Matthew 28:11-15

While they were going, some of the guard went into the city and told the chief priests everything that had happened. After the priests had assembled with the elders, they devised a plan to give a large sum of money to the soldiers, telling them, ‘You must say, “His disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep.” If this comes to the governor’s ears, we will satisfy him and keep you out of trouble.’ So they took the money and did as they were directed. And this story is still told among the Jews to this day.

This is the end of the plot line Matthew has narrated about the guards and chief priests. You may recall that it started at the close of the crucifixion story when the chief priests first approached Pilate with the request of guarding Jesus’ tomb lest his disciples steal his body and claim he was raised. Pilate told them to see to it themselves, and so they not only placed a guard but also sealed the tomb shut.

This twist in the story – unique to Matthew – served two plot functions. First, it set up the triumph of Easter even more profoundly – out best attempts to seal off or shut down God’s plans for redemption are futile. An angel descends, easily rolling away the stone, and the guards faint in terror. That narrative outcome is rather dramatic.

The second outcome, however, is more tragic, in that it witnesses to the rift between Matthew’s community and the Jewish community from which they came. The chief priests and Pharisees have been portrayed throughout Matthew’s gospel in fairly harsh terms and the end of their appearance in the story is no different. Foiled in their attempts to prevent Jesus’ resurrection and eager to suppress news of it, they pay off the guards, tell them to lie, and cover up their plans and plots along the way.

It’s not a pretty picture. Not just off the characters in the story but of the likely pain and conflict Matthew’s community felt in relation to persons who probably once were friends and neighbors. And that rift and pain has haunted Christians and Jews through the centuries.

The key line, of course, is the last one: “And this story is still told among the Jews to this day.” It’s likely that that was, indeed, the case. Some in the Jewish community, countering the claims of Matthew’s congregation that Jesus is God’s crucified and risen Messiah, perhaps suggested or even accused that they made up the story and stole his body. And so Matthew addresses those charges by placing them – and dealing with them – in his story.

But here’s the thing: resurrection, in the end, isn’t something you can prove or disprove any more than you can the existence of God, the power of prayer, or any other matter of faith. You can confess it, but not prove it. By and large, Matthew knows that. And so the treasure in Matthew’s Gospel is finally not this narrative twist but rather the confession that came before – “do not fear; he has been raised” – and the invitation that is about to furnish both the climax to Matthew’s story and the beginning of our own.

Prayer: Dear God, heal the division and pain too often felt between Christians and Jews and remind us that you came in Jesus to make known your love for all people. In Jesus’ name, Amen.