Happy Easter

A sermon on the resurrection account found in Luke 24:1-12

Happy Easter!

The passage from today’s devotional is from the sermon I gave at our Easter Service. I thought I’d post the manuscript for today’s devotional sharing

From Luke 24:1–12 ESV

1 But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they went to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared. 2 And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3 but when they went in they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. 4 While they were perplexed about this, behold, two men stood by them in dazzling apparel. 5 And as they were frightened and bowed their faces to the ground, the men said to them, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? 6 He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, 7 that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified and on the third day rise.” 8 And they remembered his words, 9 and returning from the tomb they told all these things to the eleven and to all the rest. 10 Now it was Mary Magdalene and Joanna and Mary the mother of James and the other women with them who told these things to the apostles, 11 but these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. 12 But Peter rose and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; and he went home marveling at what had happened.

In this passage, we see women at the grave of a loved one, three days after his funeral.

If you’ve ever been at a funeral or a gravesite, the scene is familiar; faces are bowed to the ground. The women came with spices to give a proper burial.

We don’t do that (embalm) of course, but we come with flowers, a bucket of water, and an old rag so we can wipe away the dirt from the tombstone. The more thoughtful ones might even bring some gardening shears to cut the grass that’s creeping over on the tombstone. And then we put a fresh set of flowers on the grave.

And when we’re done, we stand up. We look down, and then we look up and around us to see if there is anyone who is grieving like us.

There’s not much you can say to anyone standing in a cemetery three days after a funeral. Can you imagine someone saying, “Hey, it’s Black Friday and everything at Best Buy is 50% off”? Or, “Hey, the Dodgers won”? It doesn’t matter how good that news is because any good news is an idle tale. It’s not worth much. Who cares? Just leave them alone and let them tune into the silence so that they can remember who they once had.

In our passage, even good news of great joy—like “Jesus is alive”—was an idle tale to the disciples. The disciples almost missed the first Easter because they couldn’t believe the women. And you can’t blame them, because nothing stings more than death. All we can do is cope.

…

How do you cope with death? Or the reality of death? How does the world cope with the fact that one day we will be six feet underground or thrown into a furnace and scattered on the Potomac River somewhere?

First, we don’t think about it. And thank God for technology, because there’s so much content out there to feast our eyes on (of course I’m being sarcastic). But how long are you on your phone before you read about another plane crash or a school shooting? It’s hard to avoid death in our highly connected digital world.

And so, second, we cope with death by turning the frown of death upside down. Funerals aren’t funerals anymore—they’re “celebrations of life” parties. You don’t wear black but something fun. Emphasize the FUN in funeral to make everyone feel good. And then we say that death is just the end and there’s nothing else after that (as if that’s comforting). But we don’t say that at funerals because that’s too mean.

So in the spirit of being nice, we’re able to muster up some belief that so-and-so is in a better place. And coping like this will get us through the day and perhaps even through a funeral. But these things don’t help us in our search for finding home. Home—like we saw in the video.

…

But in the passage, in this cemetery two thousand years ago, something amazing happened, we’re told. Eyewitnesses tell us through Luke’s gospel that two men in dazzling white show up. And they asked, “Why do you seek the living among the dead?”

Now, that’s kind of a strange question. Because to be fair, the women weren’t really looking for someone who was living. They weren’t searching for a person who had gotten lost or wandered off. They brought burial spices. They weren’t expecting Jesus to be alive—they were expecting a corpse.

“Why do you seek the living among the dead?”

The angels aren’t rebuking them. They’re not shaking their heads like, “Come on, ladies.” This isn’t a scolding. It’s more like… a revelation.

He’s not here. He’s risen.

That’s not a metaphor. That’s not a poetic way of saying “his legacy lives on.” This isn’t wishful thinking or “he’ll always live in our hearts.” No—he actually, physically, historically—rose.

And because of that, your search for where you find life needs to change. You don’t find the living among the dead. Living things don’t stay in tombs.

So ladies—the ladies in our passage, that is—why are you here?

And that question—though it was asked to the women two thousand years ago—it kind of echoes today, doesn’t it?

“Why do you seek the living among the dead?”

It’s a good question—not just for the women. It’s a good question for all of us. Because we may not go to tombs. But we spend most of our lives looking for life in places that are, honestly… pretty dead.

We chase after dreams. We build résumés. We collect experiences—sunsets, concerts, vacations. We snap selfies in beautiful places, hoping to feel something real. We pursue relationships, career goals, personal goals, bucket list goals.

And it’s not that those things are bad. They’re just… not alive. Because they won’t last. They don’t follow you into the grave. And when your time’s up—no matter how successful, how happy, how well-loved—you still end up in the ground like everyone else.

Like a Christmas tree, all these things have the semblance of life. They’re good to look at, touch, feel, and smell. But the Christmas tree is dead because it’s cut from its root, and it’s just a matter of time before the things we pursue just shrivel up.

