Practice Resurrection (because the story continues)

Image Credit: Resurrection (crop) from the Isenheim Altar by Matthias Grünewald. 
Source: Wikipedia

The Resurrection of the Lord, Year A
5 April 2026

Acts 10:34-43
Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24
Colossians 3:1-4
Matthew 28:1-10

The world in which I grew up seems forever gone. That, of course, is a truism that would be true no matter the year or place. It was true when I answered a survey last week and saw that my age bracket had changed yet again. And that tells me that not only the world around me has changed but that I have as well.
But the statement that the world in which I was raised is gone is also true in another sense, perhaps the one you first thought of. For the last number of weeks and months I have been getting up in the morning wondering what may have happened in the world while I was asleep. There is a certain dread associated with this, for the feeling with which I turn to the news is one of a loss of control. It is not that I had control over the world before, the world just seemed more stable and predictable.

Being at worship has always brought me comfort, it has always been a refuge. This is because in worship we are grounded in God and thus kept us from despairing in the face of those realities that make me wonder what happened in the world while I was asleep. This is important, for I cannot live in constant dread. If I did, I would be no good to anyone, not to God, my family, my church, or even myself. And so, coming to church to worship shields me from despair and more importantly it grounds me in a different reality.
And that grounding in a different reality is the other way to understand our finding comfort in the God who called us into being and ‘whose love moves the sun and the other stars’. Worship then is not an evasion of reality but the entering into the only reality that matters.

The evangelist Matthew tells us about Mary Magdalene and the other Mary going early to the grave on Easter morning, though they do not yet know that it is Easter. Therefore they do not come with Easter joy but their hearts are weighed down by grief. However, they come with love. It is love that gives them the strength to come to the tomb of Jesus, executed as an enemy of the state. I imagine that they come to the grave to reminisce, to pray, to make room for Jesus even as he was taken from them, and it is love that propels them to, much the same as love propels us to do these things for our loved ones who are gone too soon, too soon even if they have lived a long life.

When the women come to the grave they do not yet know that the grave is empty, that they would not find Jesus, rather that Jesus would find them, and they do not yet know that Jesus had risen.
We remember the words we just heard. An angel of the Lord descended from heaven, his appearance was like lightening and his clothing white as snow. This messenger from God rolled away the stone and sat on it, as if waiting for the disciples to appear, and as all four Gospels tell us, it is the women who come first. The angel tells them not to be afraid, an exhortation that is useful to me these days, and it is another reason I need to be here on Sundays, to be reminded not to be afraid, not as a command but as an assurance, as a parent may say to a child not to be afraid. The child’s fear my subside not because it knows what may or may not happen but because of its trust in the parent.
And then the angel tells them that Jesus has been raised from the dead. The angel sends them to Galilee where they will see Jesus. And as they turn to go to Galilee where it all began, Jesus meets them, they worship him, and he tells them to tell his brothers and sisters to go to Galilee where they will see him.

The women had come to the grave expecting evil to have triumphed. They expected to remember Jesus but not to see Jesus. Instead they find the grave empty and Jesus tells them that it is not over. The story continues. We cannot put enough weight on this, especially as we are living into a time unlike most of us can remember.
That the story continues implies that Jesus has forgiven his disciples for their abandonment and denial. He affectionately calls them brothers.
That the story continues also implies that in the resurrection of Jesus we are entrusted with a mission, for Galilee is where it all began, where Jesus had first called his disciples. And that means that the resurrection is not only our comfort but also our calling.

I began by telling you about the fear and trepidation I experience when I wonder about what may have happened in the world while I was asleep. I know that this is not a helpful focus, for what may have happened while I was a sleep may not be something I can do anything about, which is why feel a loss of control, even though I never did or ever will control geopolitics.

Jackie and I have a plot in an allotment garden near our house. Saturday a week ago was the annual seed fare for the coming season, called Seedy Saturday. Like all community events it is also a time when people meet and the community connects. We bumped into our friend Sharon MacGougan from the Garden City Conservation Society who told me about Miyawaki Forest #10 and #11 which will be planted this spring.

Miyawaki Forests are named after Japanese botanist Akira Miyawaki who developed these forests for small spaces. The oldest Miyawaki forest was planted 40 years ago in Yokohama. A minimum of 30 native species of trees and shrubs of varying heights are planted close together, about three per square metre in a site as small as 9 m². Miyawaki forests can grow up ten times faster than monoculture forests, are much denser, and house much more biodiversity. Since they’re quick to establish, maintenance-free after the first two-to-three years, and do not require a large footprint, Miyawaki forests are viable solutions for cities looking to rapidly build climate resilience.¹

Learning about the next two forests to be planted filled me with joy and hope. It is not unlike Luther’s Apple Tree: “Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.”

Wendell Berry’s poem, Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front questions the industrial world we have built. It ends with these lines,
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn’t go.

Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.²

Practice Resurrection.
Like Jesus’ invitation to the disciples to come to Galilee where it all began, to continue to live into the reign of God, to continue to follow Jesus with their whole lives, to continue to live for God and for others, for God to be the ground of their being no matter the circumstances, so the Mad Farmer, as if echoing Jesus, ends his poem with the call to practice resurrection.

Practising resurrection means not to give up (because we live in Christ) but to practise the things that are doable in our lives and our communities, like planting a Myawaki Forest, like making time to talk with your neighbour, or volunteering at the shelter, or sharing your resources with those who need your abundance, practising the love of our enemy, or writing a letter to our local representative, and in all those things embodying the reign of God, that is to practise resurrection.
That is what Christ’s resurrection made possible. That is Easter. We are a resurrection people.

Christ is risen.
He is risen indeed. Alleluia.