Easter Emojis - Pastor Johnnie Simpson Jr.

This Easter message invites us into the resurrection story through an unexpected lens: emojis as symbols that carry profound meaning. Drawing from Matthew 28, we journey with Mary Magdalene and the other Mary to the empty tomb, where they encounter an angel who delivers the most transformative announcement in history: 'He is not here. He is risen, just as he said.' The sermon powerfully corrects centuries of misrepresentation about Mary Magdalene, restoring her rightful place as a devoted disciple and the first commissioned preacher of the resurrection. We're reminded that symbols only have the power we give them, and context changes everything—what looks like death in one moment becomes the doorway to eternal life in another. The message challenges us with the phrase 'just as he said,' affirming that God's promises don't expire or arrive late; they manifest exactly as declared. The empty tomb wasn't rolled away to let Jesus out, but to let us look in—God invites our examination, our questions, our need for evidence. Most beautifully, we discover that the first Easter sermon was preached by women, commissioned directly by both angel and risen Christ to 'go and tell.' This Easter, we're asked not whether Jesus is risen—the empty tomb settled that—but what we'll do now that we know.

Easter Emojis: The Symbols That Tell the Greatest Story

In our modern world of rapid-fire communication, we've learned to pack enormous meaning into tiny pictures. A simple thumbs up can convey approval, agreement, or enthusiasm—unless you're in the Middle East where it's considered offensive, or ancient Rome where it signaled a gladiator's death sentence. The same symbol, completely opposite meanings. Context changes everything.

This reality offers a powerful lens through which to view the resurrection story in Matthew 28. What if we looked at this ancient account through the framework of modern emojis? What symbols would capture the震震-shattering, world-changing events of that first Easter morning?

The Note-Taking Emoji: Getting the Story Straight

Before diving into the resurrection account, we need to address some serious misconceptions that have circulated for centuries. Mary Magdalene, one of the central figures in this narrative, has been wrongly characterized for over a millennium. A pope, some 700 years after the resurrection, assigned her a profession that appears nowhere in Scripture. This devoted disciple, who had seven demons cast out of her, was a woman of means who financially supported Jesus's ministry. She stood at the crucifixion when many male disciples had fled. She deserves to have her reputation restored.

When we compare the four Gospel accounts of resurrection morning, we notice variations in details. This shouldn't trouble us—it should reassure us. When different people witness the same event, they focus on what matters most to them. Mark emphasizes the spices the women brought to anoint Jesus's body. Matthew focuses on their experience of coming to see the tomb. These aren't contradictions; they're different perspectives on the same miraculous truth.

In Matthew's account, Mary Magdalene and "the other Mary" arrive at the tomb at dawn. They encounter a violent earthquake, an angel whose appearance was like lightning with clothes white as snow, and guards who shake with fear and become like dead men. The details matter because they establish that something supernatural, something beyond human explanation, occurred that morning.

The Announcement Emoji: Just As He Said

The angel's message contains four of the most powerful words in Scripture: "Just as he said."

These words aren't simply confirmation that Jesus kept his promise. They're a testimony to the reliability of God's word across all time. When God speaks, it comes to pass—not early, not late, but exactly as promised.

"He is not here; he has risen, just as he said."

Think about the implications. Every promise in Scripture carries this same certainty. When the Word says you are the head and not the tail, above and not beneath, a lender and not a borrower—these aren't aspirational statements. They're declarations backed by the same authority that raised Christ from the dead.

When Scripture promises that no weapon formed against you shall prosper, that weeping may endure for a night but joy comes in the morning—these carry the weight of resurrection power. God is not a man that he should lie. What he says will come to pass.

Then comes the invitation: "Come and see."

The stone wasn't rolled away to let Jesus out. A resurrected, glorified body isn't constrained by rock. The stone was moved to let people look in. The empty tomb wasn't for Jesus—it was for the disciples, for the doubters, for everyone who would need evidence to anchor their faith.

God invites examination. Faith is not anti-intellectual. Come and see for yourself.

The Commission Emoji: Go and Tell

Here's where the story takes a revolutionary turn that challenges centuries of religious tradition.

The angel speaks to women. Let that sink in. The first Easter sermon was preached by women. The angel didn't summon Peter. He didn't wait for the men hiding behind locked doors. He told the women—the ones who stayed through the crucifixion, who showed up before sunrise—to go and tell the disciples.

Mary Magdalene wasn't some marginal figure. She was a commissioned messenger at the center of the resurrection story.

As the women ran to obey, Jesus himself met them on the road. His first word? "Greetings." Their response? They fell at his feet and worshiped him.

That's the authentic response to encountering the risen Christ—not confusion, not theological debate, but worship. When you actually encounter him, not just know about him intellectually, the only response is to fall at his feet.

And Jesus confirmed their commission. He told them the same thing the angel had: "Go and tell my brothers."

The Repeat Emoji: Back to Galilee

Jesus instructed the women to tell the disciples to meet him in Galilee. This wasn't just a geographic location—it was loaded with meaning.

Galilee was where everything started. It was where Jesus first approached Simon Peter and Andrew casting their nets and said, "Follow me." It was where he preached the Sermon on the Mount, fed thousands with a few loaves and fish, walked on water, and reached out to a sinking Peter.

Galilee was the classroom. Galilee was the beginning.

And the disciples absolutely did not deserve to go back there.

Let's be honest about what happened. When Jesus was arrested, they all fled. Peter denied him three times. When Jesus was crucified, the male disciples weren't there—the women were. The men who had walked with Jesus for three years were hiding behind locked doors, paralyzed by fear and guilt.

By any reasonable accounting of loyalty and friendship, those relationships were over. They had failed spectacularly.

But Jesus didn't say, "Tell them I'm disappointed." He didn't say, "Tell them we need to talk." He said, "Tell my brothers to meet me in Galilee."

He called them brothers. He was sending them back to the beginning—not to shame them for their failure, but to restore them for their future.

This is grace. This separates Christian faith from every self-improvement program and pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps philosophy. You don't earn your way back. You don't negotiate or perform your way back. Jesus simply says, "Come. Meet me where we started. I'm giving you another chance."

The Message for Today

Someone reading this needs to hear that message. Not the person who has it all together, but the person carrying something they haven't told anyone about. The person who's been distant from God—not because they stopped believing, but because they feel like they forfeited the right to come back.

You've been sitting in your own version of a locked room, hoping somehow today would feel different. Jesus is sending you the same word he sent those disciples: Come back to Galilee. Come back to where we started.

The grace that saved you the first time hasn't expired. The invitation hasn't been rescinded.

Notice that Jesus didn't wait for the women to complete their errand. He met them on the way. He showed up on the road before they had even finished their task.

That's the kind of God we serve. He doesn't make you get all the way back before he shows up. He meets you on the way. He meets you in the process. He meets you in the middle of your obedience.

The question this Easter isn't whether Jesus is risen. The empty tomb settled that. The question is: What will you do now that you know?

Will you let fear stop you, or will you run toward what you know to be true—afraid yet filled with joy, like those women?

Will you keep waiting for a promise God has already set in motion, or will you trust the One who said "just as I said" and has never been wrong?

Will you live like you're disqualified, or will you accept the invitation to come back to Galilee—back to the place where you first said yes, back to the relationship Christ is offering?

He's not in the tomb. He is risen, just as he said.