“Say what, Lord? Did I hear you right?” Ananias was dumbfounded. He had just had a vision in which God told him to go to the house of a certain Judas on Straight Street and seek out Saul of Tarsus, to lay hands on him. Ananias was terrified. “Lord,” Ananias said, “not this man. He has been persecuting us, and even now, he has the authority to arrest us all.” “Nevertheless,” replied the Lord, “you must go to him. He is my chosen instrument who will spread the good news about me to both Jews and Gentiles.” Although Ananias felt as if he were literally risking his life, he threw caution to the winds, went to Judas’s house, and laid hands on Saul.
Saul was surely God’s chosen instrument. He himself had had a terrifying encounter with the risen Lord on the road leading into Damascus. Struck blind, he waited for three days for Ananias to come and lay hands on him. No doubt Ananias was also there when Saul became a member of Christ’s Body in baptism. After that, Saul, or Paul as we know him from his Latin name, became a formidable preacher, founder, and letter writer who laid the foundation for the rapid spread of the Gospel among Gentile communities. However, Paul wasn’t the only instrument in this story. Without Ananias, would Paul have become such a great preacher and evangelist? Without Ananias’ ministry, quite possibly Paul’s ministry would have died on the vine. Fortunately for the church and for us, Ananias overcame his fear and headed for Straight Street, ready to face whatever the Lord had for him there. Let’s look for a minute at what Ananias did. First of all, he overcame his personal prejudices. Despite Saul’s reputation, Ananias was willing to embrace him in the Lord’s name, and even managed to call him “Brother Saul.” He also dared to believe in transformation: he believed that, despite what Saul had been, it was possible that the Lord had really transformed him into a preacher of the Gospel. What is most important, Ananias overcame his personal fears and trusted the Lord’s words to him. He was able to take a great risk.
Ananias was hardly alone in risking his own personal safety in order to follow the Lord’s call. Our Scriptures are full of the stories of those who risked their safety and security to follow God’s call. How about Abraham? He was comfortably settled in Ur of the Chaldees when God told him to pack up and go to the land of Canaan. God even promised him that, although Abraham and his wife Sarah were childless and over seventy, that their descendants would be as numerous as the stars. How about Moses? He was hiding out from the authorities working as a shepherd for his father-in-law when God told him to go to Pharaoh and persuade him to let the Israelites leave Egypt. Worse, at the edge of the Sea of Reeds, God told Moses to lead the people right into the water! How about Mary? She was betrothed but not yet married, and she hadn’t slept with her fiancée yet, when the angel Gabriel announced to her that God wanted her to bear God’s son, who was to be the savior of his people. And Jesus? As they left the upper room that last night, didn’t he know that the religious and civil authorities were out to get him? Shouldn’t he have said to his followers, “We’re out of here folks. If we move fast, we can get away before they find us.” Instead, he fulfilled his destiny and went to Gethsemane. Even Peter. He kept his promises to Jesus to feed Jesus’ sheep, risking his life and ultimately following his Lord to a martyr’s death. How did they all do it? Quite simply, they trusted God, they set their faces in the direction they believed God was asking them to go, and they went.
And what of us? Can we follow in the footsteps of Abraham, Moses, Mary, Peter, and Ananias? In this post-9/11 world we think that we can ensure safety and security through better surveillance and a “war on terror.” But, my friends, following God’s call has always been risky. Saul was only the first of many persecutors of the early Christian community. Until well into the fourth century, it was a crime to be a Christian in the Roman empire! During the Reformation, non-conformists, to the Roman Church, or even to the Church of England for more than two centuries, faced legal and social discrimination. Today in Palestine, Iraq, Iran, India, China, and parts of Africa, followers of our Lord face imprisonment or even worse. Perhaps, for us, the risks that we are asked to take to follow our Lord pale in comparison to the risks taken by Christians in other countries. But there are still risks, even if they are only risks of time, talent, and treasure!
