Dawn: SALT's Commentary for Easter Sunday
Easter Sunday (Year A): Matthew 28:1-10
Big Picture:
1) Easter Sunday! Today begins the season of Eastertide, fifty days of celebrating Jesus’ resurrection — outpacing the forty days of Lent, and at the same time making up roughly one seventh of the entire year, in effect a “sabbath” writ large for the year as a whole. The resurrection is so great a mystery, and calls for so grand a celebration, that merely one day won’t do.
2) Easter Sunday! At the outset of Luke’s Gospel, the priest Zechariah (Elizabeth’s hubby and John the Baptizer’s dad) sings a song known today as the “Benedictus,” including the line: “By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace” (Luke 1:78-79). Now — at last — that dawn has come!
3) But dawn is not the day. Easter Sunday is only the beginning: Jesus’ resurrection is the “first fruits” of the harvest, an encouraging glimpse of what’s ahead (compare 1 Cor 15:20-23). But “what’s ahead,” by definition, isn’t yet here. We call it “dawn” because its rays of light break through the shadows — but it’s also true that for the time being, the shadows remain. Accordingly, Easter comes not as the solution to creation’s problems but rather as profound assurance that a new, irrevocable era has begun — and in the end, love and justice, shalom and joy, will have the final word. The sun will rise!
4) And sure enough, shadows are everywhere today. Violence, despair, rancor, war and rumors of war… But this fifty-day season of Eastertide presents an opportunity: redoubling our commitment to create a graceful, peaceful, beautiful world in which all may live and thrive.
Scripture:
1) Ask ten Christians why the women come to the tomb that Easter morning, and many will tell you that they come bringing spices to anoint Jesus’ corpse — but that’s not the story Matthew tells. It’s Mark and Luke who mention “spices” and anointing; for them, the women come to the tomb because they think Jesus is dead. But on the contrary, for Matthew, the women come to the tomb because they think Jesus is (or soon will be) alive!
2) There are several clues pointing to this idea scattered throughout Matthew’s telling of the story. First, Matthew contends that Mary Magdalene and “the other Mary” show up that morning not to embalm a corpse but rather “to see the tomb” (Matthew 28:1). The Greek word here for “to see,” theoresai, means “to look at” and also “to discern,” to contemplate, analyze, understand. The same Greek root underlies the English word, “theater,” that art in which we behold dramatic action in order to concentrate on its meaning, the better to understand it.
3) Do the two Marys arrive because they expect some dramatic action is about to happen? Matthew gives us every reason to think so. The same women are named explicitly just a few verses earlier: while the male disciples betray and desert Jesus at the crucifixion, the two Marys remain as witnesses, “looking on [theorousai] from a distance; they had followed Jesus from Galilee and had provided for him” (Matthew 27:55-56). In this context, “provide” (Greek diakonousai) means to furnish essential resources; it’s the same word Matthew uses for giving food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, and so on (Matthew 25:44, “take care of”). In other words, the two Marys were devoted followers of Jesus, both learning from him and providing for him — and when the male disciples lose their nerve and run for the hills, the women stay and “see.”
4) And what do they see? According to Matthew, at the very “moment” Jesus dies, “the earth shook” and “tombs also were opened” (Matthew 27:51-52). In other words, just a few days (and just a few verses) before today’s passage, these very women witness astonishing signs that — as another witness, a Roman centurion, proclaims — “Truly this man was God’s Son!” (Matthew 27:54). What’s more, because the two Mary's have been following Jesus all along, they were no doubt familiar with his teaching that he “must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering… and be killed, and on the third day be raised” (Matthew 16:21; 17:22-23; 20:17-19). Indeed, Jesus delivers this teaching to his followers no less than three times in Matthew — and the women, at least, are listening!
