Easter Hands

An Easter sermon on Psalm 19 and Luke 24:1-12

Psalm 19:1-4a & Luke 24:1-12

The women who loved Jesus were still grieving as they approached the tomb. The cultural norms were such that they needed to finish whatever work they had not been able to complete the day that Jesus died, because he died on the Sabbath. They were limited by the day and the hour to only do the bare minimum. A local man that had not participated in the trial to condemn Jesus, found a suitable rock hewn grave and expensive linen shroud that was wrapped around his body with his wrists tied and his face covered in a special cloth. He would ensure his eyes were closed first as his hands tenderly ensured that Jesus’ body was properly cared for in only the way that the Hebrew people knew to do. His eyes closed and his body ready for the grave he was laid in the tomb. When the women saw Jesus’ body laid in this way they left to prepare and make the spices and ointments.

This activity was one that if time allowed should have been done immediately after death. They were forced to delay. Their preparations would take longer than what daylight was left. They could at least get started and so they did. Using their hands they prepared several different mixtures. Hyssop was an herb used for cleaning and would have been applied first in order to prepare the body for the remaining cleansing and burial rituals. Myrrh used both as an incense and an anointing oil was mixed with Aloes to cover the body. Cinnamon, cassia, and calamus were ingredients in the holy anointing oil that would anoint Jesus’ body. Frankincense and saffron were commonly used in biblical times for various purposes including anointing and as perfume. Since they had been forced to delay they made this also to cover the smell. These spices were considered fragrant and valuable, and their use in burial practices symbolized respect and mourning.

In the Hebrew tradition they would have whitewashed the stone to mark the grave and let passersby know that there was a grave there. In their tradition, touching a dead body or even being near one, would render you ritually unclean. They spent their day making these expensive balms to anoint and cover Jesus’ body with their hands. They would have gone home unclean just by being near him and then become more unclean by administering the ointments. The righteous man who found the grave and wrapped him would also be unclean for the part he played in wrapping the body.

Their sacrifices were immense. The expense of the grave and the linen. The expense of the spices, oils, and perfumes took many hours of work to afford and buy in the first place. This labor done with their hands as there was no work then that would not require their sweat. Yet they took time from those paying tasks to travel to the grave and back and forth in their mourning process. Graves were never close to villages because of the uncleanliness of the body. On the night and day he was crucified they risked being seen by others. And they used their hands to lovingly apply balms so that they could continue to mourn the rest of the month no matter the cost. Social, cultural, religious, and economic sacrifices were spent for the one they loved.

When the women were met by the empty grave it would have been jarring to say the least. They had spent a full day and night in bitter grief only comforted by the fact that he had been laid somewhere safe. A place protected so that they could finish the burial process. But he was gone. They probably stood there open mouthed, not sure what to do. Clasping their hands nervously and tightening their grips on the spices they held. It is unclear how long they had to wait for the heavenly message. The messengers give what may be like our office emails are signed ‘sincerely’ as their tone. ‘Don’t you remember’?

Without them we would be left without a story. They are the first witnesses. Witnesses that are credible. The first to believe. The first to proclaim. They run off to tell the men and are met with incredulity. Only Peter goes to see for himself. He sees the empty grave and the discarded linens. He remembers the women’s account of what they saw. He is filled with amazement and wonder. This wonder turns to belief. But he doesn’t tell anyone. He goes home in silent reverence. If he spoke it may just be a dream or he may have been so overwhelmed with awe that he just didn’t have the words.

This week was long. Any week working in the schools before a school break is long and hard. Everyone is ready for the break. No one is silent or reverent there. Kids running around with a future weeks’ worth of pent-up energy spilling out. I decided not to fight it too much. A simple short lesson followed by some fun freeze dance videos and some free drawing would keep everyone happy and occupied. And I still got in a mini lesson.

A student asked for another piece of paper and said, “I have something for you”. I am used to getting a cute whatever the season is picture. A Christmas tree, a snowflake, a heart, a bunny, lots of bunnies right now on my desk. But he came right up and placed it in my hand. It was not a cute bunny. It was a picture that put me into an immediate state of awe and wonder. I told him it was very special, and he smiled and sat down with his new paper to draw that cute bunny or something.