There are no certainties in this faith life, there is no safety and security when God has your cell phone number. When once you have heard God’s call, when once you are a member of the Body of Christ, all you can do is set your face in God’s direction and go. On April 20, 1964, when Apartheid in South Africa was in full sway, Nelson Mandela proclaimed his commitment to an inclusive, democratic, and free society. It was, Mandela said, “an ideal which I hope to live for and achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die.” After twenty-seven faithful years in prison, Mandela lived to see his vision fulfilled. Six years ago, I was like Abraham, happily ensconced in my position as dean. Then the Lord said, “Give up your academic career, go to seminary, and become a priest.” “Say what, Lord? Did I hear you right?” And like Ananias, I screwed up my courage and went.
There are no certainties in this faith life. There is only what Roman Catholic social activist Dorothy Day called “precarity,” precariousness, or rather faith in God and dependence on God, despite God’s call to what seems wildly risky business. Parishes too face “precarity.” God is always calling us out in faith, always calling us out to take risks so that the Gospel may continue to be proclaimed. United Methodist Bishop Robert Schnase suggests five ways in which parishes, if they want to flourish and grow, are called to take risks. I’d like to suggest what Schnase’s strategies might look like in our context. First, a parish is called to practice radical hospitality: reaching out in genuine welcome to all in our community who yearn to hear the good news of God in Christ and listening deeply to hear what people’s needs actually are. Second, a parish is called to embrace passionate worship, worship that really connects us to God, that enables us to enter into the mystery of God present to us in Word and Sacrament. For us, especially, passionate worship also includes worship that unites the best from both our rich liturgical tradition with the rich variety of contemporary liturgies. Third, a parish must engage in intentional faith development. Our education as Christians wasn’t completed when the bishop laid hands on us in confirmation. A vibrant and healthy parish constantly engages in formation and offers to its members opportunities to grow and mature in faith. Later this year, I will challenge you to join with me again in just such transformative education. Fourth, we must be about risk-taking mission and service, we must engage in mission that stretches us as a parish. We must look hard at our gifts and abilities and the needs of the community and the world, and ask ourselves where they intersect, where we can continue fulfilling our baptismal promise to “seek and serve Christ in all people.” Finally, we must practice extravagant generosity. Among other things, extravagant generosity means letting God have first claim on our resources – all our resources. Historically for Christians extravagant generosity has meant the tithe, giving one-tenth of one’s income back to God. At the very least generosity means intentional, proportional giving, intentionally dedicating a portion of our resources to God and to mission, in gratitude for everything God has given us. When we put first in our lives our obligations to God, including our obligations to give of our resources, our whole relationship to God and to the people around us radically changes. These are all risky behaviors, but they are all the risks that a parish needs to take in order to grow and flourish.
There are no certainties in this faith life, neither for individuals nor for parishes. The only certainty is that we are called to go where God leads us. We are all called to screw up our courage, head for Straight Street and lay hands on a former persecutor. Ananias, we see you heading out the door. By God’s grace, we’re right behind you.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
So I Send You
The electricity had gone off in the cramped apartment in Armenia . Across a table lit only by a single candle Vigen Guroian’s friend Kevork related his sorrowful tale. It had been a sunny day in December, 1988. An earthquake of such magnitude struck Armenia that the high-rise apartment building in which Kevork and his family had lived was demolished. Kevork and his wife had already left for work, but their two children, ten-year old Armen and seven year-old Lillit were still home when the quake struck. The two children were buried in the rubble for three days. Although both were rescued, Armen died in the hospital, and Lillit was seriously injured. Still locked in his grief, Kevork shouted at Vigen, “I have argued with God day and night! But God has not answered!” Determined to speak to his friend’s hopelessness and despair, Vigen asked if Kevork had a Bible. Kevork had a Russian Bible that someone had given him, and a Russian-Armenian dictionary. Vigen got out his English Bible and Armenian-English dictionary. In the candlelight, both men began to read the 15th chapter of Paul’s first letter to the Christians at Corinth, the chapter in which Paul triumphantly proclaims the resurrection of the body. After several readings, Kevork’s face began to glow. “Vigen,” he shouted, “It says we will have bodies. I will see Armen’s face again, just as I see yours now in the candlelight!” It was promised. Vigen had courageously reached out to Kevork with the good news: Christ is risen. Death has been swallowed up in Victory! And now Kevork knew it too. Kevork too had been brought into that inexplicably joyful fellowship of eternal life in Christ.
