Resurrection of the Lord, March 31, 2013 – Luke 24:1-12

Two poems again this week, one of mine, and a bonus at the end.

The chances of finding that Higgs boson
Were way less than one in a trillion,
Which is a big number, as I learned recently
At Boston's Museum of Natural Science;
I mean, a tube of a trillion of the nano-beads they were displaying,
Next to other tubes of a thousand, a million, and even a billion,
Would  have gone through the stories-high roof;
So what are the chances of someone rising from the dead?
About as small as the Big Bang itself?
I really can't wrap my mind around it.
What - or who? - can convince us of such against-all-odds love?
Look at the numbers in this text:
"On the first day of the week,"
"Suddenly two men in dazzling clothes,"
"On the third day rise again,"
"They told this to the eleven and all the rest!"
The news of such love multiplies;
The chances are minute,
But resurrection goes out to the whole world,
It will not be stopped, it'll go through the roof;
And I, like Peter, am amazed
At what has happened -
And what, by God, still can.

Scott L. Barton

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.” Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. 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.


Bonus poem:  My daughter reminded me of this favorite poem of ours and others in our family by my late friend, Thomas John Carlisle.  I think of it every Easter:

Love does not end,
As all else must,
Does not surrender
To the storm or to the dust,
Endures although endangered,
Wounded, yet will heal,
Adamant as diamonds,
Stubborn as steel.

Thomas John Carlisle