Rev. Dr. Brandon Perrine
Easter A
Matthew 28:1-10
April 5, 2026
After the Sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. And suddenly there was a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning and his clothing white as snow. For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’ This is my message for you.” So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers and sisters to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”
~o~
A Sunday school teacher was working with her elementary class. The topic for the day: Easter Sunday and the resurrection of Christ. “What did Jesus do on this day?” she asked. There was no response, so she gave her students a hint: “It starts with the letter R.” One boy blurted, “Recycle!” When it comes to Easter, resurrection is the hinge upon which the whole story swings…not recycling! And yet, if we’re honest, we sometimes misunderstand resurrection in ways that aren’t all that different— reducing it, simplifying it, trying to make it manageable.
According to Matthew’s gospel, the two Marys went out to visit the tomb early on Sunday morning. Suddenly, an earthquake shook the ground upon which they walked, the tomb’s stone rolled away, and an angel descended. The guards froze in place with fear and the women remain wordless through the whole story. The angel tells them to look inside the tomb and see that Jesus has been raised from the dead and is on his way to Galilee. Instead, the women left the tomb quickly, both fear and joy overtaking them. When Jesus himself appeared in their path, they fell to the ground, took hold of his feet, and worshipped. He told them, “Don’t be afraid; go tell my friends where I’m going; they will see me there.” What a story. And this is just one version of it.
Matthew tells it this way—the only one to include an earthquake, guards, and an angel atop the stone; the only version where just two Marys go to the tomb; the only version where no one actually enters the tomb to verify that it is indeed empty; the only version where Jesus appears to both Mary Magdalene and the other Mary. But Mark and Luke and John tell it differently. Different details. Different people. Different moments of recognition. But why?
More than three decades before these stories were written down, Jesus’ followers experienced something far more profound than an empty tomb. An empty tomb itself is incapable of producing faith.1 It raises questions and invites speculation—the body could have been stolen, or misplaced, or never even buried—but on its own, an empty tomb doesn’t lead people to risk their lives proclaiming good news.
They encountered him—not as a memory, not as a metaphor, but as a living presence. Some of them saw him. Some of them heard him. Some of them felt his presence with them in ways they could not deny. They continued to experience divine empowerment through Jesus, and it spread outward from their homes in Galilee across time and space after his execution.2 Their experience of the Kingdom of God was strengthened rather than weakened by Jesus’ death—that is the heart of Easter faith.3 However it happened, they came to a shared conviction: he was not gone. He was very much alive—in them and in the world. The empty tomb did not produce that faith—the living Christ Spirit did that. And continues to do that.
The same spirit that saw faith in the teachings of Jesus reach from the Galilean backwaters all the way to the ruler of the empire that had him executed—to the very gates of Rome itself—is still at work in the world confronting the powers of destruction, oppression, and violence. The same spirit that emboldened ordinary fishers, tax collectors, merchants, and beggars, is still at work in the world empowering and emboldening ordinary people to do extraordinary things. The same spirit that embodied unconditional love of self, and neighbor, and the divine, is still at work in the world reminding us that we are unconditionally loved and sent forth to love others unconditionally.
Decades before Matthew ever wrote their story, resurrection happened. The Christ Spirit was unleashed on the world. And nothing would ever be the same again.
Matthew’s story, and those of Mark, Luke, and John, are not themselves Easter. The empty tomb is not, by itself, Easter. Even the angel’s announcement that, “he is not here, for he has been raised,” is not the whole of Easter. At most, they are signs pointing beyond themselves. Easter—the heart of it all—is the living Christ Spirit in you and in me and in our world. Not just what happened then, but what continues to happen now.
However, we understand the details—whether the tomb was empty in precisely this way or that; whether Jesus was raised in a physical body or in spirit; or who saw him first and shared the good news—however we understand the details, the point of Easter is that the life of Jesus couldn’t be extinguished. The love he embodied couldn’t be buried. The movement he began couldn’t be stopped.
And here’s the good news of Easter: that same life, that same love, that same spirit is with us—and within us—still. It’s with us in our grief, in our doubt, in our weariness, and in our wondering if any of this really matters. It’s with us when we dare to love anyway, when we choose courage over fear, and when we stand up for what’s right.
The first followers of Jesus’ went to the tomb, expecting to find an ending. Instead, they found a new beginning. And we gather this morning, not just to remember that moment, but to trust that it is still unfolding.
For Christ is risen.
Christ is risen indeed.
Christ is risen!
Christ is risen indeed!
Alleluia and Amen.
1 Bart Ehrman. How Jesus Became God, New York: Harper One, 2014, page 184. What changed everything was this: his followers continued to experience Jesus after his death.
2 John Dominic. Jesus: A Revolutionary Biography, New York: Harper Collins, 1994, page 161.
3 Ibid., 161.