On that Easter evening, Jesus’ friends would easily have understood Kevork’s feelings. Huddled together in a locked room, sure that the religious authorities would do to them what they had done to Jesus, they were wracked with fear and regret. Why had they followed Jesus in the first place? Why hadn’t God’s reign come, as they were so sure it would? Could the whole Jesus thing have been temporary madness? Why had they left their homes, their families, their businesses to wind up huddled together like hopeless fugitives? And then Jesus came into that room. He allayed their fears and forgave them for their weakness, regret, faithlessness, and betrayal. He showed them his resurrected body, with all its signs of what he had endured on the cross. The crucified one was now the resurrected one, and the disciples could not contain their joy! But was their joy short-lived? For, immediately the crucified and resurrected one charged them, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you!” Back to the Cross? Maybe! And then he breathed on them! This is the only place in the New Testament where the verb “to breathe” occurs. Just as God breathed life into Adam, just as God called the breath from the Four Winds and brought the dry bones of the House of Israel back to life, so now did Jesus breathe new life into his friends. And immediately, immediately, as soon as the new and life-giving air entered their lungs, the disciples were on their feet to receive an Apostolic Commission. The empowerment that came with the new Spirit was for a purpose: they were to go out into the world and do what Jesus did. They were to have the courage to leave behind all their fears, their locked rooms, their locked churches. They were to go out to carry on Jesus’ work. They were to heal the sick, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and bring new life to the despairing. They were to proclaim Jesus’ victory over sin and death. They were to release others from the hell of despair and grief. They were to bring the exiles back home to the Father. They were to gather others into the community of love and eternal life in Jesus’ name. They were to bear witness unceasingly to the love of God shown forth so gloriously in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.
“As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” This, my sisters and brothers, is the heart of John’s Gospel, indeed of our entire story as Christians. We are charged to proclaim by word and deed what we know and what we have experienced ourselves of the saving acts of God in Christ. We too have the Holy Spirit given to us in baptism, and we too are charged to not remain in our locked rooms, our locked churches, waiting in fear. We too are sent into the world. The words that Jesus spoke to the disciples in John’s Gospel he also speaks to us: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you, people of St. Peter’s and Grace.” We too are to go out into the world courageously proclaiming the risen Christ and continuing his work. One way to do that is to find those areas in our world where we need to bring the risen Christ. Glen Echo Presbyterian Church in Columbus has been sending mission teams to Fort Liberte in Haiti since 2003. On February 12th, in the wake of the earthquake that had devastated Haiti a month before, they set off for another mission trip, their luggage crammed with clothing and other items needed by their Haitian friends. It was a hard week at the clinic at which they worked. First, the generator broke down, leaving them without air conditioning or lights. They needed more translators for the Sunday clinic. They had to do medical triage. Torrential rains threatened one of the clinic walls. Their transportation didn’t always show up. Eight days and over 1300 patients later, the group was ready to head for home. They had saved lives and lessened the pain and discomfort of many. They had given away food, clothing, and money. What was most important, they had visibly brought Christ’s healing presence to the people of Fort Liberte, helping them to remember, that Christians empowered by the Holy Spirit can still bring the blessings of God’s reign to those who are hurting or in despair.
Mission trips are wonderful, and nothing would please me more than to see groups go our from our parishes. But perhaps we don’t have to go to Haiti to fulfill Jesus’ commission. Mission trips, valuable as they are, are not our only vehicles for doing God’s will. For some of us, remaining faithful to our commission in this place, “blooming where we are planted,” may be just as true a way to fulfill our commission as a mission trip, even if we don’t know what the future will bring, even if we aren’t sure we will have all the resources that we will need. Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, the author of The Wisdom of Stability, tell us about his friend Mary Nelson. In 1968 she went to the West Side of Chicago to help her brother settle into his new Lutheran parish. She’d only planned to stay a summer, but the neighborhood was torn by riots, and she wanted to help the parish ease its neighbors’ pain. She is still there, and many of her hopes for the neighborhood have indeed been realized. She has served for twenty-six years as head of a ministry that she founded that provides affordable health care, help with employment, affordable housing, after-school programs for kids, and a support network for the elderly. How did all this happen, Wilson-Hartgrove asks? The answer: Mary (and many others) chose to stay and work for a better community. The desert father Anthony tells us, “In whatever place you find yourself, do not easily leave it.” Mary Nelson and many others embody this wise counsel.
