The Clothes of Christ
by Rebecca Lister
So, our chocolate Easter bunnies and peeps have been hastily eaten. Our brightly colored eggs that were hidden so carefully have been discovered. We drank in the smell of our Easter lilies as we planted them. We sang our hearts out in “Christ the Lord is Risen Today, ALLELUIA!”
Now, it’s all over, and we’re faced with the long months ahead with seemingly nothing to look forward to. What do we do now? What is there to anticipate? I have no doubt that is exactly what the disciples were thinking in the aftermath of Jesus’s horrifying arrest, trial and crucifixion. All the joy they’d heard in the shouts of “Hosanna!” were long gone, replaced by the cries of “Crucify him!” They watched Jesus suffer, take his last breath, and be placed in a tomb. All hope was lost. Yet, God does some of his best work when there is no hope — in fact, God seems to like it that way, because then, God can demonstrate his ability to turn absolute desolation into unbridled elation. Somehow, God transformed a damp, musty tomb into a party.
Easter sermons have been built around various scriptures associated with the resurrection, all of which are wonderful—“But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away” (Mark 16:4). “He is not here; he has risen, just as he said” (Matt. 28:6). “Woman, why are you weeping?” (John 20:13).
All give me chills, but my favorite part of the story is found in John 20: Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself.
Yes, Jesus was gone, but the linen cloths so carefully wrapped around his body remained in the tomb. Some of them were rolled up and put aside, not tossed carelessly out of the way. There was a purpose to that gesture, a gesture that says no need for these any more, for they are the clothes of the dead. Time to find some more clothes and get to work.
I’ve always wondered where Jesus got his clothes after his resurrection, but I’ve decided it doesn’t really matter. After being risen from the dead, I think we can safely believe that God can do anything, even rustle up some clothes for Jesus. Now that the festive atmosphere of Easter is over, the real excitement truly begins—there is still much to look forward to.
There is work to be done, but it is work that we will share together arm-in-arm. It’s time to shed that burial clothing, and instead, “clothe yourselves with the new self, created according to the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (Ephesians 4). Let’s go—there’s good news to spread.
Rebecca Lister is an associate professor of music at Lebanon Valley College in Annville, Pennsylvania. Her passion is music and worship in churches. She has had several writings published in the academic field of music. 