A sermon preached by the Reverend Canon Dr. David Anderson on Easter Day, April 20, 2025, at St. Jude’s Church.
I speak to you in the name of our risen Lord. Amen.
I am always amazed at how Easter rises to its glorious splendour year after year. From the glorious celebrations of last night’s Great Easter Vigil to the brass and joyful music of Easter morning, I feel the Easter joy wrapping around us like a warm embrace this morning. The vibrancy of life, the renewal of spirit, and the promise of new beginnings fill this space as we commemorate the resurrection of our Lord.
Yet, as we gather to celebrate Easter today, it’s striking to realize that the initial reaction of the first witnesses to the empty tomb was far from celebration. In every Gospel account recounting the resurrection, the responses of those who came to the tomb were notable for their intensity—fear, perplexity, terror, confusion, weeping, amazement, and disbelief. There exists a profound absence of joy in those first encounters with the empty tomb.
Consider, for example, the poignant words of Mary Magdalene in this morning’s reading from John: "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him" (Jn 20:13). We may be surprised by her despair. We have gathered here this morning expecting Easter, but we need to remember that Mary had come to the tomb expecting death.
Instead, she observes the stone rolled away and weeps inconsolably since she can only assume that the grave and body of Jesus had been desecrated. Mary Magdalene came to the tomb expecting to find the body of Jesus, and when she does not, her sorrow is profound—“They have taken away my Lord,” she cries. Her despair is immediate and visceral; it captures the essence of human grief and loss.
We imagine Easter as a time of joy. We might come, therefore, expecting that those who had loved, followed, and learned from Jesus would, in theory, be celebrating on this Day of Resurrection. After all, Jesus had forewarned them on multiple occasions about his impending death, coupled with the promise of resurrection (cf. Mark 8:31-33; 9:30-32; 10:33-34). Yet, despite those warnings, his followers struggled to comprehend the reality of the resurrection.
Like us, Mary was conditioned to know the power of death in the world and the power of the death-dealing forces that threaten all God’s creatures. Mary fully expected to find a dead body, and for death and the corrupt forces of this world to have the final word. The thought of Jesus rising from the dead had not crossed her mind, despite anything Jesus may have previously proclaimed about his resurrection. Like many of us, Mary knows what it is to feel hopeless.
As John recounts this pivotal moment in his Gospel, the darkness that accompany Mary’s visit to the tomb is a crucial detail that cannot be overlooked. The contrast between darkness and light is significant throughout the Bible. From the very beginning, we read about God creating light: "Let there be Light," and indeed, there was light (Gen 1:3). This light triumphs over darkness, as John establishes right from the start of his biography of Jesus: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it” (John 1).
Mary Magdalene approached the empty tomb in the dimness of the Sabbath, just before dawn on Resurrection Day. Upon realizing that the stone had been rolled away, and Jesus’ body was missing, her instinct was to weep in that darkness. It is as if she is enveloped by the shadows of despair and doubt. As John tells us, “For as yet they did not understand the Scripture, that Jesus must rise from the dead” (Jn 20:9).
Mary’s heartfelt statement, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him,” resonates with horror, loss, and confusion. Yet, for Mary, Peter, John, and indeed for all of us who follow Christ, the Empty Tomb speaks to us of joy. The body of the Lord has not been taken away (cf. Mt 27:64; 28:13-15). On the contrary! Jesus is with us—Emmanuel—and Jesus promises to be with us until the end of the ages (Mt 1:23; 28:20).
The Gospels offer no solid explanation of what happened to Jesus’ body; instead, they present only details that deepen the mystery surrounding the resurrection. The resurrection of Jesus stands as a mystery and a miracle that defies all human comprehension.
This is not to suggest there was a lack of evidence around the resurrection. In fact, post-resurrection, Jesus appears to his disciples and expresses affection, tenderness, and even hunger. While Mary is instructed not to cling to him, Thomas is invited to probe his wounds. The resurrected Jesus is certainly no ghost; he remains a recognizable man, though transformed. His wounds—the marks of his suffering—remain, serving as a powerful testament to how we are healed. He is the same, yet different, embodying the profound truth that resurrection does not erase our suffering but redeems it.
Jesus’ resurrection is more than a resuscitation of the dead body; it is the beginning of a new order. It signifies that God’s reign has burst into our world, offering the gift of new life, the redemption of all things, and a world set right. This new life is God’s promise to us, manifesting hope in the most desolate circumstances. Thus, the resurrected Jesus responds to our doubts about his presence in our lives with an impactful question. It is the same question we read in Luke’s description of the resurrection, asked by the angels at the tomb: “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen!” (Lk 24:5).
We all experience moments of doubt and uncertainty in life. Like Mary, shrouded in darkness early that morning, we sometimes find ourselves desperately searching for Jesus. Our life circumstances can lead us to question his presence and care. Many have felt this way during difficult times—after losing a job, struggling to make ends meet, or navigating the pain of a broken relationship, or health crisis.
Similarly, we may question God’s presence in our broader communities and the world. This weekend, not far from where I live in Hamilton, a young, innocent woman was tragically killed, caught in the crossfire of gun violence. Where is God amidst such devastation? Where is he in the turmoil of the war in Ukraine, in the destruction of Gaza, and in the suffering inflicted by terrorism in Israel? Where is God when natural disasters wreak havoc in people’s lives, leaving destruction in their wake?
Many of us have faced despair, as we witness the brokenness of our world. Some of us may be grappling with such feelings right now, echoing Mary’s words: “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.”
But for everyone who feels their dreams have been shattered, their hopes dashed, and their spirits crushed, here is the good news of Easter morning: the risen Christ has the power to take our heavy hearts and fill them with hope and life once more. He frees us from the shackles of grief and disappointment, guiding us away from being bewildered by the emptiness of the tomb.
Easter embodies a new opportunity, a second chance—the freedom to recognize that new life is at work within us. It invites us to see the risen Christ right in front of us and gives us a chance to start anew.
Wherever we find ourselves this morning—whether we are celebrating with joy or grappling with sorrow—may our crucified and risen Saviour help us to recognize his presence in our lives. Even in our darkest moments, we are reminded that God does not abandon us. Like the dawn that broke on that first Easter morning, hope emerges in unexpected places. Just as Mary Magdalene first found the empty tomb, it is often in our moments of despair that we may discover the depths of God’s grace and the fullness of his love.
We are called to be witnesses to this hope, just as Mary was commissioned to go forth and tell the others. She became the first evangelist, conveying the message of resurrection and life to a world steeped in darkness. We too are called to share this transformative message of hope with those around us—breaching the silence of despair with testimonies of resurrection in our own lives and communities.
Let us also remember that just as Mary encountered the risen Lord, so do we. Through prayer, worship, in Holy Eucharist, and community. Jesus also invites us to see him in the things of daily life—through acts of kindness, expressions of love, and moments of joy.
As we embrace the call of the resurrection, we are not simply called to believe in it as an event that happened, but to live it out as a reality that shapes our world today. The resurrection is a promise that influences how we engage with one another and our communities. It encourages us to love boldly, hope fiercely, and live with unwavering faith.
May our hearts be filled with the unshakeable joy of the resurrected Christ. May we walk forward, champions of hope and vessels of love, shining the light of our risen Lord in every place we go. May we remind those we encounter that the tomb is indeed empty and that God’s love is a living reality. +