5) And so they come to the tomb that morning with great expectations. They don’t bring any embalming spices — because they don’t expect to need them. Unlike their male counterparts, they haven’t given up on God yet. They come “to see the tomb” — which is to say, they come daring to hope that they will see it open! When the earth shakes for a second time in three days, when the tomb’s stone is thunderously rolled aside, they aren’t surprised. Awestruck and overjoyed, yes — but not shocked. The Roman guards faint with terror at the sight of an angel who looks “like lightning” (evoking the Transfiguration in Matthew 17:2) — but the women stand strong, despite their fear. They meet the angel’s gaze. They see what they came hoping and expecting to see.
6) Accordingly, the angel commissions them to go and tell the disciples what they’ve seen, thus making them the original “apostles” (from the Greek apostolus, “person sent forth”). And as they go “with fear and great joy,” the risen Jesus appears to them directly — even before he appears to the male disciples (Matthew 28:8-9). The women bow down and worship, taking hold of his feet — as if to confirm and celebrate that his body, once wounded, tortured, and killed, is now alive again. If the women in Mark and Luke come to anoint Jesus’ corpse, the two Marys in Matthew come to bless Jesus’ resurrected body.
7) Finally, Jesus’ instructions (“go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me”) carry a powerful implication: the gift of forgiveness (Matthew 28:10). The very ones who betrayed and deserted him, who acted for all intents and purposes like enemies, Jesus calls “my brothers.” He wants to be with them — not to rebuke them, but on the contrary, to mercifully commission them, to make them, too, into apostles (Matthew 28:19-20).
Takeaways:
1) It’s Easter Sunday, but it’s only the beginning — and rightly so, since a mystery as fathomless as Easter can only begin on a single day, beckoning us to enter into its depths and riches for the fifty-day season to follow, and beyond.
2) The women arrive on “the first day of the week,” a poetic turn suggesting a new beginning (Matthew 28:1). Easter Sunday is not the end of Lent — it’s the beginning of Eastertide, and in a deeper sense, the beginning of Christian life, a life lived in the light of God’s resurrection. The trumpets and lilies of Easter, then, signal not a final victory, but rather a commencement, a launch, a kickoff — a dawn of a new day.
3) And this morning twilight still has plenty of shadows, and struggles, and doubts. Indeed, if our first reaction to a report of resurrection is skepticism, we’re in good company. Some among Jesus’ own disciples, the ones who arguably knew him best, initially refuse to believe (Matthew 28:17). And as we’ll see in the weeks ahead, Easter faith is often a mix of trust and doubt, belief and disbelief. For after all, there are at least two ways to miss a miracle: first, to dismiss it, to reject it too readily, as if astonishing things never happen; and second, to domesticate it, to accept it too readily, as if it isn’t astonishing at all.
4) The two Marys, however, take their amazement, their “fear and great joy,” another step forward: whether or not they’re completely convinced, they proclaim the mystery. They announce the good news. They are the original apostles: staying with Jesus on the cross, if only “from a distance,” and showing up at dawn on the third day with great expectations. To anyone who argues that women should not be leaders in the Christian church at the highest levels, this story stands as a luminous, devastating reply.
5) Easter Sunday! What’s the good news of the Gospel today? For those who despair that death-dealing powers have the upper hand: fear not. Easter means God ultimately is and will be victorious over the powers of death. For those who feel isolated and lonely: fear not. Easter means we are all together in the risen Body of Christ, even if we’re physically apart. For those who despair that our guilt is too great for God to forgive: fear not. Easter means God has cleared all accounts, liberating humanity from shame, reconciling us to God and each other as God’s children. For those who despair in the midst of pain or anguish: take heart. You are not alone: Jesus suffers with you in solidarity and companionship, and Easter means you will rise with him. For those who despair over a world filled with hate, violence, and scapegoating: be encouraged. In Christ’s passion, God has taken the place of the scapegoat in order to expose humanity’s violent ways — and Easter means God one day will overcome violence. Indeed, Easter means that God has taken one of the worst things in the world (the Roman cross) and remade it into one of the best (the Tree of Life), a sword into a ploughshare — and if the worst, then also the whole creation in the end! Like the cross, the empty tomb is a great divine mystery, a rising sun dispelling shadows in multiple directions. Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!