Hey friends, welcome back to the Semiseminarium,
where theology sounds like late night radio and
smells faintly of sawdust and resurrection. I'm
your buddy Pastor Jim, and tonight, well... Tonight,
we're not passing the plate or tuning the piano.
We're opening the crypt. See, the story we're
diving into ain't one they cover in Sunday school,
at least not unless your teacher had a thing
for ghost stories and unexplained holiness. This
tale doesn't get flannel -graphed. It gets whispered
like gospel over a campfire, like static from
a far -off station, too clear to ignore and too
strange to forget. Matthew chapter 27 verses
52 -53 says that when Jesus gave up his spirit,
the veil in the temple tore top to bottom. The
earth quaked. Tombs cracked open. And then, days
later at his resurrection, the dead saints got
up and walked into town. You heard that right.
Old saints. Buried long ago. Raised from the
dead. And just strolling into Jerusalem like
the opening scene of a holy horror flick. But
this ain't the walking dead. This is the walking
redeemed. These were folks who died with their
hope in God. And when Jesus broke the back of
death, their graves couldn't stay closed any
longer. They were the preview, the trailer. A
foreshadowing of what's promised to all of us
who die in faith. So tonight, we're going to
sit a spell with the bones. We're going to ask
what it means when even the grave starts shaking
at the name of Jesus. And we're going to wonder
out loud. Maybe some of us saints ain't been
buried by dirt so much as by despair. And if
so, maybe tonight's the night we get up. So go
on, turn with me, Matthew 27, verses 50 through
53. Let's walk with the dead who wouldn't stay
buried. I'll see you on the other side. Well,
I'm going to begin. I have sometimes, not always,
sometimes I have one that I'm like really excited
to do. I like, I read it over and I think. all
right, this is going to be so much fun. And I'm
like, how can I describe that anticipation in
a way that you guys might relate to? And I'm
like, I can't think of it, but like, maybe this
will, I have the anticipation of like, right
before I walked into Mazio's, you know, when
I'm about to get Mazio's pizza buffet, that excitement
about what's about to happen. That's how I feel.
Right. So. There are stories in the Bible that
reveal a lot about the reality of God in a very
real world. Sometimes, while chock full of truth
and grace and beauty, they often will leave us
with more questions than answers. And those stories
rarely get talked about because... I suspect
the preachers just don't like to say, I don't
know the answer. But I have no shame. I don't
mind saying I don't know all the answers at all.
So let's jump in this one together. Pull up a
chair, friends. Lean in close because tonight's
story is not the kind of story that they teach
at VBS. Not on a felt board. It's not on Easter
greeting cards. And it sure. does not end with
a bow tied neatly around it. This is a story,
sounds like it wandered in from the edge of a
folk horror tale, but it's in the gospel, and
it's very real. Heading straight into the shadows
of Good Friday, not to just sit beneath the cross,
but to watch what happens around it. Because
when Jesus breathes his last, The whole world
responds. And not just with wind and thunder,
with graves breaking open, with dead getting
up. Now, I know all you good people know your
Bible front to back. But let's take it slow and
let's listen to it like someone who's never heard
this before. It's Matthew chapter 27. And it's
just four verses, 50 through 53. Then Jesus cried
again with a loud voice and breathed his last.
At that moment, the curtain of the temple tore
in two, top to bottom. The earth shook and the
rocks were split. Tombs also were opened and
many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep
were raised. After his resurrection, they came
out of their tombs and entered the holy city,
appearing to many. Now, we are going to stop
so we don't rush past what we just heard in the
Bible. That's not filler. That's not metaphor.
That's not a hallmark resurrection glow. That
is bodies of the saints, righteous dead people,
raised to life and walking around Jerusalem.
Imagine the sound of those tombs breaking open.
Imagine the sight, someone's great -grandmother
stepping across the threshold with dirt under
her fingernails and light in her eyes. And imagine
the words spreading like wildfire throughout
the city streets. I saw Ezekiel. No, I'm serious.
He walked past the temple. He looked right at
me and called me by name. And Matthew just drops
this off here. No names. No follow -up to the
story. No post -resurrection tour. It's like
it's a sacred ghost story stitched into the fabric
of the gospel. So what's going on here? Why would
Matthew include this story when none of the other
gospel accounts do? And what does this story
mean for us today? Well, let me start off with
who were the saints? Before we dive deeper, Let's
take a quick look at that word, saints. In Greek,
it's hegeos. Hegeos. And hegeos pops up all over
the New Testament. It's the exact same word Paul
uses to describe everyday believers, early Christians
in Rome, in Corinth, in Ephesus, in Philippi,
ordinary people, made holy, hegeos, by God's
call. It's the word also in the New Testament
for Holy Spirit, hegeos pneuma, for the Holy
Scriptures, for the Holy Temple, for the holy
calling on your life. So when Matthew uses hegeos
here, he's not just talking about maybe the famous
prophets who have a book in Hebrew Scripture.
