Resurrection Sunday, 21 April Luke 24:1-53
Written by Dr Graham Leo. ©2019.
On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. Why so early? Why only the women? When had they prepared the spices? There is so much here to think about. Where to begin?
The question of the early hour is easily answered, I think. None of them had slept much during the night, and eventually one of them whispered, ‘Are you awake?’ There was a whispered ‘Yes’, from the other women, one by one, as they went to each one’s couch.
When had they prepared the spices? Luke mentioned this in the previous chapter, v56. Despite resting on the Sabbath, the women found time to prepare the necessary embalming spices. What were the men doing?
My guess is they were doing what men always do after a tragedy. They sit in the corner, mulling, moping, not moving, not speaking. Too afraid to let it all out in words, because that would open a floodgate of fears and tears and vulnerabilities. Better to stay quiet. You can't betray yourself then.
Women, on the other hand, at such times, have to get up and do stuff. They’ll start cleaning the house or cooking a meal in the middle of the night when they are grieving. If there’s no-one else who’ll talk to them, they'll talk to themselves, playing it all over again in their minds. Making meaning of it. I don't mean to be sexist here, but I think that Luke has rightly described what actual men and women would do in just such a circumstance.
‘I am a man,’ wrote C. S. Lewis once to a woman in a letter who was, as I recall, suffering grief, ‘and therefore lazy. You are a woman, and therefore most probably a fidget.’ (I hope I’ve recalled this correctly!) Putting aside Lewis’s misogyny, typical of the 1940s, he was probably expressing a generalisation that is often true, especially at times of grief. Men sit and muse, finally exploding in a burst of anger, violence, or self-indulgent action, slamming the door and going outside, or down to the pub. Women do something useful, keeping themselves busy. Keeping the household going regardless.
There’s something deeply human about Luke’s history here. It has the ring of truth about it. But this is not the only place where Luke shows this keen eye for reality.
We don't know who the two people were on the road to Emmaus. One was called Cleopas, a man’s name. Was the other his wife? Another man? We just don't know. John makes the passing comment that one of the women at the cross, during the crucifixion was ‘Mary, the wife of Clopas’ (John 19:25). It’s reasonable to expect that she was also one of the women who went to the tomb that morning.
Perhaps the couple were now walking back to their home in the village? Or perhaps Cleopas has slammed the door and walked out, saying that he’s going home, and another mate joins him, while their wives stay behind and faff around with the fidgety stuff the men can't be bothered with? Perhaps they need to get back to work? At one point, Luke quotes ‘them’ as saying: ‘some of our women amazed us’ (v22). This sounds to me like a very male thing to say.
The most touching, deeply human thing that happened then was that Jesus ‘revealed himself to them in the breaking of the bread’. Oh yes, how real that is! Can't we all identify with that? Isn't that exactly when we’ve come so close to him as well? At the breaking of the bread and the drinking of the wine?
But the most human was Luke’s short reference to a deeply-touching moment. It’s in v34. When the two from Emmaus get back to Jerusalem and meet the others to tell their tale, they hear the report that ‘The Lord has risen and has appeared to Simon’.
To Simon. That is, to Simon whom Jesus called Peter. To the one who had denied Jesus three times shortly after promising not to betray him. To Simon, for whom the morning cockcrow would never sound the same again, as he remembered his Great Betrayal.
Oh the Loving Mercy of the One who appeared to Simon! Out of all the people to whom he could have appeared, he chose Simon Peter. Because Peter needed that personal visit. He needed to throw himself at Jesus’ feet and weep out his grief and his joy. Because his joy at the risen Christ could not be as liberating as it should be until he had wept out his grief and heard the wonderful words of forgiveness from his Master.
Oh, I know Luke doesn't tell us all this, but we can read between the lines, can't we?
It wouldn't be Luke telling this story if he didn't do what he does at vv27 and 44. Beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, Jesus explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself (27).
This is what I told you while I was still with you. Everything must be fulfilled that is written about me in the Law of Moses, and the Prophets, and the Psalms (44).
Luke concludes where he began. Do you remember his insistent theme in the first half-dozen reflections we read at the beginning of Lent? Luke kept telling us that God’s Word was faithful. It could be trusted. The Promises were sure and reliable. And now here at the end, of all the things he could quote from Jesus, he quotes this. The Scriptures – more or less the entire Old Testament – spoke about Jesus. We couldn't see it before he came, but it was there, and it had to be fulfilled. Trust the Scriptures, says Luke. Read the Old Testament, and find Jesus. Crucified and resurrected.
Having read all that Luke has written, how can we doubt the Scriptures? Jesus is there on almost every page of the Old Testament, and we need to ask him to do what he did for the disciples in v45 – he opened their minds, so they could understand the Scriptures.
What he did for them, he will do for us, through the advent of the Holy Spirit. When I go away, John quotes Jesus as saying, I will ask the Father to send you the Spirit of Truth (John 14:16-17) and when he, the Spirit of Truth comes, he will guide you into all truth (John 16:13).
Prayer: Holy Spirit of God, I thank you for the ministry of Truth that you bring. Please grant to me the willingness to devote time to reading the Scriptures, and the capacity to understand them. Thank you that the resurrected God is with me every day, in your holy presence.
Thank you for the painstaking work of your servant Luke. May his words continue to bring many into the place where they will bow their heads, bend their knees, and worship you. Amen.