My friends, we too have the privilege of embodying Abba Anthony’s counsel. Green shoots have begun to poke up through the hard, dry soil of both our parishes. At St. Peter’s we will baptize two more children next week. We have a successful diaper give-away at the Lutheran Social Services food distribution site across the street. We are about to open our site for the Ohio Benefit Bank. Our web page will soon be up and running again. We have a flourishing children’s Sunday school. At Grace we baptized the granddaughter of a family member at the Easter Vigil. The Sunday School is also up and going again, and we are hosting the Vacation Bible School this year. We have helped to breathe new life into the Pomeroy cluster of the Meigs Cooperative parish, and we had the third of our highly successful offerings of gift cards to the community. Indeed, Richelle Thompson, our diocesan communications officer, posted pictures of our Undie Saturday on her Facebook page, along with the Holy Week activities of other congregations in the diocese. The shoots have appeared. Will the shoots continue to grow? By God’s grace, they will have a chance to grow if we continue to remain stable, faithful, and committed, if we are willing to commit our resources to the life of this place. They will grow if we look to the future, not wondering if all the resources we need will indeed be there, but trusting God to work God’s will in this place, as in all places. The green shoots will grow if we can leave fear behind and let ourselves be sent out into the world. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”
Kevork's story comes from “Descended into hell,” by Vigen Guroian, Christian Century, 127, 6 (March 23, 2010), 26-29). Guroian uses the story as a beginning point for his discussion of Armenian icons of Christ’s descent into hell.
Glen Echo Presbyterian’s trip is described in a series of articles in the Columbus Dispatch, beginning on Feb. 12, 2010.
Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, “Searching for Community in a Hyper-Mobile Culture,” God’s Politics, a blog by Jim Wallis, April 6, 2010, http://blog.sojo.net/2010/04/06/searching-for-community-in-a-hyper-mobile-culture/ .
On that Easter evening, Jesus’ friends would easily have understood Kevork’s feelings. Huddled together in a locked room, sure that the religious authorities would do to them what they had done to Jesus, they were wracked with fear and regret. Why had they followed Jesus in the first place? Why hadn’t God’s reign come, as they were so sure it would? Could the whole Jesus thing have been temporary madness? Why had they left their homes, their families, their businesses to wind up huddled together like hopeless fugitives? And then Jesus came into that room. He allayed their fears and forgave them for their weakness, regret, faithlessness, and betrayal. He showed them his resurrected body, with all its signs of what he had endured on the cross. The crucified one was now the resurrected one, and the disciples could not contain their joy! But was their joy short-lived? For, immediately the crucified and resurrected one charged them, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you!” Back to the Cross? Maybe! And then he breathed on them! This is the only place in the New Testament where the verb “to breathe” occurs. Just as God breathed life into Adam, just as God called the breath from the Four Winds and brought the dry bones of the House of Israel back to life, so now did Jesus breathe new life into his friends. And immediately, immediately, as soon as the new and life-giving air entered their lungs, the disciples were on their feet to receive an Apostolic Commission. The empowerment that came with the new Spirit was for a purpose: they were to go out into the world and do what Jesus did. They were to have the courage to leave behind all their fears, their locked rooms, their locked churches. They were to go out to carry on Jesus’ work. They were to heal the sick, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and bring new life to the despairing. They were to proclaim Jesus’ victory over sin and death. They were to release others from the hell of despair and grief. They were to bring the exiles back home to the Father. They were to gather others into the community of love and eternal life in Jesus’ name. They were to bear witness unceasingly to the love of God shown forth so gloriously in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.
