Shelby Olive

Matthew 28:1-10

After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. 2 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. 3 His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. 4 For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. 5 But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. 6 He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. 7 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.” 8 So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. 9 Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. 10 Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

Reflection:

Can we just take a moment to giggle at this scene, one where grown men are fainting and two women become the first proclaimers of the Gospel? A strange sight indeed! Of course, we know that this isn’t meant to be a comical moment; it’s one of the most important moments in the entire Christian narrative. The future of the gospel is in the hands of two women, who, instead of going into hiding like the disciples, show up to the grave where their Rabbi ought to have been and instead find themselves at this critical juncture. What should have been a routine burial check-in became a launchpad for everything that was to come.

So what do they do? They run to tell the disciples. They run. That’s right. Before they even see Jesus for themselves, before they even have the “proof” of a resurrected body, they go. As far as they were concerned, they had all the proof they needed. An angel. An empty tomb. And no guards to stand in their way.

Hope is funny like that, always waiting to be resurrected. At the slightest inkling of a miracle, hope is ready to run with it. This critical juncture of our faith is a story about a resurrected body, yes, but what we are seeing come alive within these women is a hope that was tried, tortured, destroyed, and buried; we are seeing it come alive again through Christ in an instant. More than that, this strange scene shows us that Christ has come alive as well as  but we are seeing the response that all of creation was intended to have at the sight of the resurrection. Hope doesn’t die. It is always awaiting resurrection. 

God is the reignitor, the resurrector of hope. It’s not out of our labor that hope is kept alive. Remember, the hope that spurred these women to run to tell the disciples the good news was not born of their own effort. A resurrected hope was given to them through the word of an angel and an empty tomb. This same resurrected hope is a grace of God, that somewhere somehow we hear words that change everything, “He’s not here. He is risen.” And without even realizing, we’ve run with it. May the hope in you that was crucified and buried may be raised, and may you take it and run with it.

Prayer:
Dear God,
You are the reignitor and resurrector of my hope when it feels like all hope is lost. I pray today that you help me recognize hope when it’s staring at me in the face, and then, oh God, I pray that I may run to it. Amen.