Luke 24:1-12 Ode to Perplexity

Georges Braque, "Violin and Pallette," 1909

Observation: This was the Gospel text for Easter Sunday, so I've been looking at it a lot, but the word I see today that jumps out is: "Perplexed." The women, finding Jesus' tomb empty, are "perplexed."  Which might be the understatement of the millennium. Mark's gospel uses the word, "terrified." That sounds a little more similar to how these women would respond to this news, that just as Jesus said, he has risen from the grave, and death's hold on humankind has been broken. This isn't just "good news" to be greeted with a smile and a sigh of relief...at first, it is utterly shocking. 

Application: At Easter dinner at my sister-in-law's house, my ten-year-old daughter suggested we go around the table, like at Thanksgiving, and each say something we're thankful for. I said, "no, this is Easter. We should go around the table and each recount an utterly bewildering experience that made us question everything and took us years to process." Luckily we didn't do that. 

If our initial response to Jesus' resurrection is joy, then it hasn't really sunk in for us. Yes, Jesus' followers eventually rejoiced, but it took a whole lot of hard spiritual and theological work to get there. At first, there was perplexity, and lots of it. First century people may not have known all we know today, but they were well aware of how death usually works: probably more so than modern people, because they dealt with it in a more hands-on way. They knew what a dead person looked like. What they felt like. What they smelled like. To hear from angels that a man you buried is alive might eventually be a good thing, but at first, it's shocking. There's a reason why Jesus, when first appearing to his disciples, says "Peace be with you" several times.

The traditional art of Easter in the West seems to be glorious baroque paintings. Maybe it should be cubism. We often greet Easter with joyful, harmonious chorales. Maybe a better choice is jarring, avant-garde jazz. The resurrection is perplexing. It can't be domesticated. It's wild, and divine, and not readily understandable using our prior experiences, no matter what they are. If all we feel at Easter is happiness, I can't help wondering if we just hung around in the pretty garden, admiring the dew on the roses. Because if we had really poked our heads inside that tomb, we would have questions, and lots of them. 

Prayer: God, I say this in all reverence...what on earth is going on here? Help me really experience it as the women did, in all its perplexity. Help me resist the urge to make it more like the "happy endings" I know, and more like the truly new thing you began and continue in Jesus Christ. Amen.