“As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” This, my sisters and brothers, is the heart of John’s Gospel, indeed of our entire story as Christians. We are charged to proclaim by word and deed what we know and what we have experienced ourselves of the saving acts of God in Christ. We too have the Holy Spirit given to us in baptism, and we too are charged to not remain in our locked rooms, our locked churches, waiting in fear. We too are sent into the world. The words that Jesus spoke to the disciples in John’s Gospel he also speaks to us: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you, people of St. Peter’s and Grace.” We too are to go out into the world courageously proclaiming the risen Christ and continuing his work. One way to do that is to find those areas in our world where we need to bring the risen Christ. Glen Echo Presbyterian Church in Columbus has been sending mission teams to Fort Liberte in Haiti since 2003. On February 12th, in the wake of the earthquake that had devastated Haiti a month before, they set off for another mission trip, their luggage crammed with clothing and other items needed by their Haitian friends. It was a hard week at the clinic at which they worked. First, the generator broke down, leaving them without air conditioning or lights. They needed more translators for the Sunday clinic. They had to do medical triage. Torrential rains threatened one of the clinic walls. Their transportation didn’t always show up. Eight days and over 1300 patients later, the group was ready to head for home. They had saved lives and lessened the pain and discomfort of many. They had given away food, clothing, and money. What was most important, they had visibly brought Christ’s healing presence to the people of Fort Liberte, helping them to remember, that Christians empowered by the Holy Spirit can still bring the blessings of God’s reign to those who are hurting or in despair.
Mission trips are wonderful, and nothing would please me more than to see groups go our from our parishes. But perhaps we don’t have to go to Haiti to fulfill Jesus’ commission. Mission trips, valuable as they are, are not our only vehicles for doing God’s will. For some of us, remaining faithful to our commission in this place, “blooming where we are planted,” may be just as true a way to fulfill our commission as a mission trip, even if we don’t know what the future will bring, even if we aren’t sure we will have all the resources that we will need. Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, the author of The Wisdom of Stability, tell us about his friend Mary Nelson. In 1968 she went to the West Side of Chicago to help her brother settle into his new Lutheran parish. She’d only planned to stay a summer, but the neighborhood was torn by riots, and she wanted to help the parish ease its neighbors’ pain. She is still there, and many of her hopes for the neighborhood have indeed been realized. She has served for twenty-six years as head of a ministry that she founded that provides affordable health care, help with employment, affordable housing, after-school programs for kids, and a support network for the elderly. How did all this happen, Wilson-Hartgrove asks? The answer: Mary (and many others) chose to stay and work for a better community. The desert father Anthony tells us, “In whatever place you find yourself, do not easily leave it.” Mary Nelson and many others embody this wise counsel.
My friends, we too have the privilege of embodying Abba Anthony’s counsel. Green shoots have begun to poke up through the hard, dry soil of both our parishes. At St. Peter’s we will baptize two more children next week. We have a successful diaper give-away at the Lutheran Social Services food distribution site across the street. We are about to open our site for the Ohio Benefit Bank. Our web page will soon be up and running again. We have a flourishing children’s Sunday school. At Grace we baptized the granddaughter of a family member at the Easter Vigil. The Sunday School is also up and going again, and we are hosting the Vacation Bible School this year. We have helped to breathe new life into the Pomeroy cluster of the Meigs Cooperative parish, and we had the third of our highly successful offerings of gift cards to the community. Indeed, Richelle Thompson, our diocesan communications officer, posted pictures of our Undie Saturday on her Facebook page, along with the Holy Week activities of other congregations in the diocese. The shoots have appeared. Will the shoots continue to grow? By God’s grace, they will have a chance to grow if we continue to remain stable, faithful, and committed, if we are willing to commit our resources to the life of this place. They will grow if we look to the future, not wondering if all the resources we need will indeed be there, but trusting God to work God’s will in this place, as in all places. The green shoots will grow if we can leave fear behind and let ourselves be sent out into the world. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”
Kevork's story comes from “Descended into hell,” by Vigen Guroian, Christian Century, 127, 6 (March 23, 2010), 26-29). Guroian uses the story as a beginning point for his discussion of Armenian icons of Christ’s descent into hell.
Glen Echo Presbyterian’s trip is described in a series of articles in the Columbus Dispatch, beginning on Feb. 12, 2010.
Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, “Searching for Community in a Hyper-Mobile Culture,” God’s Politics, a blog by Jim Wallis, April 6, 2010, http://blog.sojo.net/2010/04/06/searching-for-community-in-a-hyper-mobile-culture/ .
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Why Do You Look for the Living Among the Dead?
“Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen.” They were baffled, those faithful women. He had died on Friday afternoon, just as the Sabbath was beginning, so they couldn’t prepare his body. He had been executed as a criminal. They had to put him in a strange, unused tomb, then they rolled the big, round stone, the one that looked like a huge chariot wheel, over the entrance. It was done. The Light had gone out of their lives forever. But the women, those ever-faithful women, came back on the first day of the week to finally take care of his body. And they were baffled. The big round stone had been rolled away, his body was gone, and the two dazzling angels reminded them of what he had said: don’t you remember how he told you so early on that he would be executed, and that on the third day he would rise again? And they did remember! They did remember that he had indeed said all that! And so they told his friends! But, of course, since they were women, no one believed them. Except maybe Peter. He went running over there to see for himself, but even he couldn’t figure out what happened. He was baffled!
Are you also baffled? Most of us are. Someone rising from the dead absolutely defies reason! It just doesn’t happen! I’ve been to many funerals, and I never saw anyone come back to life in a new and different body, and neither probably did you. In dreams maybe, but not in a new and perfected body. The Resurrection is an absolutely unique event in human history. In the last two hundred years, we’ve all become such skeptics. If we didn’t see something with our own eyes, even though most of us know that even our own eyes are untrustworthy witnesses, if we ourselves didn’t see something, then it didn’t happen. Or, if we don’t have an absolutely convincing, water-tight historical record, then as far as we’re concerned an event didn’t happen. If science can’t replicate the event, then for sure it didn’t happen. We weren’t there, we didn’t see it happen, and we can’t fit it into the neat boxes of our limited, human reason, so how could the Resurrection have happened? Like the women and Peter, we are baffled. You may even wonder why you are here in a church celebrating such an unlikely event! You know this celebration is about more than bunnies, and springtime, and girls in new dresses. But what is this day really about?
Something happened the first day of that week so long ago! Jesus’ friends discovered that what he had promised them actually happened. He had fulfilled all his own prophecies. He had conquered death and was alive again in a new and different body. The experience of Jesus alive again was so powerful that his followers collected, treasured, remembered, and eventually wrote down all the eye-witness accounts of people who had seen Jesus alive again. Paul tells us that, besides Jesus’ closest friends, five hundred people saw him alive. Paul himself met Jesus on the road to Damascus. All of our Gospels record the testimony of those who found Jesus alive again. One of the many compelling accounts of Jesus’ showing himself to his disciples alive again was one we won’t hear this Easter tide. Perhaps you remember it. In the afternoon of the very same day that the women and Peter came away baffled from the empty tomb, two of Jesus’ friends were walking to the village of Emmaus, about six miles from Jerusalem. Jesus joined them, but, of course they didn’t recognize him. As they were sharing with him their grief over Jesus’ death, Jesus himself began to do Bible study with them, showing them how the Scripture was fulfilled in his Resurrection. When they got to Emmaus Jesus joined them at the table. As he broke and blessed the bread, suddenly they realized it was he! He disappeared from their sight, but they ran all the way back to Jerusalem to tell the others. They were no longer baffled!
Maybe you’re still baffled, but you’re also still here. Perhaps something in your heart still hopes that all those old stories are true. Despite all the skepticism of our age, perhaps in your heart of hearts you still long for resurrection! Actually, you may be surprised to learn that the historical and archeological evidence for the Jesus’ resurrection is quite strong. Taking into account what we know of ancient Jewish society and the remains of it that we have actually found, if there’s any shred of truth in the Gospel accounts, Jesus’ resurrection is the only convincing way to explain them. But history and archeology are not our primary evidence for the resurrection. Our primary evidence for the truth of the Resurrection is the lives that have been changed by encountering the risen Christ. Mary of Magdala and the other women became leading figures in the early Christian community. The men walking to Emmaus told others whose lives were also changed. Peter went from being an illiterate fisherman to a respected leader of a new community. Through his contact with the risen Christ, he became a dedicated and articulate spokesperson for the Way – as we will hear in our readings from the Book of Acts in the weeks to come. Paul was transformed from a persecutor of the fledgling Christian community to a tireless preacher to the Gentiles of the good news of the risen Christ.
