CHRIST COLLIDES
WITH DEATH
Luke 24:1-12 Pastor Calvary deJong
Easter Sunday, April 20, 2025
Introduction: A Choc-apocalypse
What comes to mind when you think about Easter? When I was a kid, Easter meant church in the morning—but let’s be honest, I was mostly focused on the candy waiting afterward. My family would then head to a big family gathering, and I knew exactly what was coming: a full-blown candy apocalypse. Cadbury Mini Eggs, chocolate bunnies—you name it. One year, I ate so much chocolate that we had to stop the truck on the way home—let’s just say it was not my most glorious moment. Back then, Easter was mostly about what was in the basket. But over time—and especially as I’ve grown in my faith—it’s become much more about what’s in the heart.
This year for Lent, I gave up two things I love: Coke and Frappuccinos. Not because they’re inherently bad, but because even good things can crowd out space that belongs to God. My boys thought it was hilarious. “Dad,” they said, “how are you going to survive?” Honestly, the first few days were rough. But Lent isn’t about deprivation for its own sake. It’s about preparation. It’s about making space to remember—and to reawaken to what matters. Maybe you’re skeptical, or hurting, or just curious. Whatever brought you here, I believe Easter isn’t just a story to admire—it’s an invitation to experience something real.
Scene One: The Women at the Tomb (Luke 24:1–5)
Luke tells us that on the first day of the week, very early in the morning, a group of women came to the tomb where Jesus had been buried. They had witnessed his death. They had seen the stone rolled into place. They were coming to perform a final act of love and devotion—anointing his body with spices. But when they arrived, they found the stone rolled away. The tomb was open—and empty.
Then two angels appeared beside them and asked a question that still echoes today: “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”This is not a metaphor. Luke doesn’t present this as poetry or a parable. He presents it as history. In fact, at the beginning of his Gospel, Luke says he “carefully investigated everything from the beginning” so that his readers could know the certainty of what they’ve been taught (Luke 1:3–4). Luke is telling us something happened. Something unexpected. Something that changed the trajectory of the world.
Scene Two: The Son of Man Remembered (Luke 24:6–8)
The angels remind the women, “Remember how he told you… that the Son of Man must be delivered to sinners, be crucified, and on the third day be raised again.” That title—Son of Man—is the interpretive key. It comes from Daniel 7, where a divine figure rides the clouds and is given glory, authority, and a kingdom that will never end. Jesus used this title over 25 times in
Luke’s Gospel. Not just to describe who Jesus was, but to frame everything he came to do. And now, the women begin to see the thread. The teachings. The miracles. The suffering. It all points here. Jesus is not just a good teacher or a compassionate prophet. He is the Son of Man—the One who suffers, dies, and rises to rule. His kingdom doesn’t rise by domination, but by sacrificial love. His power is revealed in weakness. His victory comes through a cross.
Scene Three: Witnesses Who Weren’t Supposed to Count (Luke 24:9–12)
In the ancient world, women were not considered reliable witnesses. Their testimony wasn’t admissible in court. So if someone were fabricating a resurrection story, they would never write it this way. But God does. But in all four Gospels, it’s the women who discover the empty tomb. And when they tell the disciples, their words are dismissed as nonsense. Except for Peter. He doesn’t fully understand it, but he runs. He runs toward the tomb. Toward possibility. Toward hope. Maybe that’s where you are today. Not certain. Not settled. But drawn. You don’t have to have it all figured out. Peter didn’t. But he ran towards the resurrection. And maybe that’s the invitation for you, too.
The Invitation of Easter
So let me ask: what are you looking for this Easter? Peace? Clarity? Purpose? Healing? That same angelic question still speaks to us: Why do you look for the living among the dead? You won’t find resurrection life in old routines or broken systems. Not in nostalgia or just “going through the motions.” You’ll find it in the risen Jesus—who still calls people by name. Who still walks with the weary. Who still meets us at the tomb and turns grief into joy. N.T. Wright puts it this way: “The message of Easter is that God’s new world has been unveiled in Jesus Christ—and you are now invited to belong to it.” That invitation is for you. Not when you’re perfect, but right now.
We Are a Resurrection People
And this invitation isn’t just personal—it’s communal. It changes who we are together. We’re not just people who admire Jesus. We’re people who follow him. People who trust that the same power that raised Christ from the dead is at work in us, too. We live in a world that often feels tired. Divided. Cynical. But resurrection means we don’t have to settle for decline or despair. We don’t have to live like our best days are behind us. Because Jesus lives, the story isn’t over. If God can raise the dead, he can renew a family. Restore a heart. Revive a church. Let’s be a resurrection people:
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Who believe again.
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Who pray again.
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Who serve and love boldly again.
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Who live like the tomb is empty—because it is.
Let’s not look for life in dead places. Let’s walk in step with the risen One.
Christ is risen. He is risen indeed.