Many of you already know that I used to work in a cemetery. It was my summer job, 40 hours a week. It was hard work. As you may realize, the summer months in St. Louis can be hot and humid. 100 degrees F are not that uncommon. So wearing long pants, boots, a hard hat, and protective goggles doesn’t do much to cool you down. Which is why there were some jobs that were considered better than others.
Some worked their way up to the weed-eating crew. There were only two who were chosen for this particular task. But it was still a very hot and sweaty job, and those guys usually came in at the end of the day covered with the dust and pieces of grass that flew in the air all day.
Some worked their way up to the fence-painting crew. They focused on painting sections of the iron fences that surrounded the 350-400 acre cemetery in which we worked. The nice thing about the painting crew was that a person could lie down on the job…and it was okay. After all, somebody had to paint the parts of the fence closest to the ground.
Though I know this will sound a bit boastful, I was chosen for something even better. I worked on the stone-cleaning crew. Like the weed-eating crew there were only two of us. We were the elite…the chosen … the few ... the proud. (Almost sounds like an Army commercial.) We were the ones who got to mix acid and play in water all day long. We were the ones who laughed when the forecaster talked about 105-degree days and high humidity. And best of all…we were the ones who were given our own tractor to take rides out to those areas of the cemetery where no one else would go.
But I will say that we also had some pretty important responsibilities. If things weren’t done right, stones might be burned and turn yellow, grass would be killed, and mausoleums worth large sums of money could be ruined. That’s why we were to take our time when setting up and cleaning up. It was to be done carefully. But it also gave us a significant amount of time to make observations of our surroundings.
Let me tell you…when you work in a cemetery you get to see some interesting sights and people. You are able to observe what goes on at nearby funerals, and you get to observe the reactions of people. You also get to see people stop by to visit the gravesite of someone they love. You get to see a lot of tears and a lot of sadness; and you realize that no matter how historical or beautiful a cemetery is to the passer by, it is still a place that serves only one purpose. A cemetery is a place of death. It’s a place of separation, sadness, and it serves as a constant reminder of the inevitable. I can tell you this, I never once saw someone cheering and rejoicing when they came to visit.
Speaking in theological terms, a cemetery is nothing more than a place of Law and the consequences for not keeping it. It is an in your face, earthly reminder of how things work in this world as a result of sin and imperfection. Every day I worked there, I witnessed the result that stemmed from the consequence of sin, and I can honestly say I never met anyone that liked it. I’ll say it again, that place was nothing more than a place of Law and death. So can you imagine what it was like when grace and life exploded?
The women came to the tomb on that first Easter Sunday expecting to find in that cemetery garden what anyone else would have expected to find. We aren’t revealed their educational background or level, but they knew as well as anyone else what they were going to find – a place where the bodies of those who have died are laid. The only life in the garden that they expected to witness was the day to day scurrying of animals and chirping of birds…until grace exploded onto the scene.
Suddenly, and from what seemed like out of nowhere, there are two men who are clearly not like any of the others that they know. In fact, these weren’t men at all. They had to be angels. And you know what? They knew what we know. That’s not normal. That’s not the kind of thing you expect to see in a cemetery. Cemeteries are quiet, solemn places, and these men were more than “quiet” or “solemn.” These men were very much alive, revealing that this day was a day that would forever change the course of history…our history. On this day, for the first time in the history of the world, grace had exploded.
Can you hear it in the voices of those angels? “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” What do you mean “living among the dead?” Jesus was dead the last time they saw Him. The women had followed those who buried Him in this very place. The “living among the dead?” “He is not here; he has risen!”
I can honestly tell you that I don’t know what the voice of an angel sounds like. But just as the heavenly host of angels proclaimed that Christ was born, you and I can only begin to imagine how the words of these angels burst through the eardrums of those women and headed straight for their hearts.
Today that’s all we can do, isn’t it? We can only begin to imagine what it was like to hear those words proclaimed from the tomb, right? We can only ponder what it was like when grace exploded onto that cemetery scene and into this world…right? Wrong!
We can do more than imagine or ponder. We can praise and glorify the risen King! Because when grace exploded into the hearts and lives of those women, it exploded into our hearts and lives as well. “He is not here; he is risen!”
He is! Jesus has risen from the dead. He has shattered the common conceptions of what a cemetery is all about. Because for Christ, it was only a temporary holding ground. No more than three days. “He is risen!”
For us, the cemetery is still a reminder that none of us are getting out of here alive. Unless Christ returns before our last breath, we will all face the same earthly ending. And yet, the cemetery is also an earthly reminder of what happened when grace exploded onto the scene of our dying world. The cemetery is no longer what it used to be. It is now a place where the words of the angels are proclaimed time and time again. “He is risen!” And because of the fact that grace exploded, we can now confidently stand and proclaim with Job, “I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in the flesh I will see God; I myself will see him with my own eyes…”
It really does make sense. That’s what happens when grace explodes. “He is risen! He is risen indeed!” Happy Easter!
Pastor Kurt