Matthew 28:1-10
John Burnett is a reporter who has seen his fair share of disasters over the years. He covered Hurricane Katrina as well as the earthquake that struck Haiti in January 2010. But he says he’s never seen anything like the destruction wrought by the earthquake and tsunami that recently hit the northeast coast of Japan. In one community, a wave 124-feet tall hit the coast -- that is taller than a ten-story building. Burnett describes the destruction he’s witnessed there as “[utterly] apocalyptic.” (1)
Now I know with all the rain and overcast skies it’s been a little hard to tell, but have you noticed that the days have gotten shorter? I know that since the winter solstice, the days are supposed to be getting longer, but actually, since that earthquake in Japan, each day has been shorter by about 1.26 microseconds. That’s 1.8 millionths of a second...so it’s understandable if you haven’t noticed. (2)
The reason the days have gotten shorter is because the earthquake caused the earth’s mass to shift toward the center, which makes the planet spin just a tiny bit faster. The earthquake didn’t just change life forever for the hundreds of thousands of people who lost loved ones, homes, and livelihoods; it changed the very Earth we all live on.
For all of us who share this planet, earthquakes change everything.
Even though he did not live in an age where precise scientific measurements could be used to calculate minute changes in the length of a day, the writer of Matthew’s gospel understood that earthquakes change everything. In his description of the first Easter morning, he describes not one, but two earthquakes, or to put it more precisely, he describes one earthquake and one human-quake.
Matthew knows his Hebrew Bible well; throughout his gospel he quotes passages from it which speak of God’s coming Messiah and alludes to many others. Here, his description of the earthquake that rumbles when the angel rolls the stone away from the tomb recalls the way the earth shook when God descended onto Mount Sinai to speak to Moses, and when the Lord was about to pass by the prophet Elijah. Matthew knows that when God does a new thing, when God is revealed in a new way, the earth quakes and everything changes.
What Louis Zamperini saw in the war changed everything for him. His incredible story is told by author Laura Hillenbrand in the bestseller Unbroken. (3) Zamperini was a an Olympic runner whose dreams were cut short when America entered the Second World War and Louis became a bombardier.
His story is improbable in so many ways; first, that a kid who was a hooligan -- smoking and drinking and causing all kinds of trouble from a very early age -- actually became an Olympic runner is mind-boggling. But then, Louis was one of three crew members who survived when his B-29 crashed into the Pacific. And then he was one of only two who survived more than forty days adrift on the Pacific ocean in a life raft whose meager supplies of food and water were exhausted in the first two days.
Zamperini’s raft finally washed ashore onto a Japanese island, and he and his co-survivor were promptly captured as prisoners of war. For the next year and a half they were beaten, tortured, and starved by their captors. None of the guards were as destructive, cruel, or brutal in their abuse as a man known as the Bird. From his first day in prison the Bird targeted Louis, stalking him like an animal. For no reason, in fits of uncontrollable rage, the Bird would pounce on Louis, beating him within an inch of his life. Hungry, sick, emaciated, and broken, Louis suffered the greatest of all losses at the hands of the Bird: his humanity.
In the end, Louis Zamperini was one of the fortunate men who returned home, but as was the case for many POW’s, his imprisonment continued long after his release. Haunted by the Bird in his dreams, Louis turned to drinking to ease the pain and dull the memories. As his life wasted away, one feeling consumed Louis Zamperini: hatred for the Bird. Louis couldn’t stop thinking of his enemy, and the more Louis became obsessed with him, the more his life fell into disrepair.
Matthew tells us that the Roman authorities were so afraid that Jesus’ followers would steal his body as a way of staging a resurrection that they posted guards at his tomb. When the earthquake hit and the angel of the Lord appeared, the guards were so alarmed that Matthew says they “shook and became like dead men.” The word “shook” there would be better translated “quaked” -- it’s the same Greek word used for the earthquake in verse two. In other words, the guards experienced a “human-quake.” Jesus’ transformation from dead to alive changed the guards in such a way that they went from alive to “becoming like dead men” -- paralyzed by shock and fear.
