This Easter, I am struck by the whirlwind the women experienced when they found the tomb empty. I’ve felt my gut sink and drop through my body before. There have been unexpected discoveries that have done this. There have been other times when I received news of something inevitable. It seems, by the way that Luke recounts this morning, that they had not recalled Jesus telling them he would rise on the third day. Instead, there was a moment when they saw the stone was moved. Jesus’ crucifixion was still seared and fresh in their eyes. The sounds of the gurgling blood as he struggled to breathe in their ears. The barrenness of that hill beneath the cross foreshadowed their broken hearts and spirits.

Now the stone was moved, and when they peered within the tomb, it got worse. The body of Jesus was gone. Loss after loss must have further darkened the faint light of that early morning. They had believed Jesus when He said that He was the Light of the world. A world that was getting darker by the day.

Then, two men appeared clothed in what looked like lightening, standing before them. Brilliant and bright light tore through the garden. “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”

“He is not here. He has risen!”

From the darkness and depths of gut-sucking despair, light flooded into their world.
Alleluia! Christ has risen! They had now remembered what Jesus had said and had now come to pass.
Alleluia, alleluia! The eternal light arose that Easter morning to shine upon all of creation until the end of time.
Alleluia, alleluia! A light that no darkness can overcome. A love that no hatred or evil can hinder.
Alleluia, alleluia!

Christ has died.
Christ has risen.
Christ will come again.