The women were disbelieved by the men. I could say a lot about that, but I won’t. The men disciples were at best, confused. At least they had some idea that something crazy might have happened, though their brains couldn’t comprehend it. Peter, at least, looked at his doubts, and perhaps remembered some of Jesus’ words, and ran to the tomb. But the real moment of understanding came when Jesus walked with two of them on a road, and then appeared to all of them in a room. He showed them his hands and his feet so they could believe. He explained their own scriptures, especially the parts that pointed to this very moment. And they experienced joy beyond-belief. That’s the kind of joy that comes when you don’t need CNN-factoids to understand. What they knew for sure was that Jesus was here, that Jesus stomped over death, and that their worldview had taken a seismic shift.
Jesus asked those beloved women and men disciples to do one thing: to preach a change of heart and life for the forgiveness of sins to the world, but starting at home. Whoa! Starting at home? Really Jesus? That means I need to forgive mama, and uppity sister, and mean cousin? Start at home?
The good news is Jesus is alive and well, and our very own homes will go through a seismic transition from tolerance to deep binding love. The good news is that the good news is meant for me and mine as well as for everyone else in the world.
Sometimes we still don’t believe. But today, on this gorgeous Arizona Easter morning, I do believe! I can see my own transformation and I can see it in those I love and in those I don’t know too well. And I’m sure it matters to the world, and to me.
He has risen! He has risen indeed!