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:Idle Chatter" by Rev. Jillian Hankamer, Easter Sunday 4/20/2025

  • Writer: Northminster Church
    Northminster Church
  • Aug 12
  • 7 min read

A sermon for Northminster Church

Easter Sunday

Luke 24:1-12

 

“Let not a single witness be credited, but three, or two at the least, and those such whose testimony is confirmed by their good lives. But let not the testimony of women be admitted, on account of the levity and boldness of their sex…”[1]

            That is a quote from the first-century Jewish historian Josephus writing about “the requirement of two witnesses in Torah”[2] and expressing a commonly held and well-documented belief of the time, that because women are more emotional, we’re not as good at being witnesses as men. His contemporary, Philo of Alexandria, goes a step further when he explains that it’s wise for the Essenes - a sect of the time who lived separate from society - to be celibate because,

 “woman is a selfish creature and one addicted to jealousy in an immoderate degree, and terribly calculated to agitate and overturn the natural inclinations of a man, and to mislead him by continual tricks…”[3]

The quote continues, but doesn’t get better or change Philo’s main idea that women aren’t trustworthy due to our hardwired motivation to trick and mislead men. All of them. Everywhere. At all times. Without exception.

            Of course, we hear Josephus and Philo’s words, and though we might find them obnoxious, we are capable of understanding them in their historical context. But I share these quotes with you for a couple of reasons. First, to give you an idea of the disciples’ mindset when the women return from Jesus’ tomb and claim it’s empty. And second, so that we can consider what else would lead these men, these future apostles, to call the women’s words “idle chatter.”

            Because, as modern readers, particularly in a church that celebrates God’s call of women, it’s easy to condemn the male disciples. To regard the 11 as nothing more than “men of their time,” and therefore incapable of being anything but dismissive of women. After all, these aren’t women who’re unfamiliar to them; Luke tells us women have been part of Jesus’ ministry from the beginning. These men know these women well and have likely spent copious amounts of time with them. And we’re not talking about one or two women. No, Luke makes it clear long before this moment that there is an entire group of women who, through their ministry and sharing of their means, have kept this community of believers going.[4] For goodness' sake, James and John doubt their own mother in this story!

            As modern readers, we also have the benefit of knowing the women are right! That they’re the first prophets of God’s in-breaking Good News. That Easter doesn’t happen without them! But, before we roll our eyes at the male disciples, before we find them to be callous or sexist, let's be conscious that none of us would want to be remembered through history for our words and actions in the worst moments of our lives. For that’s what this morning still is for the 11, the worst and scariest moment of their lives.

            If they’ve even had time to process the events of the past week, these men are still in the stage of grief following trauma that doesn’t allow you to think much past the next breath you take. If they can wrap their minds around Jesus’ trial and execution, and that’s a big if, it’s doubtful that they can regard him as anything but the vibrant, passionate, energetic man they’ve devoted their lives to for the past 3 years. Their leader, their teacher, has been ripped away from them, and here, on this sabbath morning, none of these fragile souls has had time to grieve. And as Rev. Jeff Chu notes so achingly and accurately, “grief is liminal, not terminal.”[5] Grief is limbo, not death.

            Remember, too, that the women have had a heavenly encounter. Arriving as early as is reasonably possible after the Sabbath, the Greek here is orthrou/ὄρθρου batheos/βαθέως and can be translated as “deep dawn,” the women come to Jesus with spices. Their intent is to perform the mitzvah, the good deed, of preparing Jesus’ body for death. Jewish commentator Dr. Amy Robertson points out that in some ways this is the greatest mitzvah because it can’t be repaid.[6] But they find the stone rolled away and Jesus’ body gone.

Before they can do much more than wonder what has happened, two figures in blinding clothing appear and ask the women perhaps the most incredible question in scripture, “Why do you seek the living among the dead? Jesus is not here; he is risen!”

Instructed by these brilliant beings to remember Jesus' words, the terrified and cowering women recall that Jesus told them he would be handed over, crucified, and rise again on the third day. Realizing the miraculous thing that has happened, the women rush back to share this incredible revelation with the 11. Except…

Except it’s worth wondering if the women understand what’s happening.

Commentators Amy-Jill Levine and Ben Witherington III note “that tombs (as opposed to graves) sometimes contained valuable objects…therefore, when the women see the stone removed, their first thought is likely that a robbery has taken place.”[7]

We’re told by Luke that the women are told to “remember” by the angels. We can only assume they follow this instruction, but does their remembering come with understanding? Understanding that Jesus has been resurrected? That he was dead but is alive, full of the new life that God gifts to us all? That a new world has begun through this tangible, resurrected expression of God’s love?

