The Message
 
I want to begin my sermon today by sharing a story with you, but it’s a story that my sister would probably be angry with me for sharing, so let’s just keep it between us… ok?

My family was on vacation, heading back home to Wisconsin from Yellowstone National Park. We’d been in the car for a long road trip, and we were getting weary (and probably just a little bit sick of each other).
​
We stopped for breakfast at a Perkins (kind of like Denny’s for those of you who aren’t familiar).
 
The host seated us at this strange little booth in a secluded little area of the restaurant, and there was no one else around.
 
We ordered our food and had just gotten our drinks.
 
My sister – ever the “fidgeter” – was playing with one of those little plastic creamers. It had a miniscule hole in the bottom of the plastic part, and she was squeezing the cream out onto the table and writing something with the cream.
 
My dad and I both took a swig of our drinks, and at that exact moment, the top of the creamer packet popped open and the cream that was left in the packet splatted right into my sister’s face. It was a slow motion cartoon! My dad and I both spit our drinks out and went into fits of laughter, while my sister sat there stunned.
 
My mom was horrified and embarrassed.
 
The server stopped to take our food orders, not having seen any of what just happened.
 
All she saw was a table full of creamer, hot chocolate, and soda, and half of us unable to breath from laughing so hard.
 
My mom apologized profusely and the server said, “don’t worry, it happens all the time.” As she walked away, I managed to say “I bet this exact thing doesn’t happen all the time” in between fits of laughter.
 
We went on to have an uneventful rest of the trip.
 
But, the point in sharing this story is to say that mealtimes tend to be one of the favorite settings for us to create and share memories and stories.
 
Many of you will probably be heading off to various family meals after church to celebrate Easter.
 
When we gather at tables and relive shared family memories, we create links between past and future. We pass these stories on from generation to generation.
 
Likewise, part of the Christian identity was formed around the table – particularly in the breaking and sharing of bread.
 
The last meal that Jesus shared with his disciples was a Passover meal – a ritual meal of celebration and remembrance.
 
The purpose of this meal was to remember God’s mighty act of leading Israel out of slavery and into freedom.
 
However, by the time Matthew’s Gospel was written, Passover was becoming what it is for Jews today: an in-home celebration retelling the story of God’s deliverance even in the face of disasters and defeat.
 
And we of course hear many different stories in which Jesus shares meals with his followers and disciples.
 
Always, at the centre of the shared meal, are four gestures:
 
Jesus takes bread. He blesses it (or gives thanks). He breaks it, and he gives it to them.
 
Much like we still practice during Holy Communion today.
 
Whenever we eat bread, we are to remember that we do not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from God.
 
And when we eat bread and share a cup in remembrance of Jesus, we are to take in the mystery of God’s amazing grace and self-giving love.
 
We get to experience this grace today. And, we get to remember that there is so much for us to be grateful for as we receive this grace.
 
Even in a world that sometimes feels like it is crumbling around us, we have much to be grateful for.
 
And, on today of all days, we get to experience this meal in community. Not only do we get to receive God’s grace, but we are also reminded of Jesus’s sacrifice for us, and his resurrection.
 
The concept of the resurrection is not always easy for us to wrap our heads around.
 
We could have an entire sermon series (or an entire academic lecture series, honestly), on the resurrection. But today, let me try to put it as simply as possible:
 
Resurrection is something we can see and know in this world.
 
It is a family that stays up all night after a death, keeping memories alive as they share stories and laugh over old jokes.
 
It is the power behind social movements and activism and protest, where people name and claim that injustice and oppression and death will not have the final word but that life exists just on the other side.
 
It is the grace of a loved one returning from the brink of death by the miracle and love of God.
 
And resurrection is the power of remembering that we are deeply loved, and Jesus proved that love to us over and over again.
 
It is the power of knowing that we serve a purpose here in this world, that our time is limited, and we get this time here to live into the gifts God has given us out of tremendous love for us, exactly how we are in this moment.
 
So, as we come to the table today to receive Christ’s grace, we come just as we are, and Christ meets us there.
 
May we seek to live as resurrection people in this world that knows so much death.
 
May we be resurrection people of hope, of compassion, of justice and,
 
Above all,
 
May we be resurrection people of love. Amen.
 