He's actually pointing to the ordinary, everyday
faithful, the set -apart ones. who died still
clinging to God's promise. And they weren't ghosts.
They were covenant keepers. They were people.
These are old covenant people, okay? But these
are people who trusted that the story of God
is not over, even though the story of their life
is. And when Jesus tore the veil, and death flinched.
These were the first to sit up and say, told
you so. Let's start with the text. Many bodies
of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised.
Again, in Greek, hegeos, saints, referring to
holy ones, the faithful or righteous dead. They
weren't just also, they weren't just anonymous
souls or spirits or cartoon Casper ghosts, right?
Floating upwards. They were bodies, once buried,
now breathing again. Who were they? We're not
told. But the context calls us to imagine prophets,
elders, anonymous faithful women and men who
lived under the old covenant in anticipation
of a day like this to come. It just didn't come
during their earthly lifetime. Abraham's descendants,
Hannah's sisters, Isaiah's colleagues, people
who trusted Yahweh, longed for his coming, and
now find themselves walking down the streets
of Jerusalem again. Now, question I had, why
just then? I mean, Why them and not everyone?
Because this isn't the final resurrection. This
is just the first ripple. It is the opening note
of a song that ends eventually with every grade
being undone. This resurrection is a sign of
things to come, a not yet conclusion. They rose
to bear witness to something, not to themselves,
but to him, to be living proof that Jesus didn't
just conquer death personally. This, friends,
is like Discipleship 101. This is Jesus ABCs,
okay? One of the things we learn we need to understand
early on is that, The story of Jesus' resurrection
isn't just a really neat story about one dude.
It's that power that raised him is now inside
of every other dude and dudette. Right? So, he
cracked open this grave for them to show. that
eventually the grave will be cracked open for
everyone else as well. Now, slowly, the graves
opened at his death. When did he die? Friday.
But they waited to walk until his resurrection,
because he is the firstborn from the dead. He
is the new Adam, the pioneer of new life. Again,
this was a select resurrection, not a universal
one. Just as Moses seeing the burning bush, Elijah
hearing the still small voice, right? Those were
singular events. They were but glimpses of God's
real power. The Bible then says they entered
the holy city and appeared to many, which means
people saw and no doubt people remembered. So,
what is the theological fallout of all this?
Well, Jesus cries out and breathes his last.
In that last moment, Heaven and earth start breaking
protocol. The curtain in the temple that separated
us from the holy of holies, torn from top to
bottom. And that's not by coincidence. That's
God himself ripping the veil apart, saying access
is now granted. The division between sacred and
secular. Priest and people, presence and absence,
gone. And then the earth shakes. But it's not
just any earthquake. It's like the whole world
groaning in real time. Like the very ground under
our feet knows something cosmic. has just shifted.
The tectonic sin and separation are breaking
loose. This passage, four verses in Matthew 27,
is one of the most haunting and holy cracks in
Scripture, where the veil tears, the earthquakes,
and the dead rise in silence. Now, like I said,
right, I don't have all of this explainable because
this isn't news reporting. This is revelation.
Matthew, writing with apocalyptic imagination,
shows us that Jesus' death does not signal the
end of a life, signal the end of the world as
it once was. The curtain of the temple ripped
open, creation convulsed, and the tombs of the
righteous cracked, not as a sideshow, not as
some magic trick, but as a sign that death has
been bethroned. The saints don't speak. Their
names aren't given. Because this moment isn't...
About them. It's about what Jesus' death now
makes possible. The unsealing of all that binds
us up. And the detail that they walk into Jerusalem,
that's Matthew's way of saying, Jesus isn't just
the crucified one. He is the forerunner to freedom.
The first arrives, leading a jailbreak. from
the grave so when we read this passage we don't
need to explain it as much as let it shake us
because the truth of it is some of us aren't
dead but we've already been buried and this scene
reminds us that the same breath that left christ's
body could still rattle graves call the dead
to walk Then the quiet balm of the verse. Tombs
also opened and many bodies of saints who had
fallen asleep were raised. Notice again the phrasing.
The tombs open at the moment of Jesus' death.
Don't walk out after his resurrection. It's like
their graves were unlocked, unsealed, but ready.
And they waited. Because even in resurrection,
Jesus leads. He's not just a participant. He's
the firstborn amongst the dead. Colossians 1
and 18. He doesn't just escape death. He cracks
the foundation of death. And when he walks out,
he brings others with him. Now, what would that
have meant? I love doing historical context.