It was a simple but profound drawing of the empty grave. Done with small 2nd grade hands. It had a jagged opening, an egg-shaped stone neatly rolled to the side. A grassy ground then in the middle of the jagged opening was the cross. The cross was neatly drawn with squared off lines and shading to make it look 3D and in the darkened space of the grave. Nails were drawn where each hand or foot would have been. Drawn in such a way that they also had a hint of 3D effects.

What astounded me was not that he drew something more accurate than a bunny for why we get this particular week off each school year. It wasn’t that it was well drawn even though it really was a good drawing. It wasn’t due to the fact that the kid who drew it doesn’t particularly strike me as a very angelic second grader. He doesn’t really make the best choices sometimes, but he also never really makes horrible choices. He is a typical second grade boy.

What stood out was more about the meaning and that a second grade kid got ‘it’. The ‘It’ of the season. The meaning of holy week and Lent and Easter all rolled into one drawing. Simple but to the point. Jesus is not on the cross. He is not in the tomb. He isn’t in the discarded remnants of an expensive shroud. He isn’t and yet, He is. He is risen and he ascended and sent His holy Spirit to us, and so, He is now everywhere. He is in you. In me. In that second grader. In our neighbors. In our enemies. In every country. In every time. In every place. He is right there in the drawing for me to see and stare at in awe and wonder.

Like Peter I stood gobsmacked and frozen in the moment. Realizing Jesus was in that tomb and on that cross because he chose to be. He chose death and separation from God. From self. He chose suffering and pain. He gave everything of himself for us. Me. You. And all the others. He chose death so that we would have an empty grave and an empty cross that we remember each year, like clockwork. Counting down from Lent to Easter remembering his ministry each year. Gaining new profound remembrances each year. Remembering again and again that He showed us he loves us so much, that He gave of himself unto death. The ultimate grand gesture to proclaim to the world, to the cosmos, to everyone and everything past, present, and future that we are important. We are enough. We are loved. Come as we are because God loves us all.

“The heavens are telling the glory of God, and the firmament proclaimed his handiwork. Day today, pours fourth speech, and night tonight declares knowledge. There is no speech, nor are their words, their voice is not heard; yet their voice goes out through all the Earth and their words to the end of the world.” (NRSV) We see and remember. The cosmos sees and remembers. The handiwork of God is seen in the stars and planets, in the trees and flowers, in the oceans and the mountains, and in us. The proclamation that we too are part of creation. Part of God’s work that Genesis records as being “very good”.

These first verses of Psalm 19 hold the term yad and it is interpreted as God’s handiwork, God’s glory, and God-Craft. It can also mean to extend. God extending towards creation in love. In the biblical context, God's hand is frequently mentioned as a symbol of God’s power and intervention in human affairs.

In The Manhattan Psalter, The Lectio Divina of Sister Juanita Colon, she interprets the first four verses of Psalm 19.

“The glory of God is blazed across the heavens, Everything shouts his name. Days pass on the glad tidings to one another, nights, take it up and fling it joyously one to the next. Though not a word is uttered, not a sound reaches us, yet the silence of the heavens is thunderous with praise. A jubilant message encircles, the Earth like a golden ring.”

The sound we do not hear is frozen dumbstruck awe that we humans and all of creation have when we see or hear or experience something so profound or glorious that we have no words. Imagine the heavens, the cosmos so amazed it can not help but utter amazement in silent beauty. Much like I feel Peter was walking home. I am sure that his silence was no match for the look upon his face. The women seeing the angels only telling them about Jesus left them in utter belief so clear it was on their faces and in their witness of Jesus’ resurrection. That Peter had to see. To know it for himself. He saw the clothes and knew because the women’s faces and story, held the place where an angel might need to appear.

In Pause Spending Lent with the Psalms, Elizabeth F. Caldwell expresses that “Psalm 19 invites contemporary readers to pause to appreciate God‘s handiwork. - and maybe, just maybe, to do so in silence.” (page. 94) Where are our hands needed most today, in the work of our church, our community, our country, and/or the world? And what can we do that is within our power?

Resources:

Elizabeth F. Caldwell, Pause Spending Lent with the Psalms, Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2023.

Juanita Colon, The Manhattan Psalter, The Lectio Divina of Sister Juanita Colon, Collegeville, Minnesota: Liturgical Press, 2002.