Let us pray:
 
Living God, who came to this world and entered human pain, come and be in every painful place in our lives, be in every painful place in our world.
 
Living God, who in the secret darkness rose from the grave, come and be in the secret, dark places in our lives, be in every secret, dark place in our world.

​The Message
 
For those of you who have not been able to join us through Lent, we have wandering with Peter on this Lenten journey.
​
We have watched as Jesus called Peter to be a disciple by climbing into Peter’s fishing boat and taking it out on the water so he could teach the people on shore.

We watched as, after a long night of fishing without success, Jesus tells Peter and his crew to go back out, and with heavy hearts, they try again.
 
Then, we watched as Peter’s crew hauled in nets overflowing in abundance of fish. Through this experience, we saw Peter drop his livelihood and begin his discipleship with Jesus.
 
Next, we journeyed with Peter as he tried to step out of the boat and onto the water and walk toward Jesus.
 
Through a tremendous leap of faith, Peter took a risk and stepped out of the boat, and began to sink.
 
But we also saw Peter try something daring in order to demonstrate his faith in Jesus, knowing that even if he failed, Jesus would extend his hand to him.
 
We’ve wandered with Peter as he’s confronted his biases about what a Messiah might say and do.
 
We’ve seen him ask so many questions, we’ve seen him doubt Jesus, and we’ve seen him deny Jesus.
 
Peter is the rock on which the church is built.
 
But he’s also imperfect and flawed – anxious and unsure, questioning and doubting.
 
And today – on Easter Sunday – we might expect that, after denying Christ, Peter would cower in shame.
 
We might expect him to run away and leave this wild journey with Jesus behind him.
 
Instead, when he hears the news that the tomb is empty from this group of women, he doesn’t dismiss them like the other disciples do.
 
He gets up and he runs to the tomb.
 
When he peers into the empty tomb and he sees the linen cloth, he is filled with awe.
 
I wonder if, as he ran to the tomb, he was feeling disbelief, or hope?
 
Was he wondering if it was truly possible that Jesus rose from the dead?
 
Peter had denied Christ three times. He was not there when Jesus died.
 
So when a group of women come to the disciples telling them the tomb is empty, the others don’t respond with simple disbelief – they outright dismiss the women.
 
While translations will render their reaction as “an idle tale,” “foolish talk,” or “nonsense,” the real meaning of the Greek word is “garbage.” The women announce Jesus’ promises fulfilled and the response—from the ones who were closest to Jesus— is, “yeah, well, that’s a bunch of rubbish.”
 
There is so much truth and honesty in this reaction. 
 
After all, the good news frequently seems too good to be true.
 
If the tomb is empty, if Jesus has been raised from the dead, then life as we’ve known and expected it is no longer.
 
The world has been turned upside down (Acts 17:6).
 
And if the world has been turned upside down, how do we even know how to live?
 
If the disciples thought the resurrection was a pile of trash, what are people going to think when we confess belief in the resurrection?
 
“Could it really be true?” is the question I think Peter asked himself, and with hope on his heels, he ran to the tomb to see for himself.
 
Peter goes home wondering and it’s in that wondering that the meaning of the resurrection lies.
 
The resurrection only makes sense when we remain amazed, marveling and wondering at the love of God that reversed death itself.
 
We are not asked to explain the resurrection, offer proof for the resurrection, or make a case for the resurrection.
 
Instead, like Peter, we live in wonder—for how belief in the God of resurrection truly can change the world, making it a more beautiful place. 
 
A place where asking questions, remaining awed, and maintaining a sense of wonder are important and healthy ways of being in the world. Amen.
 
Let us pray:
 
God of new beginnings, On that first Easter morning, the disciples struggled to hear the good news. Doubt clouded their minds. Negativity took root and hope vanished with a simple shake of their heads. Thank you for helping us to hear differently this morning. Thank you for opening our ears that we might hear the sound of Alleluias ringing through our hearts.
 
Thank you for opening our minds so that the mystery and joy of Easter might feel within reach. Thank you for opening our hearts so that we might believe the unbelievable. And, thank you for helping us move closer to you today and every day. Amen.
 
Portions of this sermon reference materials from A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org. Used with permission.