What’s most important, the Resurrection has changed our lives! The Resurrection is not about “going to heaven.” In the resurrection we have evidence that the Enemy has been conquered, that God’s reign has begun. We are no longer bound hand and foot by the powers of this world or of the Enemy. We are no longer imprisoned in the depths of our own depressions, addictions, limitations and sinfulness. We are no longer hopeless. Rather, we look ahead to the even greater future that God has waiting for us through the power of the Holy Spirit. Yes, my sisters and brothers, the Resurrection is about the here and now in this world. Our own lives in this world have been changed by the Resurrection. Because of Jesus’ victory, we have eternal life, and the quality of our lives in this world has been changed forever. And God invites us, God invites us every day, not only on Easter, to partake of the blessings of God’s new world order, and to invite everyone we know to come into the community of God’s love. As we roll away the stone from our own hearts, as we spread the good news of life and hope, we encounter the risen Christ for ourselves. Out of death comes new life, and we are no longer baffled!
Out of death comes new life. A writer tells about a school teacher assigned to visit children in the hospital. She was called to visit a particular child. The child’s regular teacher told her, "We’re studying nouns and adverbs in this class now. I’d be grateful if you could help him with his homework, so he doesn’t fall behind the others." When the visiting teacher got to the boy’s room she realized she was in the hospital’s burn unit. No one had prepared her to find a young boy badly burned and in great pain. She didn’t want to just turn around and walk out, so she just said, "I’m the hospital teacher, and your teacher sent me to help you with nouns and adverbs." This boy was in so much pain that he barely responded. The young teacher stumbled through his English lesson, ashamed at putting him through such a senseless exercise. The next morning a nurse on the burn unit asked her, "What did you do to that boy?" Before the teacher could finish apologizing, the nurse interrupted her: "You don’t understand. We’ve been very worried about him. But ever since you were here yesterday, his whole attitude has changed. He’s fighting back; he’s responding to treatment. It’s as if he has decided to live." The boy later explained that he had completely given up hope until he saw the teacher. It all changed when he came to a simple realization. With joyful tears, the boy said: "They wouldn’t send a teacher to work on nouns and adverbs with a boy who was dying, would they?"
We are not baffled. We too have encountered the risen Christ. Even when all we see around us is pain and disappointment, and brokenness, we know that on the other side of pain there is resurrection. The great Easter truth is not that we are to live newly after death. That is not what we celebrate. We are to be new here and now by the power of the Resurrection. Our lives are transformed by the power of the Resurrection. “Let the whole world see and know,” we pray in the liturgy for Good Friday, “that things that were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new.” By the power of Christ’s Resurrection, it shall be so! The Lord is risen indeed, Alleluia!
Are you also baffled? Most of us are. Someone rising from the dead absolutely defies reason! It just doesn’t happen! I’ve been to many funerals, and I never saw anyone come back to life in a new and different body, and neither probably did you. In dreams maybe, but not in a new and perfected body. The Resurrection is an absolutely unique event in human history. In the last two hundred years, we’ve all become such skeptics. If we didn’t see something with our own eyes, even though most of us know that even our own eyes are untrustworthy witnesses, if we ourselves didn’t see something, then it didn’t happen. Or, if we don’t have an absolutely convincing, water-tight historical record, then as far as we’re concerned an event didn’t happen. If science can’t replicate the event, then for sure it didn’t happen. We weren’t there, we didn’t see it happen, and we can’t fit it into the neat boxes of our limited, human reason, so how could the Resurrection have happened? Like the women and Peter, we are baffled. You may even wonder why you are here in a church celebrating such an unlikely event! You know this celebration is about more than bunnies, and springtime, and girls in new dresses. But what is this day really about?
Something happened the first day of that week so long ago! Jesus’ friends discovered that what he had promised them actually happened. He had fulfilled all his own prophecies. He had conquered death and was alive again in a new and different body. The experience of Jesus alive again was so powerful that his followers collected, treasured, remembered, and eventually wrote down all the eye-witness accounts of people who had seen Jesus alive again. Paul tells us that, besides Jesus’ closest friends, five hundred people saw him alive. Paul himself met Jesus on the road to Damascus. All of our Gospels record the testimony of those who found Jesus alive again. One of the many compelling accounts of Jesus’ showing himself to his disciples alive again was one we won’t hear this Easter tide. Perhaps you remember it. In the afternoon of the very same day that the women and Peter came away baffled from the empty tomb, two of Jesus’ friends were walking to the village of Emmaus, about six miles from Jerusalem. Jesus joined them, but, of course they didn’t recognize him. As they were sharing with him their grief over Jesus’ death, Jesus himself began to do Bible study with them, showing them how the Scripture was fulfilled in his Resurrection. When they got to Emmaus Jesus joined them at the table. As he broke and blessed the bread, suddenly they realized it was he! He disappeared from their sight, but they ran all the way back to Jerusalem to tell the others. They were no longer baffled!
