Sin Does Not Have The Last Word

The Rev. Sara Warfield

Easter Sermon

Scripture: Luke 24:1-12

I grew up in a denomination that encouraged us Christians to testify, to tell the greatness of God, to bear witness to the power of God moving in our lives. People getting up in front of the congregation and telling stories of cancer that went into remission. Debts unexpectedly forgiven. Rain after a long drought. But also the smaller things: a car problem that proved to be less serious and less expensive than initially thought so the person could continue to get to work and feed her family; a baby’s first steps; someone in the grocery line lending them five bucks when they were just a little short.

God’s power moves in our lives in all sorts of ways. So we testify.

Today’s gospel is also a story of testifying. The empty tomb itself a testimony to God’s victory over death. The two men in dazzling clothes—angels, presumably—testifying to the fact that Jesus keeps his promises. And then the women—Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and more besides—they rush from the tomb to the apostles to testify to Jesus’ resurrection.

But the overwhelming response in this gospel to these testimonies, at least at first, is, well: “these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.” Now we can criticize these women and then the apostles for their disbelief, for their seeming lack of faith, but before we do, let’s back up.

Two days ago, every person in this story witnessed sheer and absolute horror. They watched as their friend, their teacher, a man they loved, first being mocked, then beaten, then betrayed, then forced to carry a heavy cross onto which he was nailed and hung there to die.

All because the Pharisees didn’t like to see their power slipping away. All because the crowds were more thirsty for spectacle and entertainment than they were for justice. All because Pilate, the one person with the power to make that justice happen, didn’t have the political courage to speak out against this whole ordeal that he himself saw and named as a farce. All because Jesus brought truth and peace instead of force and conquering.

That is what the women and the apostles are only two days removed from. Flashbacks of that terrible day are still dancing in their minds. New waves of grief are still washing over them.

The power of sin that they thought Jesus would defeat seems to have won.

Anyone else here know that feeling?

It’s really easy right now to look around and believe that sin will have the last word. That power via cruel and brute force will conquer. That the crowds are more thirsty for destruction than for justice. That the people with the power to make that justice happen don’t have the courage to speak out.

But let us remember what those angels said to the women at the tomb: “Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.”

Sin happens. Destruction happens. Cruelty happens, these angels tell the women. But they do not have the last word.

"Why do you look for the living among the dead?” they ask. “He is not here, but has risen.”

Jesus has the last word. Resurrection has the last word.

But resurrection isn’t where our faith ends. It’s where it begins. Resurrection calls us to testify. To tell the greatness of God. To declare with our lives that sin does not have the last word.

—

In just a little bit, we will be baptizing Chris Neal, to my great joy! Chris has been preparing for this moment. Since January, he has attended catechesis once a week with others in a Trinity Cathedral program. He and I have met a few times in that process. I imagine he’s been praying about and discerning what baptism means for his faith, for his life.

Because baptism is a huge and beautiful and important commitment to one’s faith, to the Body of Christ, and to God that we will make our lives a testimony to God’s greatness, to bear witness to the power of God moving in our lives.

So baptism is a commitment to living in the deep truth of our faith that sin does not and will never have the last word. It is actively and intentionally saying “yes” to a life of resurrection.

So what does that mean? What does that look like?

Well, I think if you look at the rest of this chapter in Luke, you’ll learn how to recognize resurrection: The first time the risen Jesus appears is to two disciples on the road to Emmaus, but they don’t recognize him. Not right away. Not until they sit down at a table to break bread together are they finally able to recognize him.

And then, again, the risen Jesus reveals himself to more of the disciples, even shows them his wounds from the cross, and they recognize him this time—kind of—but still, the scriptures say, “in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering.” Then Jesus asks, “Do you have anything to eat?” And as he eats a bit of broiled fish, the disciples seem to get more comfortable with the idea that Jesus is indeed back, that resurrection is real.

It’s not quantum physics. It’s simply slowing down, inviting someone to the table, and giving them something to eat. Breaking bread together is how we recognize resurrection.

Yes, literally. We all know the power of a meal shared. The things you learn about strangers at a wedding reception, the friends they sometimes become. The ways you get to know people differently when you invite them over for dinner.

But metaphorically, I see this as an invitation to make time in your life to notice people, to recognize their hunger for recognition, for belonging, to get curious about their wounds. To let them testify to God’s power in their lives to you. And then to suddenly recognize the resurrected Jesus sitting right there in front of you, teaching you new things about faith and love, things you didn’t even know you were longing for until you heard them.

Because to really know a person is to know that however they sin, however YOU sin—against God, against neighbors, against one’s self—is really just a manifestation of past wounds. Wounds left to fester, left untreated, not fully healed, and leave you limping for the rest of your life. Unless someone takes the time to tend to them, to tend to you. To recognize resurrection in them, in YOU.

Because while wounds may leave scars, that suffering, that fear, that wound never has the last word. Not if we’re living a resurrection life. That’s what Jesus shows us.

And that is how we commit to living our faith when we are baptized. Or, if we were baptized as babies, how our parents and godparents committed to teaching us as we grew into our own faith. It’s what Chris is committing to today.

It’s what we will all testify to when we say the Baptismal Vows together.

Baptism is a formal commitment to TESTIFY to resurrection: in the way we live, in the words we speak, in the way we treat others, in the way we respond to sin and despair. And committing to the resurrection life means knowing and believing that sin never has the last word.

Amen.