The reason he misses the point is that he is focussing on only half of the story. There’s lot about Jesus’ death that might make one rage (much as I was doing on Friday). At a minimum it certainly came as a huge disappointment to His earliest followers. But if Jesus simply died, coming to a horrible end, that could not possibly validate His message (to this extent I agree with Matthew). In fact it would convincingly invalidate His message. If He was merely a victim, He could be no example. For on its own, His death would proves nothing beyond Him being either a fool or a liar. Who would want to follow either? This is because He Himself was very clear about the place and circumstances of His death, and spoke about them repeatedly. But He also insisted that His death would not be the end. His original audience either did not hear Him, did not understand Him or did not believe Him. That inner group of disciples, so traumatised by the events of “good” Friday, were every bit as incapable as Matthew at putting it all together. They were so sure that dead people stay dead, and Jesus was certainly dead. So that was that. But then they should also have known that this is not entirely true. Among their wider number was a man called Lazarus. Lazarus had died, but Jesus had raised Him from the dead. You would have thought that this might have caused them to pause and ponder when a number of women reported to them that Jesus tomb was empty on the Sunday morning following Jesus’ Friday death, and that they had been told that the reason the tomb was empty was that Jesus was alive.
We are able to gain bit of an insight into the thought process (or rather the lack of thereof) going on inside the heads of the first Christians that particular Sunday. Luke records a conversation that two of them had with a seemingly ignorant stranger, as they trudged, depressed, from Jerusalem to the village of Emmaus (Luke 24:13-35). They had placed their hopes in Jesus, but these had been dashed by His death. So certain were they that His death had marked the end of those hopes, that they had totally discounted clear evidence that something remarkable had happened. They had heard the report of the women that Jesus’ tomb was empty. And they knew that this was not wishful thinking on the womens’ part, because it had been confirmed by others (i.e. men). They knew that the same demonstrably reliable witnesses (the women) who had reported the empty tomb also claimed to have been told that Jesus was alive. But of course that was ridiculous. Perhaps what might have swayed them was the evidence of their own eyes. If they themselves could have seen Jesus then they would believe. Indeed that would transform the whole situation. This is a common misconception. Because, as it turned out, they could see Jesus. Indeed they were talking to Him; He was the seemingly ignorant stranger they were talking to.
To cut the story short (you can read it for yourself in Luke 24) eventually they recognise the risen Jesus. The rest, as they say, is quite literally history. Jesus alive transforms everything. Now His death is not a tragic miscalculation, nor is it the triumph of midgets and lesser men over a great man. In fact His death is demonstrated not to be the death of just a man at all. But it is His resurrection that validates His own claims, that He did not lose His life but gave it. He died not as a victim, having had death imposed upon Him (by either men or God), but as a willing substitute and sacrifice. His death is not unimportant (merely the prelude to resurrection), but He stresses twice that it was a necessary means through which he accomplishes what had been set for Him, prior to returning to the glory that had always been His. His resurrection demonstrates that He was not at all just another good man and religious teacher from whom we might learn useful things. His resurrection demonstrated that He was uniquely the God-man who had pioneered the way by which death could be overcome for all those who would trust and follow Him. His resurrection is the flip side of the story of his death that Matthew either misses or, perhaps more likely, dismisses.
Because it just can’t be true. Except, of course, it is. All the evidence is there. But then, as the two on their way to Emmaus demonstrate, it is not now, nor has it ever really been, a matter of evidence, of knowing stuff. It’s about recognising Him.