In them. Among them.

Could it be that our modern insistence on a physical resurrection, a scientifically verifiable event, is actually hindering belief for many? We live in a world obsessed with proof. With empirical evidence. And frankly, these ancient stories, with their inconsistencies and supernatural elements, don't always fit neatly into that framework.  It’s vital that we understand that the Gospels were not written as historical documents, but, as John says at the end of his Gospel, ‘to inspire belief’. 

What if we shifted our focus? What if we emphasized the spiritual resurrection? The enduring power of Jesus' love. The transformative potential of his teachings. The way his message continues to inspire acts of compassion, justice, and peace, two thousand years later.

Think about it. It’s impossible to deny the impact of Jesus' life and teachings? It’s impossible to dismiss the countless individuals who have been moved to change their lives, to work for a better world, because of him? Isn't that a kind of resurrection? A resurrection of hope. A resurrection of love. A resurrection of the human spirit.

Maybe the details of how it happened matter less than the undeniable fact that it something happened. Something shifted. That the world was never the same. That a small group of frightened disciples were transformed into bold proclaimers of a new reality. A reality where love conquers hate. Where justice rolls down like a mighty river.  Where even death has lost its sting.

So, this Easter, let's celebrate the enduring legacy of Jesus. Let’s not try to persuade our atheist friends and neighbours that they must believe the impossible in order to follow Jesus.  Or that they must ignore the enormous inconsistencies in the text.  Instead, let's embrace the power of his message. Let’s make Christianity credible again, to a modern generation.  Let's allow Jesus’ spirit to be resurrected in our own hearts and actions. For that, my friends, is a resurrection we can all believe in. A resurrection that continues to change the world, one act of love, one step towards justice, at a time. Now that's something worth celebrating.  Amen.