When The Dew Is Still On The Roses

A Rose In The Garden Tomb, Jerusalem

The morning after Easter we hear the most amazing story: “About daybreak on the first day of the week, when the sabbath was over, Mary of Magdala and the other Mary came to look at the grave.” This is the beginning of an earthshaking story. The world will never be the same. The mystery of it all takes our breath away.

Suddenly there was a violent earthquake; an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled away the stone, and sat down on it. His face shone like lightning; his garments were white as snow. At the sight of him the guards shook with fear and fell to the ground as though dead.

Everything shakes down to its roots, the earth itself, those standing by, each of us as we hear the story again. Nothing will ever be the same again.

The angel spoke to the women. . . . I know you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; he has been raised, as he said he would be. Come and see the place where he was laid, and then go quickly and tell his disciples. . . . That is what I came to tell you.’

Take a good look. Then go quickly to share the news for all the world to hear.     

They hurried away from the tomb in awe and great joy, and ran to bring the news to the disciples. Suddenly Jesus was there in their path, greeting them. They came up and clasped his feet, kneeling before him. ‘Do not be afraid,’ Jesus said to them. . . .  

Why do both the angel and Jesus mention fear? Well, surely it’s because everything has changed? Because a new creation has now begun. Because now we must learn a new ways of being human. Be filled with awe and joy, Jesus encourages the women, not with fear.   

One hates to disturb this extraordinary scene, but amazingly, predictably, skepticism sets in. Some of the players need to manage the narrative. Things are a little out of control. As usual there is money involved.

While the women were on their way, some of the guard went into the city and reported to the chief priests everything that had happened. After meeting and conferring with the elders, the chief priests offered the soldiers a substantial bribe and told them to say, ‘His disciples came during the night and stole the body while we were asleep.’ They added, ‘If this should reach the governor’s ears, we will put matters right with him and see you do not suffer.’ So they took the money and did as they were told. Their story became widely known, and is current in Jewish circles to this day. Matthew 28:1-15

Such scheming. Such need to manipulate the narrative. Such need for power. Such fear of mystery. Well, we heard just these voices in our own news all through the week of Easter. Sometimes subtle cynicism, but most all the need to flatten the narrative, to suck out all the mystery of our marvelous story. We were scolded not to let Easter feed our insatiable need for power. We were told there are too many faces of Jesus to find anything real.

Over the Easter weekend, I also discovered another of R. S. Thomas’s poems. Here he imagines, in the stories of the Nativity and the Resurrection, that

five hundred poets waited, pen

poised above paper,

for the poem to arrive,

bells ringing.

But, says Thomas,

because they had ceased

to believe, the poem passed them

by on its way out into oblivion.

My anxious heart ponders whether this great story of resurrection will pass us by too? Will we allow the voices of our day to flatten the narrative. Too much mystery here to handle, we are told. But wait, the women at the tomb suspect, there is a whole new creation opening up. There is now a whole new way of being human. Let us go, carrying with us this awe and joy, to tell the story to the world.

And so we pray on this after-Easter morning, Lord, don’t let our deflating skepticism, our dull cynicism, have the final say. Give us courage and give us vision to step into the mystery of the new world you are creating. Give us new language to tell the old, old story as it happens again this day. Let our pens and our voices be ready to sing again and again: “Christ the Lord is risen today, Alleluia!” We can’t afford to let that song pass us by.