A sermon for Easter Sunday
April 5, 2026, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR
Readings: Acts 10:34-43; Colossians 3:1-4; John 20:1-18; Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24
“The kingdom of God just isn’t practical.” I was in a Bible study on the Beatitudes (you remember those–blessed are the poor, the mourning, the peacemakers, the persecuted) and someone said that. I didn’t know her. The facilitator asked her what she meant. She said, “Well, like I said, the kingdom of God just isn’t practical. If we took everything Jesus said seriously, we would be taken advantage of left and right.” She continued, “If we forgave everyone, we would be run over. If we turned the other cheek, we would just have two bruised cheeks. It’s a dog-eat-dog world, we can’t be like lambs. It just isn’t practical.” My classmate was so sure. Jesus had given us an ideal, but the world isn’t like that.
She’s not so wrong, my classmate. There can be something rather impractical about following Jesus. There is something rather impractical about taking his teaching seriously. There is something impractical about this kingdom of God business when we live in the world we live in today. It is difficult to be meek, to be peacemakers, to be compassionate and just, to be loving. You will be taken advantage of. You will be hurt. But Jesus himself warned us: We are sent like lambs into the midst of wolves. That’s what he said. This kingdom of God, sometimes, seems like an impractical kingdom.
Maybe some of that was in St. Mary Magdalene’s thoughts. The gospel of John tells us she goes to the tomb early, while it is still dark. We don’t know what she was thinking. We know she is mourning. We know her face is tear-streaked, her eyes are puffy with grief. We know she’s at her limit. She had just seen her Lord, her teacher, her friend crucified and humiliated and tortured and executed. Maybe she was thinking, on that long walk in the dark–maybe she was thinking: “Yeah, he taught forgiveness, but I can’t forgive today.” I’ve said that before, too. “Yeah, he said turn the other cheek, but that didn’t work out too well for him.” I’ve said that before, too. “Yeah, he said he would drive out the powers of evil, but he must not have known they were strong enough to kill him.” I think I would be with Mary. In our worldly calculation, in our human way of figuring, the kingdom of God seems to be a losing kingdom, or at the very least impractical. Maybe my classmate was right.
It’s tempting to think as much in our world today. Violence is the norm, and peace seems like a naive dream. It’s impractical. The world is cruel, and forgiveness seems like the weak way out. It’s impractical. Only the strong survive, we say, and the meek are devoured. It’s impractical. That’s just the way the world is, we say, and the kingdom of God is an ideal. It’s impractical.
Isn’t it funny, though? We assume the things of God are impractical. But the ways of sin and death–that’s just how it is. We assume the gospel is impractical. But violence and pain and sorrow and grief–that’s just the way things are. We assume Jesus is an idealist. But when it comes to evil, even the Devil himself–well, it’s a dog-eat-dog world, what more can we say? Isn’t it funny how we come to think of the things of God as impractical and impossible and out of this world, instead of seeing that our way, our way of sin and death, is what has distorted everything and left us bound in graves of despair and fear and cynicism and hatred and sin.
Mary comes to the tomb. It’s empty. She runs to get the disciples. Peter and the disciple whom Jesus loved show up and see the empty tomb, then they leave Mary Magdalene behind with her tears. She looks in the tomb once more. We have heard these words. “Why do you search for the living among the dead? He is not here, he has risen.” The angels speak in such a matter-of-fact way, suggesting they are surprised that anyone would be looking at all? It’s almost as if they are saying–why do you expect death to win? It’s impractical. Why do you expect sin and evil to win? It’s impractical. How could you not know that God would win in the end? What could be more impractical than that?
Easter proclaims that Christ is alive–he is alive even now. And those things we thought were set in stone–things like death and sin and the victory of evil–those things we thought were irrefutable, those things find themselves on the losing side of the equation. And what wins? Those things we think are so impractical. Things like forgiveness overcoming estrangement; grace overcoming sin; love overcoming fear; peace overcoming war; healing overcoming woundedness; life overcoming death. These things we once thought were so impractical, even impossible, must be the truest version of reality, must be at the heart of things, for Christ stands victorious in his resurrection.
And he calls us to live that way–to be witnesses of his resurrection. To be a witness doesn’t only mean to tell the story we hear year after year, and then go about with our normal routines and ways of living. No, to be a witness means to live in this world differently. To live by a different set of rules. To live in that impractical kingdom of God so often dismissed by the world, for only the kingdom of God will win in the end.
As witnesses, we live in grace, knowing that the forgiveness of God covers our sin and heals our shame and makes us whole. As witnesses, we live in faith, putting our trust in the One who rose again and conquered the power of sin and death, who says today that those things have no power over the children of God. As witnesses we live in hope, knowing that we have been marked as Christ’s own forever, and that God is making all things new, even right now. As witnesses, we live in love, knowing that fear and violence and hatred and division do not get the last word, but only the Risen One who calls us each by name. We are witnesses of an impractical kingdom, but it’s the kingdom that wins in the end.
My friends: Christ is risen, indeed. And sin, evil, death, and hell have all been defeated. Now go live like it.
Storied Grace 