The guards weren’t the only people there that morning. Two women, Mary Magdelene and the other Mary, had come to see if what Jesus had said would come true. Certainly these women must have experience a human-quake of their own, but the angel quickly reassures them: “Do not be afraid.” Then he invites them to “come, see the place where he lay.” The angel invites the women to see with their own eyes that Jesus is no longer a dead body lying in a tomb, but that the tomb is empty. The women see for themselves. And what they see changes everything.
Louis Zamperini’s life had hit rock bottom when his wife dragged him to a revival hosted by an up and coming preacher named Billy Graham. The first time Louis attended one of Graham’s rallies, his message didn’t stick, but the second time it did, and when Louis encountered God, it changed everything. Overwhelmed by God’s love and grace, Louis began taking responsibility for his life. He quit drinking and salvaged his marriage. He returned to Japan and confronted his captors, offering them the grace God extended to him. He looked into the tomb where he had wasted away since the war and saw that it was empty. Louis Zamperini experienced resurrection.
Back at Jesus’ tomb, the angel wasn’t done with the women yet. After telling them to come and see the empty tomb, he tells them to “go quickly and tell his disciples.” If these women had kept what they had seen to themselves, we wouldn’t have Matthew’s gospel or any other gospel.
The same is true, of course, with Zamperini’s story. If he had reconciled with his wife and found a decent job and gone on to live a quiet life, Unbroken wouldn’t be a bestselling book. What makes his story relevant to us is that Zamperini spent the rest of his life sharing it, telling people how God raised him from death to new life. Over the years, he spoke to hundreds of groups about his ordeal, his anger, and the peace he found with God. Louis Zamperini experienced a humanquake that changed him forever...and he testified about it to the end of his life.
The story we come to celebrate today doesn’t end with Jesus’ empty tomb...the story can’t end there. And it can’t end here, in this sanctuary, either. Like the women, we receive the invitation to come and see the empty tomb, but we also hear the command to “go quickly and tell!” Without the testimonies of each new generation of Jesus’ disciples, this story is an empty one with little purpose or power.
The novel Peace Like a River by Leif Enger is one of my top five books of all time. It is a beautiful story of faith and love and the importance of testimony. At one point two characters are talking about faith.
“Don’t you ever doubt it?" Davy asks his friend.
“And in fact I have,” the friend replies. “And perhaps I will again. But here is what happens. I look out the window at the red farm - for here we live, Sara and I, in a new house across the meadow, a house built by capable arms and open lungs and joyous sweat. Maybe I see our daughter, home from school, picking plums or apples for Roxanna; maybe one of our sons, reading on the grass or painting an upended canoe. Or maybe Sara comes into the room - my darling Sara - with Mr. Cassidy’s beloved rolls on a steaming plate. Then I breathe deeply, and certainty enters into me like light, like a piece of science, and curious music seems to hum inside my fingers.
“Is there a single person on whom I can press belief? No sir. All I can do is say, Here’s how it went. Here’s what I saw. I’ve been there and am going back. Make of it what you will.” (4)
Once we have seen the empty tomb, once we experience our human-quake, all we can do is testify. Don’t get me wrong, whether you tell anyone about it or not, the resurrection is still true. But unless we see the places in our own lives where God brings new life from what looked like death, unless we see resurrection and then go and tell others, “here is how it went. Here is what I saw,” then the Easter story makes little difference.
What have been the “human-quakes” in your life? What has God done for you that changed everything? Whatever it is, that is where your testimony begins. And it doesn’t have to be an monumental as what happened to Louis Zamperini; most of us simply don’t have stories that dramatic. But we all have resurrection experiences, even if they’re the kind that only change us in minute increments, like the 1.8 millionths of a second recently shaved off the length of a day by the Japanese earthquake.
Whatever we think of when we reflect on how God has resurrected us and given us new life, whatever gratitude fills our hearts when the power of the empty tomb resonates in our lives, that is our Easter story. That is what we are called to go and tell others: “here is how it went. Here is what I saw.” Alleluia. Amen.
Endnotes:
1. “Reporter Recalls Covering Japanese Quake, Tsunami,” All Things Considered, NPR News, April 18, 2011.
2. "Japan Earthquake May Have Changed Earth’s Axis,” Talk of the Nation, NPR News, March 18, 2011.
3. Laura Hillenbrand, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption. Random House, 2010.
4. Leif Enger, Peace Like a River. Atlantic Monthly Press, 2001, p. 311.
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