“But the angel answered and said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for He is risen, as He said.'” (Matthew 28:5-6)
You know about the kind of suitcase that has four wheels attached to the bottom, enabling you to push its weight along with hardly any effort? Several years ago, I went on a trip with two heavy suitcases, neither of which had wheels. I think I was the only one in the airport with wheel-less luggage. Not only did I stick out like a sore thumb, but the twenty-minute walk to my gate nearly pulled my arms out of their sockets. I decided then and there that I needed luggage with wheels. So I made the purchase, and the result has been quite liberating.
Does your suitcase have wheels? Not the kind of suitcase you take to the airport, but the kind we often lug around in our day-to-day lives? You know the one. It’s that suitcase filled with worry, depression, loneliness, confusion, and, worst of all, the crushing weight of guilt.
In the verses above we see certain women making their way to Jesus’ tomb, each one carrying a heavy suitcase of grief and sorrow. What did they find when they arrived? A rolled away stone, an empty grave, and an angel with a message! “Why do you look for the living among the dead! He is not here; He has risen! It’s just as He told you!” Jesus had risen, and with His resurrection an unbearable weight was lifted off their hearts and lives!
Imagine if you could have been there in that tomb with Jesus in the early hours of that blessed morning. At some point, in the still darkness, you would have heard a deep and sudden intake of air. A first breath! A return to life! A breath that set the world free from the crushing load of sin, and the terrible weight of impending death and judgment. It was a breath that brought real hope to a lost and fallen world.
Our Easter hope is nothing like the kind of hope the world is peddling. All earthly hopes will eventually let us down. Governments disappoint, loved ones die, our best laid plans come to nothing, and the cemetery awaits us all. No earthly prop can relieve us of the burden of sin and the many sorrows that result from sin.
Our hope in Christ is utterly different. In 1 Peter we read that God “has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you.” (1:3-4 ESV) In Romans, the Spirit assures us that our hope in Christ “does not disappoint.” (5:5) In Philippians we read the thrilling comfort that “our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body that it may be conformed to His glorious body.” ( 3:20-21)
With the threat of death and hell forever removed from our lives, with the promise that our bodies will one day be raised and glorified, with an inheritance of endless joy awaiting us, what in this world can really weigh us down? I can’t think of anything, can you? So, the next time you’re in an airport pushing your wheel-equipped luggage so effortlessly, remember how your hope in Christ is certain, guaranteed, and wonderfully liberating.
"In Christ alone my hope is found; He is my light, my strength my song; This Cornerstone, this solid ground, Firm through the fiercest drought and storm. What heights of love, what depths of peace, When fears are stilled, when strivings cease! My Comforter, My All in All; Here in the love of Christ I stand." (O Sing of Christ, 413:1)
is pastor of Gethsemane Lutheran Church in Saginaw, Michigan, and president of the Church of the Lutheran Confession.