And they’re not going to do anything spiritually for you either. Because you’re like a Christmas tree too—cut off from the source of life, removed from your true spiritual home, and walking around looking for life in all the wrong places.

And I think the world is starting to see that…

That a life without God—without something greater, deeper, eternal—isn’t just hard. It’s… unlivable.

Justin Brierley is a writer and podcaster who’s been watching this unfold. He says there’s a surprising rebirth of belief in God happening right now. That after the rise and fall of New Atheism—the Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens era—people are realizing something:

Atheism didn’t deliver.

It mocked faith. It said religion was harmful, irrational, outdated. But when all the shouting died down, it didn’t answer the questions that actually matter.

Questions like:

Who am I?

Why am I here?

What’s the point of all this?

And now?

Secular thinkers—Jordan Peterson, Tom Holland (not Spider-Man but the historian)—they’re talking about the importance of the Christian worldview in modern life.

Why?

Because it gives a framework for meaning. It’s got intellectual weight. It answers the longing for transcendence—something more, something true, something eternal.

Even Ayaan Hirsi Ali—one of the most prominent critics of religion, a friend of Richard Dawkins—converted to Christianity. Not for political reasons, but because therapy and secularism couldn’t pull her out of the darkness. She said she was spiritually bankrupt.

Her life is an example that you can have a humanitarian cause to fight for but still be bankrupt spiritually. Because you can have everything. You can be educated, influential, wealthy, admired. You can check every box. But without God, you’re empty.

That’s what I concluded when I was a junior in college. I had everything that a college student could want, but I was bankrupt spiritually.

And thinkers like Justin Brierley are starting to see that in society. Critical thinkers. Artists. Philosophers. Podcasters. They’re waking up to the fact that we need foundations. We need a story that tells us who we are, why we exist, where we’re going.

And God provides that.

Not just through vague spirituality, but through a real narrative. A historical one.

And I wonder if those who are feeling this would agree with the idea that they are in need of a home. A spiritual home where they can find rest for their souls and assurance that beyond the grave is not the end, but a door to a destination. Because any meaning and explanation for life would have to include an eternal purpose and place.

And I imagine that God would respond by saying this.

John 14:1–3

1 “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. 2 In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? 3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.

God promises a home that the world cannot provide. It’s a home with many rooms, a home that is eternal because He is the one preparing it. The Bible says we will have a home.

If we all took out a sheet of paper and described the perfect home, I think we would all land on the same things. There would be loved ones. There would be peace, joy, security, meaning, and purpose. And there would be Jesus.

The most awesome person—the one who loves you unconditionally, who knows you, and who has the power to make things new every day for all eternity—is there. Because Jesus said, “I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.”

Now, come to think of it, I wonder if our desire for home isn’t really a desire for Jesus.

C.S. Lewis once said:

If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing.

And I don’t dare correct C.S. Lewis. But maybe he’d agree with this: that longing you felt when you stood in the most beautiful place you’ve ever been—that yearning when a song moved you in a way you can’t explain—that moment when you read the Bible and tears welled up for no reason you can name—those moments weren’t about a place or a feeling.

They were about a person.

They were about Jesus.

It was a longing for Him.

St. Augustine once said, “You have made us for Yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in You.”

Easter opens up a new reality—home, forever and ever and ever—with Jesus, the one our hearts have been longing for all along. And the opening up of that reality can change our lives, just as it did for the women in the Easter story.

So why do you look for the living among the dead?

We should take our cue from the women in the passage. The women experienced the newness of life.

Luke 24:8–9

Their lives changed.

They had a mission—to tell the apostles, and of course, anyone else who would listen. They probably spent the rest of their lives telling others about Jesus.

The apostle Paul says that because of the resurrection, we have the newness of life.

Romans 6:3–4

3 Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? 4 We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.

The newness of life means stopping the pursuit of all the dead things. It means leaving the tomb and talking about life—and how others can find it through Jesus.

The newness of life doesn’t mean that your life will suddenly get better. Your student debt is still there. You still have to go to work and fight through traffic. You still struggle with your sins.

But you’re not alone anymore. You’re united with Christ.

Living the Easter message means discovering what that truly means. It means realizing that the very power of the resurrection is accessible to you because the resurrected Jesus lives in you.

And though life might be hard, you will not crumble. You may stumble and fumble. You might even fall—and fall really hard.

But one thing the resurrected Jesus knows how to do is rise. He knows how to get up after He has fallen.

Proverbs 24:16

16 for the righteous falls seven times and rises again, but the wicked stumble in times of calamity.

And the Apostle Paul adds

2 Corinthians 4:7–12

7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. 8 We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; 9 persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; 10 always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. 11 For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. 12 So death is at work in us, but life in you.

2 Corinthians 4:16–18

16 So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. 17 For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, 18 as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

So let me ask you:

Why do you seek the living among the dead?

Easter offers a home and a newness of life

So take it

Because He is not here.

He has risen.

And because of that… you will rise too.