On the Way, They Met Him

Texts: Acts 10:34-43 and Matthew 28:1-10

Today, the Church gives us the great Easter shout: Alleluia! Christ is risen!

 And that is true.

But if we pay attention to the story itself, Easter does not begin with a shout. It begins with grief. It begins with fear. It begins with women going to a tomb, not to celebrate a miracle, but to tend to a death.

No one is expecting resurrection.

The women are not heading to the tomb thinking, “Maybe Jesus is alive after all.” They are going because someone they loved has died. The disciples are hiding. And the rest of the world has already moved on.

That matters.

Because our tendency is to hear Easter as if it arrived in a burst of certainty — as if everyone knew what was happening, as if faith means having it all figured out.

But that is not the story told in the Gospel.

The Easter story begins where most of us actually live: with grief, fear, confusion, and love that does not yet know what to do except take the next step.

And that is where the women are.

They go to the tomb. And there, the first word spoken to them is not explanation, doctrine, or even celebration.

It is: Do not be afraid.

Then: Come and see.

And then: Go and tell.

That is the rhythm of Easter: do not be afraid, come and see, go and tell.

And here is the detail that matters most: the women do not meet the risen Christ while standing still at the tomb. They meet him as they go. As they go to tell the disciples, Jesus meets them on the way.

That is Easter.

Because that is how resurrection becomes real in our lives.

Most people do not get clarity first. Most people do not get certainty first. Most people do not get all their questions answered before they move.

They simply take the next step.

And somewhere on the way, they realize they have been met.

That is true in grief. That is true in healing. That is true in forgiveness. That is true in faith.

We take the next step. And somewhere on our way, Christ meets us.

That is what keeps Easter real. That is what keeps it from becoming a yearly remembrance of some strange event that happened to Jesus a long time ago.

Resurrection happens in lived life.

It happens when someone takes the next step after loss. It happens when someone dares to trust again. It happens when someone chooses mercy over bitterness, truth over hiding, love over self-protection.

And then notice Jesus’ words to the women: “Go to my brothers.”

That is Easter too.

Easter begins with reconciliation.

Not accusation. Not payback. Not, “Go tell those useless disciples they really blew it.”

No — go to my brothers.

That is good news.

Because it means Easter is not a reward for people who got everything right. It is grace for those who lost heart. It is mercy for those who ran away. It is hope for those who think they have missed their chance.

It means Easter is possible even for us.

Even when we deny. Even when we hide. Even when we lose courage. Even when we have made a mess of things.

And in Acts, notice who is speaking: Peter.

The one who denied Jesus.

The one who gave in to fear.

The one who cowered behind locked doors.

Now he stands and speaks as a witness.

That is resurrection fruit.

That is what Easter does. Fearful people become witnesses. Wounded people become messengers. Lives that were closed in on themselves begin to open outward.

And Peter does not just talk about Jesus’ death and resurrection. He talks about Jesus’ life — how he lived. Jesus went about doing good. Healing. Blessing. Revealing the presence of God. And when the powers killed him, God raised him.

In other words, Easter is God’s yes to the life Jesus lived.

God’s yes to love.

God’s yes to compassion.

God’s yes to mercy.

God’s yes to truth.

God’s yes to a way of being human that the world tried to silence.

That is what resurrection means.

Not simply that something happened to Jesus long ago, but that the way of Jesus is vindicated. That love is stronger than fear. That mercy is stronger than shame. That life is deeper than death.

And that matters because we all know places in our lives that feel tomb-like: places of grief, fear, endings, and hiding.

Easter does not pretend those places are not real.

Easter meets us there.

And says: do not be afraid. Come and see. Go and tell.

Take the next step.

Not because you have it all figured out. Not because your fear is gone. Not because your grief has vanished. Not because you have finally become one of those shiny, spiritually impressive people — and honestly, God help us from becoming that.

But because God’s life is already at work. Because reconciliation is still possible. Because love has not given up on you. Because Christ still meets people on the way.

So maybe that is the word for us this Easter:

Easter is not given to those who have it all figured out.

It is given to those who, in the midst of grief and fear, are willing to take the next step — and discover that Christ is already present.