 Or, as is more likely, do the women sense the enormity of this situation without understanding the myriad implications of it? Do they run, tripping over themselves, back to the rest of the disciples to share the news, not completely believing what they’ve seen? Knowing they didn’t make up the glowing visitors only because the other women saw them too? Do they practice their explanation of what’s just happened, understanding that no words will make this impossible situation fully believable?

Or do their grief-rattled brains make clear communication impossible, and so the story of what they’ve seen comes out as a messy jumble of voices talking all at once. Talking over each other. Chattering, at least to those who weren’t in the tomb, about a missing body and otherworldly visitors.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m tough on men in the biblical text and the phrase “idle chatter” sets my teeth on edge, but we must be mindful that the women’s words aren’t a systematic explanation of resurrection. They aren’t trying to be theologically cogent, they're trying to tell these men they’ve spent the last several years of life with what they’ve seen and heard. That somehow Jesus is alive again, or at least might not be dead. That they know this because heavenly beings reminded them Jesus said this would happen.

And while the men really should take them at their word, really should believe the women, they don’t have the benefit of an angelic encounter. Having not made the effort despite the risks of going to Jesus’ tomb, having not been present to see it empty, having not done the work of showing up on this Easter morning in the most important place in the world,  the male disciples are stuck. Stuck in the debilitation of fresh grief. Stuck in fear, stuck in loss, stuck believing the women’s words are nothing more than “idle chatter.” Or more accurately, “nonesense” or “the mutterings of the delirious.”[8]

            Dismissal is easier than acceptance. Anger costs less than understanding. The male disciples’ “incredulity feels so relatable…[because] in a world beset by so much sorrow, so much suffering, and so much heartbreak, a glimmer of good news can have such a hard time breaking through…gloom. A glimpse of beauty, a flash of loveliness, can feel like foolishness amidst so much bad news.”[9] And as too many of us know, it can be easier to retreat into despair than to do the hard work of walking and working through grief. That work, that change, simply putting one foot in front of the other can be so very costly. But “grief is liminal, not terminal.”[10]

And the reality of an empty tomb and a risen Jesus is change, for resurrection is change.

Resurrection is new life, a new thing coming into being, a rebirth full of labor, pain, energy, and effort of bringing a child into the world. Something new has been created, something that has never existed before.

 It’s unique but also heartbreakingly familiar, for it carries with it the reflection, the bone structure of the Holy Parent. Described in such terms, resurrection likely does sound like “idle chatter.” Mostly because such a messy combination of holiness and humanity that doesn’t make much sense can’t really be defined.

But such is the gospel and such is the life and death and new life of Christ. Messy and human and holy all at the same time because God loves us so much, she became one of us. And because of this love, grief doesn’t get the last word. Again, as commentator Jeff Chu says so well,

“Grief cannot become our everything. With memory, testimony, and time, we can recognize that…[grief] need not crowd out other truths: that we have loved and been loved. That we are not alone. That there is still hope in the land of the living.”[11]

My friends, the good news this morning is that “it’s… through death that we have resurrection.” It’s through change that resurrection can take place. It’s only through daring to remember Jesus' words and believe in an empty tomb that resurrection takes place.

 Resurrection takes showing up to do the work as the women did on that Easter morning so long ago. Resurrection takes being willing to untie ourselves from the comfort, or at least familiar territory of fear and grief, anger, and despair, to step into the change of Christ.

So this Easter, let us be people who embrace resurrection. Who aren’t paralyzed by grief but who show up ready to be changed. Let us be people who celebrate the idle chatter of a loving Savior who offers us life everlasting.

 

Jesus is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

           

 


[1] Josephus quoted by Richard Vinson in Smyth and Helwys Bible Commentary: Luke, pg. 743

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid, pg. 742.

[5] Rev. Jeff Chu, “Commentary on Luke 24:1-12,” Sanctified Art Everything In Between Sermon Planning Guide, pg. 33.

[6] BibleWorm Podcast, Episode 233 “Resurrection and Remembrance,” https://www.biblewormpodcast.com/e/episode-233-resurrection-and-remembrance-luke-241-12/

[7] Amy-Jill Levine and Ben Witherington III, The Gospel of Luke, pg. 650.

[8] Chu, ibid.

[9] Ibid, pg. 34.

[10] Ibid.

[11] Ibid.

 
 
 

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