Easter Sunday 2026

Acts 10.34-43; John 20.1-18

In the name of God, creating, redeeming and transforming. Amen.

Newton's third law of motion states that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

When applied to the physical world around us, Newton’s third law has helped us to understand the mechanics of motion, why things move in the way they do. Newton’s laws of motion have been an immensely important moment in the development of science that has unlocked our understanding of the world around us. But at times we can believe, and act, as if that law describes not just the physical world around us, but our interactions as human beings. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

We gather today, however, as those remade in the power of resurrection, in the faith that in the realm of the human spirit, Newtonian mechanics do not apply. For in reaction to violence, Jesus practised forgiveness. In reaction to suffering and degradation, Jesus lived out hope. In the face of desertion and abandonment, Jesus kept faith and now rises to restore relationship where it had been broken. And through death, Jesus journeys on, into resurrection life. In the realm of the human spirit, the resurrection which we celebrate this day reveals the truth that our interactions, our common life together, is not governed by unchangeable laws. Every action need not provoke an equal and opposite reaction: the resurrection is witness to the power that remakes relationships, the power which means we need not simply mirror that which is done to us. That freedom, to respond, to react in love, and faith and hope, is what we celebrate this day, is the gift we are given today.

It’s abundantly and heartbreakingly clear that in our world. among some in positions of power particularly, there is a belief that we should respond to violence by fighting back; that our freedom is that which we need to protect by waging war on all that appears to threaten it. That violence is the means to the solution to our struggles. For every action there must be an equal and opposite reaction, at the very least. But the gift of resurrection is the faith that reconciliation is the purpose and end of all things; that our deepest longing and calling and freedom and joy is in the reconciliation of all that has been broken apart. We are not trapped for ever in an unbending rule that pits us against our neighbours: for not every action leads to an equal and opposite reaction – the mystery and wonder and surprise of Christ’s resurrection witnesses to that.

Let me be clear: I am not suggesting that the world described by science is in opposition to the world of faith. That somehow science and religion are forever in combat for truth. But the power of science to describe our world underpins and exacerbates our temptation to apply its rules where they do not belong. To reduce our humanity to the status of a machine; or our consciousness to artificial intelligence. We are so much more than that. And the resurrection is the gift that reveals that we are.

There are other laws offered to describe human behaviour. Economists sometimes tell us that the human realm is governed by the law of self-interest. That we act as we do in the interests of self-preservation, of maintaining what is me and mine. A man walking to his death, death on a cross, who has no interest in self-preservation, makes no sense to economists. But that same walk of faith, and forgiving love, is revealed this day, to be a walk into freedom. What we understand as being me and mine has been broken open by the gift of resurrection. The resurrection is a foretaste, a gift of that future reconciled creation where the barriers of estrangement, and violence, and death are overcome. A gift that widens our understanding of what is me and mine, so that what is me and mine now includes you all, it includes our neighbours, strangers, even all creation. We, the church are that new community established in the power of the resurrection to live out a wider understanding of what we now see to be me and mine. To liberate us from too narrow an understanding, and a fearful protection, of what is me and mine. To cherish all creation, for it is me and mine.

So we don't have to go out from here in the belief that every human being has a name, a history and a potential, but in the power of the resurrection, we can.

We don’t have to have to go out from here in the faith that strangers are friends in waiting; but in the power of the resurrection, we can.

We don’t have to go out from here to stand in solidarity with those who suffer violence at the hands of the more powerful, but in the power of the resurrection, we can.

We don't have to give of our time and talents and money and effort to create communities of those who forgive because they know themselves forgiven, but in the power of the resurrection, we can.

We don’t have to go out from here cherishing all people and things as gifts of God, part of an unfolding creation, imperilled and yet precious; but in the power and hope of the resurrection, we can.

And we are lifted into that resurrection joy and faith, not by dramatic announcements from on high, for God does not compel our obedience to a new law. We are lifted into joy by attending to news of a meeting in the quiet of dawn. A gardener, with sleeves rolled up, and work to do, is re-creating the garden that is the good earth. And there he meets a grieving woman. “Woman, why are you grieving?” he asks. And then he, the crucified and risen one, names her, “Mary”, and she is lifted into that new creation the gardener is making possible.

That quiet coming in forgiving presence makes all the difference. Christ’s forgiving presence witnesses that the wounds we inflict on ourselves and each other are not the end. Encompassing them, stretching out to span the gulf our sins have made, is the forgiving, unquenchable love of God. And nothing is beyond the reach of that love – not you, not me, not our families and neighbours, our nation, our church, our world. To all and each Christ comes, offering his forgiving presence. You will not escape the wounds, but they need not be the final word, or what defines us, motivates and shapes us. Life and hope lie deeper. We are free.

And so we too are lifted, through wonder and mystery and praise, out of the old order of sin and death and inanimate things, where rules govern our behaviour, and into that new creation which is God’s promise and will for all; to live in freedom, animated by that transforming Spirit of God that breaks down the barriers which divide us. And that is our resurrection joy and hope.

Christ is Risen. He is risen indeed. Alleluia.