Easter Sunday 2026

Well, well, good morning and welcome to Trinity.

If I haven't met you before, my name is Mike.

Hello.

And I love Easter.

Have you ever wondered why the resurrection story in Matthew only gets ten verses?

I mean, I guess if you stretch it, maybe there's twenty if you include the Great Commission.

That's it.

The story is strikingly scant on details.

Matthew doesn't tell us anything about the hows, none of the science of it, none of the timeline, no strict order of events.

It's in sharp contrast to his account of the last week of Jesus' death, to which Matthew devotes roughly eight chapters.

Chapter 21.

Chapter 22, 46 verses.

Chapter 23, oh that's a short one.

Only 39 verses.

Chapter 24, still in the last week, is let's see.

42, 51 verses.

Chapter 25, this is his final sermon, is like just a couple days before he died.

46 verses.

The plot to kill Jesus.

Oh, finally, we're to three days before Jesus' death.

This chapter is 75 verses.

Chapter 27, we're finally now to Jesus' trials.

Let's see, chapter 27.

He's mocked, he's buried.

That's 66 verses.

And then the resurrection.

You can see it in my Bible starts at chapter 28, verse 1, and then it ends.

That's it.

Right there.

The triumphal entry, the temple controversies, the Olivet Discord, the Last Supper, the betrayal, arrest, trials, crucifixion, the burial.

Every detail of Jesus' last week is rendered.

All of them.

The soldiers, the seamless robe, the thing with the vinegar, the darkness at noon, the curtain tearing in two.

Even the guards at the tomb get their own scene.

But the resurrection itself, ten verses.

There's no description of the moment of rising.

There's no witness to the actual event.

There's not even an attempt.

Matthew, who has been meticulous up until this point, suddenly goes almost silent.

Why would such a careful writer do that?

He could have attempted to describe the moment of the resurrection.

Later writers would, but Matthew won't.

Because he wasn't there.

Nobody was there.

Instead, he takes us as close as he can honestly get.

He tells us who was there, two Marys.

He tells us when the first crack of dawn on Sunday.

He tells us what they felt, something like an earthquake.

He tells us what the Marys saw.

They saw a stone rolled away with an angel sitting nonchalantly on top of it.

And the guards passed out, presumably from fear.

And then he tells us what the angels said to the Marys.

Do not be afraid.

I know you're looking for the crucified Jesus.

He's not here.

And then come.

Take a peek inside, see it for yourself.

I wonder, perhaps the stone was rolled away not to let Jesus out, but to let the women in.

And then lastly, go.

Because Jesus is out there.

That's it.

Nothing more.

Matthew tells us how the angel met them in their fear, how he named their fear, how he acknowledged what or who they were looking for.

How he gave them just enough information that they might respond in faith.

And then how he sends them that they might meet the crucified and risen Jesus.

Matthew doesn't tell us more because Matthew wasn't there.

Neither were you.

Neither was I.

Neither was anyone.

Instead, you and I are exactly where Matthew puts every reader after the fact, missing almost all of the information, but perhaps, perhaps, hearing enough to make a decision and to take a step of faith.

The truth is, for most of us, most of the time, it's not lack of information that keeps us from stepping further into a life of faith.

Heck, we have more information than ever before in the history of humanity in the palm of our hands at any given moment.

Maybe we have too much information.

No, it's not a lack of information that keeps us from stepping further into a life of faith.

If we're honest, we're usually not stuck because we don't have enough evidence.

We're usually stuck because we're afraid.

Because we know that if the story is true, if Jesus really is the Son of God, if he really did live and die for the forgiveness of sins, and if he really was raised from the dead, then that might require something of us.

Might ask us to change how we're living, why we're living.

Might ask us to do something.

To take a step deeper into a life of faith.

And we're comfortable with.

When we'd rather just keep doing our own thing.

The soldiers of the most powerful army in the history of the world are passed out at his feet.

He tells them the thing that they hadn't dared to believe was possible.