That's my jam, right? So I can't help have to
force you to now too. You're here. Imagine the
implications. What does it mean to live in a
world where Jesus' death not only tore a veil
but opened up graves? What does it mean to the
people who saw someone they buried walking again?
Did they run? Did they fall down? Did they embrace?
Did they believe? And here's the haunting truth.
We don't know. It's not in there. Matthew doesn't
tell us what happened next. Maybe that's the
point. Maybe the question isn't what happened
to them. Maybe it's what happens to us once we
know tombs have been opened. Because that detail
isn't just some freaky Bible nerd side note.
It's the gospel on full display. Jesus dies and
death loses jurisdiction. Jesus rises, other
graves shake loose. Jesus enters hell, the dead
start dreaming again. And that's not hyperbole.
That's eschological foreshadowing. What? That's
heavenly thinking. That's theological fireworks.
That's a holy jailbreak. And it begs the question,
or it should, what tombs are we still lying in?
But Jesus is already open for us. We talk about
resurrection like it's a future hope. But Matthew
reminds us it's in the present tense. You don't
have to stay buried in things that... Jesus conquered
a long time ago. You don't have to keep hiding
your shame. You don't have to walk around like
the cross almost worked. He didn't rise alone,
and he's still calling people from the dust.
Just imagine. What would have been like if resurrection
broke out around us today? What if folks we thought
were long gone, spiritually dead, relationally
buried, emotionally embalmed, what if they showed
up again, full of life and new breath, right
in the middle of your normal? Would we welcome
them or fear them? Would we believe it or run
the other way? What if you're the one called
to walk back into someone's holy city, your family,
your church, your friend group, and be that sign
that grace still raises people from the dead?
Maybe you're not the one still buried. Maybe
you're the testimony someone else is just waiting
to see. Matthew never tells us what happens to
the resurrected saints and what they said. Maybe
they didn't need to say anything. Maybe it was
just enough to show up a lot. You can do that
too. In fact, maybe you already have. Maybe someone
saw you walk out of your own spiritual grave
and thought, I didn't think anyone could survive
that. And maybe that's how resurrection still
spreads. But before we close tonight, sit with
this. If you had been in Jerusalem that day and
you saw someone you loved, someone long gone,
walk through your doorway, what would you do?
Would you fall to your knees, wrap them in your
arms? Would you shout for joy or crumble in disbelief?
And now let's bring it in closer. What if someone
sees you tomorrow and they can't believe you're
still standing? What if your healing is what
convinces someone else that Jesus is still cracking
open the tombs of the dead? Because we are resurrection
people. Now, that doesn't mean we always feel
triumphant. It means we carry the memory of death.
and the miracle of breath in the same body. We
remember the earthquake even after the dust settles.
We live torn veil lives, open to God, open to
others, and open to the strange, beautiful possibility
that today might be the day the dead come home.
So tonight, don't just remember the cross. Remember
the quake. Remember the veil. Remember those
graves splitting open? And no, that wasn't just
a moment. That, friends, was the beginning of
a movement. Because Jesus didn't rise alone.
He brings the dead with him, even ones like us.
And if he's calling your name tonight, something's
rattling the door of your tomb. If your shame's
cracking and the light is finally breaking through,
I want you to hear this. You can come out. You're
not too late and you're not too lost. You are
not too far gone to walk again. Because grace
still raises the dead. And you, friends, are
still beloved. So, when you walk out that door
tonight, maybe someone sees you and whispers,
I didn't think anyone could survive that. And
when they do, and they will, don't point at yourself.
Point to the one who tore the veil, shook the
earth, and is still calling the saints to stand
up and walk again. Amen? Amen. Thanks, guys.
Friend, if your faith's been feeling cold and
six feet under, I got good news. Same Jesus who
tore that curtain and cracked those graves open
is still in the business of waking folks up.
And I don't just mean someday in the sweet by
and by. I mean now. He doesn't just wait to the
end of history. He breaks into the middle of
it, into your story, into your sorrow. And when
he shows up, even the tombstones start to tremble.
Matthew tells us that after Jesus rose, those
saints went into the holy city and appeared to
many. They didn't just stretch, blink in the
light, and go back underground. No. They walked
into town. They showed up. They bore witness.
They said, the kingdom has come, y 'all, and
the grave ain't the end. So maybe the call tonight
isn't just to believe in resurrection. Maybe
it's to have the courage to live like we've already
tasted. To go ahead and walk out of whatever
spiritual graveyard we've been holed up in, shame,
regret, cynicism, maybe fear, and show up, scars
and all, as living proof that grace simply just
does not give up. You ain't dead yet, beloved.
And if Jesus has anything to say about it, you
won't ever really be. I'll see you next time.