Easter Day
April 20, 2025
John 20:1-18

Earlier this year, I turned the ripe old age of forty. Mid-life is coming at me fast. With all that entails – increased doctors’ visits, aches and pains, additional health screenings. It’s great. Our church staff here at Trinity – always friendly – decorated my office for this grand occasion; with black balloons, black streamers. And they put these big banners in my office about what life was like in 1985 – you know, the good old days – when a gallon of gas was a dollar and a movie ticket was two seventy-five. Those good old days, when you didn’t have to worry about emails; when friends were people you actually knew, and not bots on Facebook; the good old days, when the evening news came on at five thirty, and then turned off. Imagine that.

But other than the incessant communication and the higher prices, we sense something else. I hear it from you. That we, as a people, are not as kind as we used to be, we’re less courteous; modern life is harsher than what it used to be. As I turn forty, in this faster, more expensive, harder world; with mid-life coming at me fast, I suppose there is part of me that wishes for that simpler time. There is a part of me that longs for the past.

As Mary Magdalene longs for the past. She’s not ready to face a future without Jesus. That’s why she shows up at the tomb; she is there to grieve, to mourn, to remember Jesus. She remembers his grace and his kindness and his love. But no more. He was betrayed, tortured, executed. She wakes up that first Easter morning, and she must feel much older. Life is coming at her fast.

Standing there, at the tomb, Jesus speaks to Mary, though she doesn’t know it’s him. “Woman, why are you weeping?” Mary says to him, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” Mary goes on, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” She is still captive to the past, she wants care for his final remains. 

And it’s that moment when all is revealed to her. Jesus speaks her name, “Mary!” And suddenly she realizes that he is not dead, but risen. The past is still there – painful as ever. Jesus certainly died on the cross. He’s got the scars to prove it. None of that has changed. But the past is not the final answer.

Feelings of nostalgia, and sentimentality, are not necessarily wrong; some of the old times were good times. But, we cannot live in them. With every passing birthday, with every passing life, we move ever onwards. Life is like a conveyor belt – it just never stops. Even if you think that life was better in – name your preferred year – you cannot go backwards, you cannot live in the past. 

Because in Christ, on Easter, we hold with firm confidence that there is an even better future. That we, too, will be raised from our graves. We are not beholden to the past. And in fact, there is better yet to come. God has prepared for us a glorious future.

And suddenly, the whole perspective changes. Sure, mid-life is coming at me fast. No joke, I’ve had to buy house shoes with arch supports to help my hurting back. My doctor has tweaked my prescriptions. My eyesight keeps getting worse; and still, the world is getting more expensive, more chaotic, faster. Certainly, in my fortieth year I have lost much of what my life had been. 

But I think of how much I have gained. I would not trade this place in my life for any time in the past. Forty years old. I’ve picked up pickleball; I enjoy birding, and now I’ve started gardening. Talk about middle age. But that is what I have learned. Years ago, I would never have imagined doing those things. Now, they give me great joy. God is always doing something new.

Because maybe, just maybe, the past wasn’t all that good anyway. And more importantly, in Christ, you have a future. This is what I hope you take away today. I am sure that there are parts of your past life that you remember fondly. I am sure there were things in life back then that you think were better. That is okay. Treasure them. But do not try to recreate them. You will only be disappointed. And I don’t know what tomb you are in right now – shackled by loneliness, by addiction, by greed; by worry about your health; by concern for your kids; by economic anxiety. All those feelings can be real. But at the same time, it doesn’t have to be that way. The Lord God is calling you ahead, calling you out of your past tombs and into a new life. On Easter morning, with Mary, we see a glimpse of our future. And it is filled with life and light and love. In Christ, you do have a future.

And if you wish things to be better, then you be better. Live into the love and the hope that is revealed on this Easter morning. If you are disturbed by how toxic the internet is, then stop feeding your heart and soul on the internet. If you are disappointed in how rude people are, then you need to be even nicer. That is our duty, our call as people who have seen the other side. We won’t get there by going backwards. We will only achieve that vision, the Kingdom of God, by boldly claiming that the future belongs to Christ. That is our call as Christians; we are not afraid of tomorrow because we know what tomorrow holds – life and love in Jesus.

And that’s how the story at the empty tomb ends. Jesus tells Mary to “go.” Jesus sends Mary back to the other disciples, to tell them that he is risen. As he now sends you – to go back out there and to embody this message of hope, and peace, and love. It will not be easy work. The darkness of this world will want to win you over. The powers of the world will be tempting you, to go back to a time that actually never was. But powers of sin and death couldn’t defeat Jesus; so don’t let the powers of fear and nostalgia defeat you. Tomorrow can be holier and lovelier than today. So go faithfully into the future, and there you will find Jesus.