Message: Empty Tomb / Luke 24:1-12

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. 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. ”Then they remembered his words and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.

Today is Easter Sunday. We are gathered here to celebrate the good news, just like the women who stood before the empty tomb. Christ is risen. He is risen indeed.

But before we celebrate Easter, we need to remember that the journey to the empty tomb could not begin without the wilderness. After a long Lenten journey that began on Ash Wednesday, we have walked through days of reflection, prayer, and wandering. Together, we have travelled through the wilderness, facing our questions and doubts as we remembered the suffering and love of Jesus.

In the Bible, the wilderness stands in contrast to Egypt, a land of slavery that was ruled by Pharaoh, a king who demanded more bricks, more work, and more control. In Egypt, some people were seen as more important than others. They were born with power, while others were born to serve. It was believed that those born as slaves would live and die as slaves. In Egypt, freedom meant gaining enough power to make others serve. It was a system where the strong took from the weak and where life was shaped by status rather than justice.

But the wilderness was different. It was not just a place on the map. It was a place of transformation, where the people were shaped into the people of God. It was a gateway to learning how to live in freedom - the freedom to choose love.

God was leading them toward a new world, a Promised Land where every person would be seen as made in the image of God. In that land, no one would be treated as less. It would be a home of peace and justice, not power and judgment. It would be a sanctuary where all creation could live together in harmony.

In the wilderness, God provided manna. Each day, the people received just enough to eat, not too much, not too little. There was no need to store extra. No need to compete. No need to be afraid. It was a gift of enough. God was teaching them a new way to live, not based on status or power but on trust and sharing. 

But some people began to complain. They said, “If only we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we used to eat in Egypt for nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic. But now our strength is dried up, and there is nothing at all but this manna to look at” (Numbers 11:4-6). They forgot the chains. They forgot the bricks. They forgot the pain. They started to compare their situation to life in Egypt, as if the life of a slave was better than the journey to true liberation.

Their cravings grew louder than their gratitude. Their desires became stronger than their memory of oppression. And God gave them what they asked for. A strong wind blew from the sea, bringing quails into the camp. But instead of receiving this gift with thankfulness, they tried to take more than they needed. They spent the whole day gathering, competing to collect as much as they could. Their bodies were not starving, but their hearts were. They had not let go of the mindset of slavery. They became prisoners of comparison. They were no longer just remembering Egypt. They were becoming Egypt.

Because of this, a great disaster struck them, and many died in that place. It was named Kibroth-hattaavah, which means “the graves of craving.” This is what happens when we believe we must take more, gather more, and do more to prove that we matter.

The philosopher Alain de Botton writes about something similar in his book Status Anxiety, published in 2004. He says that we often feel anxious about the people who are closest to us. Like the people in the wilderness who compared themselves to other slaves, we compare ourselves to classmates, coworkers, neighbours, or cousins. He points out that we do not usually compare ourselves to billionaires or celebrities, or on the other hand, to people living in deep poverty in other countries, because we do not feel jealous or proud toward those whose lives are very different from ours.

According to de Botton, when we compare ourselves to those around us, we start chasing what others have. We feel pressure to keep up and fear falling behind. We worry about being seen as less successful, less smart, less beautiful, or less capable than others. Over time, this makes us forget how to be content and thankful. Slowly, we begin to dig our own graves of craving, burying our peace, joy, and freedom beneath fear, comparison, and competition.

But today, we remember another grave, a very different kind of tomb. Early on Sunday morning, three days after Jesus was crucified, a group of women went to the tomb where his body had been placed. They had followed Jesus all the way to the cross. They had seen his pain, his death, and his burial. And now, filled with sorrow, they came to care for his body one last time. They brought spices, as was the custom.

When they arrived, they saw something shocking. The stone was rolled away. The body was gone. And in their fear, they thought the worst. In their culture, an open tomb could mean shame, even a sign of God’s punishment against the wicked (Isaiah 14:18-19, Jeremiah 8:1-3). Their hearts sank. They felt confusion, sorrow, and maybe even panic.

Luke describes them as “perplexed.” This word is used to describe people caught in a disaster, overwhelmed by confusion and fear. For them, the empty tomb at first was not good news. It was more grief and more trauma.

But then two figures in shining clothes appeared beside them and said, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee” (Luke 24:5–6). When they heard this, something began to change in them. They remembered what Jesus had told them. They remembered his words. They remembered his life.

They remembered walking with him along the lake. They remembered how he had healed the sick, fed the hungry, and welcomed the outsider. They remembered how he had loved the poor, spoken out against injustice, and walked bravely into Jerusalem, where his cross awaited. They remembered his teachings about the kingdom of God. And then, they understood. This empty tomb was not a sign of God’s judgment. It was the beginning of a new world. It was not an ending. It was a doorway.

In the Gospel of Luke, the shepherds were the first to hear of Jesus’ birth. And now, the women were the first to hear of his resurrection. Both groups were people on the margins. They were often overlooked. In Jesus’ time, women’s words were not trusted in court. The Jewish historian Josephus wrote, “From women let not evidence be accepted, because of the levity and temerity of their sex.” That was the world they lived in. Women were not considered human beings but were treated more like property. But that is not the world God chooses. For the men, the women were unreliable. Yet for God, they were trustworthy, more trustworthy than the male disciples who ran away when Jesus was arrested.

The women were brave enough to go to the tomb where Jesus was buried. They brought spices to care for his body. Even though they were often seen as weak, their kindness and compassion became their strength. Their empathy allowed them to stand beside those who were hurting. Their love gave them the courage to resist injustice. They were truly free. Their freedom was not about power or status. They did not compare themselves to others. They lived in the freedom to love, just as Jesus did.

Today, we are standing before the empty tomb of Jesus, not the graves of craving. The empty tomb is not a disaster but an invitation to be free for a new life. It is the freedom from comparison. It is the freedom from fear. It is the freedom from the voices that say we are not enough. It is the freedom to love boldly. It is the freedom to live authentically and fully. It is the freedom to follow in the footsteps of Christ. 

The resurrection of Jesus Christ is not just a miracle from long ago. It is a new way to live today. Every time we come to the tomb of the one crucified by injustice and violence, with compassion and courage, we meet the angels who share the good news: Christ is risen.

May all of us live as Easter people. Nothing can stop us from moving toward the kingdom of God, not even death. In life, in death, and in life beyond death, the risen Christ is with us. Because Christ is risen. He is risen indeed.

Thanks be to God. Amen.