Maybe you’re still baffled, but you’re also still here. Perhaps something in your heart still hopes that all those old stories are true. Despite all the skepticism of our age, perhaps in your heart of hearts you still long for resurrection! Actually, you may be surprised to learn that the historical and archeological evidence for the Jesus’ resurrection is quite strong. Taking into account what we know of ancient Jewish society and the remains of it that we have actually found, if there’s any shred of truth in the Gospel accounts, Jesus’ resurrection is the only convincing way to explain them. But history and archeology are not our primary evidence for the resurrection. Our primary evidence for the truth of the Resurrection is the lives that have been changed by encountering the risen Christ. Mary of Magdala and the other women became leading figures in the early Christian community. The men walking to Emmaus told others whose lives were also changed. Peter went from being an illiterate fisherman to a respected leader of a new community. Through his contact with the risen Christ, he became a dedicated and articulate spokesperson for the Way – as we will hear in our readings from the Book of Acts in the weeks to come. Paul was transformed from a persecutor of the fledgling Christian community to a tireless preacher to the Gentiles of the good news of the risen Christ.
What’s most important, the Resurrection has changed our lives! The Resurrection is not about “going to heaven.” In the resurrection we have evidence that the Enemy has been conquered, that God’s reign has begun. We are no longer bound hand and foot by the powers of this world or of the Enemy. We are no longer imprisoned in the depths of our own depressions, addictions, limitations and sinfulness. We are no longer hopeless. Rather, we look ahead to the even greater future that God has waiting for us through the power of the Holy Spirit. Yes, my sisters and brothers, the Resurrection is about the here and now in this world. Our own lives in this world have been changed by the Resurrection. Because of Jesus’ victory, we have eternal life, and the quality of our lives in this world has been changed forever. And God invites us, God invites us every day, not only on Easter, to partake of the blessings of God’s new world order, and to invite everyone we know to come into the community of God’s love. As we roll away the stone from our own hearts, as we spread the good news of life and hope, we encounter the risen Christ for ourselves. Out of death comes new life, and we are no longer baffled!
Out of death comes new life. A writer tells about a school teacher assigned to visit children in the hospital. She was called to visit a particular child. The child’s regular teacher told her, "We’re studying nouns and adverbs in this class now. I’d be grateful if you could help him with his homework, so he doesn’t fall behind the others." When the visiting teacher got to the boy’s room she realized she was in the hospital’s burn unit. No one had prepared her to find a young boy badly burned and in great pain. She didn’t want to just turn around and walk out, so she just said, "I’m the hospital teacher, and your teacher sent me to help you with nouns and adverbs." This boy was in so much pain that he barely responded. The young teacher stumbled through his English lesson, ashamed at putting him through such a senseless exercise. The next morning a nurse on the burn unit asked her, "What did you do to that boy?" Before the teacher could finish apologizing, the nurse interrupted her: "You don’t understand. We’ve been very worried about him. But ever since you were here yesterday, his whole attitude has changed. He’s fighting back; he’s responding to treatment. It’s as if he has decided to live." The boy later explained that he had completely given up hope until he saw the teacher. It all changed when he came to a simple realization. With joyful tears, the boy said: "They wouldn’t send a teacher to work on nouns and adverbs with a boy who was dying, would they?"
We are not baffled. We too have encountered the risen Christ. Even when all we see around us is pain and disappointment, and brokenness, we know that on the other side of pain there is resurrection. The great Easter truth is not that we are to live newly after death. That is not what we celebrate. We are to be new here and now by the power of the Resurrection. Our lives are transformed by the power of the Resurrection. “Let the whole world see and know,” we pray in the liturgy for Good Friday, “that things that were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new.” By the power of Christ’s Resurrection, it shall be so! The Lord is risen indeed, Alleluia!
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