That Jesus, who they knew was crucified, who was dead, good and dead, was actually alive, but they haven't met him yet.

They've just been told to go.

What is the Matthew tells them to do?

Go find the disciples, tell them.

They haven't seen Jesus themselves yet.

They've just heard an announcement that he's alive.

They have a choice.

Will they listen?

Go, keep looking for Jesus?

Or will they just shrug their shoulders and say, meh, and go on their way?

Say, well, that's a little crazy.

But not sure it matters that much for me.

My life is just fine the way it is.

And I'm pretty busy right now, after all.

I should probably just go get back to work.

I mean, a choice seems a little ridiculous, doesn't it?

At least when we think about the story like that, and yet it's not that different from the choice in front of you in front of me this morning.

I wasn't there at the first Easter.

I didn't see how it happened.

But just like the Marys, I've heard the story of the empty tomb.

I've been told that Jesus, who was crucified, that I might be forgiven my sins, is alive.

And the question before the Marys is the question before me and before you.

So what?

What are you gonna do with that announcement?

The Marys decide to step out in faith, to do what the angel told them, to go and share the news of the other disciples, and so they go.

And what do you know?

Jesus finds them.

In what seems to be the most anticlimactic two sentences, at least to me, of the entire Bible.

He says, hello.

I imagine this, and maybe I imagine this doubly because my middle son has been learning to play Adele on the piano this spring, but this is how I imagine the scene.

They're like, he's not here, he's risen, there's an angel, like we can't just go back to normal, we've gotta go.

They go running back, and suddenly Jesus is just like, hello?

Is it me you're looking for?

That's it, that's the greeting, greetings! That's what he says.

That's it.

Then he says the same thing as the angel, don't be afraid.

We can laugh.

I imagine they're probably shocked.

Go and tell the disciples.

That's it.

You notice that?

There's no explanation.

He doesn't tell them where he's been, what he's been up to.

That's it.

Just hello, greetings, don't be afraid, go to the disciples.

Just a personal greeting, meeting them in their fears, and then helping them take the right next step of faith.

Like Matthew, I don't know much of what happened on this day 2,000 years ago.

Like Matthew, I wasn't there.

Like the Marys, I've heard the announcement.

Jesus, the one who was crucified, is alive, just like he said.

Like the Marys, I've had to make a choice.

I have to make a choice each and every day.

I could say, meh.

Not really sure why that matters all that much for me.

My life is just fine, thank you very much.

I've got some other things to get to.

And too often, if I'm honest, that's how I respond.

Or I could say, we we could say, if this is true, if this is true, then perhaps I ought to take a step deeper into a life of faith.

Get moving.

Look for Jesus.

I wish I could say I always pick the second.

That's not true.

Some days, to my shame, I can't be bothered.

But let me tell you this.

On the days where, by the grace of God, I respond to his invitation to go, on the days that I decide to listen and look for Jesus, orient myself towards him, he has a way of surprising me, of finding me, of meeting me in my fears, of inviting me further into a life of faith.

And when I feel stuck or afraid or uncertain, it seems that if I just go looking for him, he'll give me just enough of a peek behind the stone to take that next step of faith towards him.

Look, I think Matthew's account of the resurrection is short because he wasn't there.

He's only sharing what he was told by those who were.

And he's not insecure about that.

He doesn't feel the need to prove it or explain it.

Instead, he offers what he knows as an invitation to the reader, to the listener, to you and to me, when we're stuck or afraid or uncertain or ambivalent or can't be bothered.

He offers it a peek behind the stone and an invitation to step deeper into a life of faith.

Despite all the missing information.

Just like the angel sharing the news and an invitation to come and see for yourself to seek the crucified and risen Jesus, who's no longer dead, but is alive.

Just like he said.

Oh gracious God, I pray that you would, by the power of your spirit, give me, give us just enough faith this morning to take a step towards you.

That you would empower us, that you would convict where necessary, that you would give us what we need to seek you.

That seeking you we might find you.

And finding you, we might be satisfied in you forever and ever.

Through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.