Luke 24:12: “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.”
The tomb was empty and there was confusion. Jesus had… risen? What did the angel’s words mean? Peter’s friend and teacher had been dead. Done. Crucified on a cross and buried. Jesus was alive? Where? When? How?
There was and is a lingering sense of emptiness in the amazement. Jesus left his linen cloths behind, but we’re still here. Jesus said on the cross in the Gospel of John, “It is finished,” but we’re still here. What was finished, Jesus?
His life and ministry were finished and the world was still a mess: people sick, lonely, grieving, questioning, hungry, abused, in pain, ignored, at war. There still are. What do we do now?
Perhaps you feel a bit uneasy in your life this Easter season. What do I do now that I’m retired? What is life’s purpose and meaning now? What do I do now that my husband or wife is dead and gone? Now that I’m home from college? For those of you grieving a loss, there can be a profound sense of emptiness.
There’s a moment in this wonderful Disney classic I watched over and over again when I was a kid: Mickey and the Beanstalk (Disney’s version of “Jack and the Beanstalk”).
There’s a famine in the land. Mickey and Donald and Goofy play starving farmers who are down to their last slice of bread, their last bit of food. The only thing of value they have left is an old milking cow whose milk ran dry.
Mickey decides to take a chance. He trades in the cow for three magic beans. A quick fix to fill the emptiness! But Donald and Goofy are enraged: how could Mickey be so stupid! So naïve! Donald takes the beans and throws them onto the ground. Worthless beans. The beans bounce through a hole in the wooden floor of their one room farmhouse, landing in the dust. It is finished for Mickey, Donald, and Goofy.
But wait…
In the light of the moon, out of the hole, creeps new life: the beans have sprouted. A beanstalk grows. And grows! And GROWS! God is not done with Mickey, Donald, and Goofy.
I met a man the other day serving food to the hungry down at Community Meals. He was down on his luck. His girlfriend had left him. He had spent his savings. His church had barred their doors, having helped him before. He was praying that God would give him another chance.
I was caught up in the stress of all the worship planning that happens around Easter.
I listened to his story but to be honest, I worried that he would want my church to take on all his troubles. I wanted to help him, but I couldn’t fix his life! Could I? Especially not this week! Sounds terrible, doesn’t it? I felt empty, tense, and ashamed.
To my surprise, he could sense my inner turmoil and he said, “Actually, what I’ve been praying for is fellowship. You’re the first person that’s listened to me in a long while… I can do this with God’s help. Things will work out. A door will open. But today I experienced Jesus in your listening ear.” Grace. When we least expect it in our emptiness, Jesus shows up. We were Christ for each other that day.
This man was very hungry but he was not spiritually starving. He had an inner resilience that comes from years of faith in the unseen. A door will open. I told him I wanted to continue to get to know him and would keep my heart open for ways to help give him a hand up, not a hand out.
God is not done with this man and God is not done with me. New life grows out of the folly of magic beans. Or a cross. Or an empty tomb. When we feel empty, just wait, we may discover unexpected fullness.
Peter didn’t stay at the empty tomb. He went home and he went on with his life, serving Christ in his neighbor.
But in that in-between place, before Peter makes the decision to go back home, I believe Peter rediscovers something about his relationship with God.
He discovers what we all must discover: that home is already here. An empty tomb means that Jesus is not out there. God has moved in here. God has always been calling us from in here. Before the world began you were chosen, chosen in Christ to live through love in his presence’ (Ephesians 1:4). We are united with God in God’s love and nothing we do can separate us from that love! (Romans 8) The inner resilience is remembering that in times of emptiness.
A homeless man, just hoping for a listening ear, helped me remember.
Happy Easter, my friends.
Tyler Beane Kelly is pastor at Zion Lutheran Church, ELCA, in The Dalles. His passions are movies, conversations about faith, hiking the gorge, and trying (and sometimes failing) to follow Jesus. He’d love to hear from you: tyler.beane @gmail.com.
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