Ready or Not

Matthew 28:1-10, Easter Sunday

Good morning!

Did you come to church this morning looking for God?

On that first Easter morning, Mary Magdalene and The Other Mary weren’t looking.  Not for a new experience of God, maybe not even for answers.  They knew what they were getting: a sealed tomb, maybe a chance to weep, to let the grief and loss of the last few days sink in and become real.

They knew how the story ends.

And then it doesn’t.

The earth quakes.  The sky flashes like lightning.

A brilliant messenger appears, and brushes back the heavy rock at the entrance to the tomb as though it’s nothing.

Many of the gospel Easter stories see the empty tomb as a mystery, a story of suspense and wonder.  Matthew sees it as a fast-paced special effects blockbuster.

We just glimpse the Marys, in the early dawn, on their way to the tomb, and in a burst of light and noise, resurrection finds them.

First, with the news that the tomb is empty, and then, as they run off to carry the report, resurrection interrupts them on the way.

Jesus appears, and says, “Good morning!”

As famous first words go, it’s a little underwhelming.

After all the lightning and effects of the first news, Jesus, risen living from the grave,  simply stands there and says,

“Good morning.”

(which always makes me laugh)

Taken literally from the Greek, the first word of the resurrected Jesus is “Rejoice!”  But chairete is a greeting so common in first century Greek that the best translation really is, “Good morning!” or even, “Hello!”

So ordinary. So perfect.

Sometimes resurrection is dramatic and amazing. Sometimes it’s remarkably ordinary.  Joy that just happens.

A couple of weeks ago I visited my friend Sadie, who is three, and we played Hide and Seek.

Sadie showed me what to do.

“I will hide here, and you will find me!”

“Now I will count and I will find you. Where will you hide?!”

Her parents reminded her that you’re not supposed to tell where you’re hiding.  And Sadie tried that.  But when the time came for Mama to get in the game, we were back to what really mattered.

 “Mama, come and find me!  Find me here!”

For Sadie, the game isn’t about the search, or about winning.

It’s all about the finding. 

Because being found by someone who loves you is a moment of sheer joy.

And you can do it over and over again.

This morning, this resurrection, Jesus reminds me of Sadie: Too eager to wait, insisting on being found, breaking norms and rules to be discovered without our even searching.

I’ve played Hide and Seek hundreds of times.  But with Sadie, I learned something new.  In this game my job, hiding or seeking, was to be available for that moment of delight.

I think that’s what God wants from us, when we face resurrection.

Whether we are seeking or hiding, whether grieving or urgently busy, whether we’re bored and tired or content,

God calls us to live wide open to that moment of joyful discovery, of finding and being found by love.

Just because it’s simple doesn’t mean it’s easy.

Grief still matters.  Pain doesn’t vanish.  We’re still busy: busy at our work, busy at God’s work; either can make us tired or focused or distracted.

And most days in our lives, resurrection doesn’t come with lightning and drama.

More often, that call to find and be found by God is as ordinary as “Good morning!”

It’s unexpected and easy laughter when you thought you would be bored. 

It’s morning birdsong when the weeks have been endlessly gray.

It’s a phone call, a smile, an errand to pick someone up.

It’s when knowing where you are is transformed into “I found you!!!” 

and the moment of discovery seizes our hearts with delight and reclaims our broken or busy lives for love.

That’s the Easter gospel story.

And that’s why we celebrate Easter. With bunnies and chocolate and hidden eggs, with “Alleluia!” sung or shouted together, we’re practicing that moment of finding and being found, that fresh, uncomplicated joy.

Practicing resurrection.

Because whether we’re looking or not, whether we’re ready or not, resurrection finds us.

And sends us out to share that joy with all God’s world.

Mary and Mary weren’t looking that first Easter. And resurrection found them. Christ appears in their path, eager to be found, calling out, “Rejoice!” and claiming their ordinary, busy lives for that insistent moment of discovery and delight.

The rest of the disciples weren’t looking, either. We last saw them scattered, defeated, and afraid. And resurrection calls out to them to be found. With one word to Mary and Mary, the risen Christ reclaims them – and us – for the family of God.

The good news of Easter is that God cannot wait to be found, and always finds us.

That over and over we are called to that moment of fresh discovery, of love overflowing the rules and changing the game.

We don’t have to be ready.  Most of the time, in fact, we’re not.

All we have to do is be open.

To let God’s own delight fill us and surround us, to find and be found, over and over and over again, by eager, insistent, living Love.

Because God, like Sadie, rejoices in the wonder of finding and being found.

Sometimes as simple as “Good morning,” sometimes as brilliantly as lightning, as shocking as the news that death is not death, the rules are changed, and the grave is empty,

in the midst of our ordinary days, resurrection finds us.

Finds us, and sends us out to share that healing, shining, holy joy,

of finding and being found by love.

So, ready or not:

Rejoice!