Lives Transformed

What does Easter mean to you? It’s still Easter, and it will continue to be Easter tide throughout this month. So what does Easter mean to you? German pastor and social activist Christoph Blumhardt said that it is not enough to celebrate Easter by saying, “Christ is risen.” It makes no sense to make such a proclamation unless we can also say that we have died with Christ and we have also risen with Christ. Yes, we acknowledge Jesus’ victory over death, but does what happened to Jesus have any impact on our lives? What does Easter mean to you?

What did Easter mean to those who encountered the risen Lord in the flesh? Our Scripture stories tell us that their lives were utterly transformed. Mary Magdalene and the other women become the first evangelists, enthusiastically delivering the good news of the empty tomb to the other disciples. Seeing Jesus’ wounded side and hands, Thomas was transformed from a skeptic – or at best someone who was confused by all that had happened – into a person of deep faith who could proclaim, “My Lord and my God!” Indeed, from that upper room, Thomas went out to become the first evangelist to India, so tradition tells us, and founded what is now called the Mar Thoma Church in southwest India.

And the transformation of Peter? Although Peter was traditionally the first one to declare that Jesus was God’s anointed one, Scripture also shows us that Peter went up the mountain with Jesus, but completely misunderstood what he saw there. He fell asleep in the garden of Gethsemane, even though Jesus had asked him to stay awake, to “watch with me one hour.” After Jesus was arrested, Peter denied three times that he even knew Jesus. As Jesus hung in agony on the cross, Peter was nowhere to be seen. And, although Peter was the acknowledged leader of Jesus’ closest friends, he huddled behind a locked door with the others on Easter evening, afraid to imagine what might happen next.

Is the Peter that we just heard in the Book of Acts that same Peter? We heard only part of Peter’s sermon that he delivered after experiencing the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost. Yet, aren’t you amazed at how boldly Peter can speak the truth to his fellow Jews? Isn’t it astounding that he can proclaim so eloquently and so fearlessly everything that God has done for them in Jesus? Calling himself a witness to the risen Jesus, Peter has clearly been transformed – into someone who will spend the rest of his life spreading the good news among other Jews, and finally dying for his commitment to Jesus during Nero’s persecution of Christians in 64 AD.

And how about those two dispirited and fearful friends along the road to Emmaus? Downcast and disappointed as they trudged home from Jerusalem, they had fervently hoped that Jesus of Nazareth would be God’s anointed one, the king who would finally free the Jews from Roman oppression. Perhaps they had stood by Jesus as he slowly bled to death on the cross. The claim of the women that his tomb was empty, and that angels had told them he was alive, was sheer nonsense to them. And then that mysterious stranger began to explain the Hebrew Scriptures to them. He showed them that his death took place according to God’s plan. Their hearts warmed to him, as they began to see that Scripture tells us a consistent story of God’s great love. As Jesus was about to leave them on their own, the companions were moved by the Holy Spirit to invite Jesus to come in and share a meal with them. Miraculously, instead of guest, Jesus became host. He broke the bread, blessed it, and broke it, and gave it to them – and they recognized him!

And the two companions were utterly transformed! Then they knew for certain that what the women had said was true, and that Jesus was indeed alive again. Even though it was now night, and even though they were tired from their seven miles’ walk to Emmaus, they were so joyful and excited that they turned around and ran the seven miles back to Jerusalem. They joyfully shared the good news with Peter and the other disciples. And all of them knew that not only was Jesus alive again, but that he was especially present to them as they broke bread and shared the cup in his name.

What has Easter meant since the books of the New Testament were written and brought together? Were those we hear about in Scripture the only ones – the last ones – to be transformed by the presence of the risen Christ? Absolutely not! St. Paul did not encounter Jesus in the flesh, but the vision that he did have on the road to Damascus so transformed him that he spent the rest of his life proclaiming the good news of Christ to gentile communities in Greco-Roman territories outside Israel. The desert fathers and mothers, founders of monastic communities like Benedict, mystics like Hildegard, Julian of Norwich, Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross, those who cared for the poor and downtrodden like Francis of Assisi, holy women like the Beguines of France and Belgium, Protestant reformers like Martin Luther, our own Thomas Cranmer, and John Wesley, all found their lives transformed by the risen Jesus, and all shared with others their joy in the discovery of God’s great love.

Even in our own day, lives are being transformed through those who share God’s love with others. Let me relate just one story among so many. April 25th was World Malaria Day. In some ways it’s a sad anniversary, in that it reminds us – now for the seventh time – that one of the Millennium Development Goals of the United Nations is the prevention of malaria. Our own Episcopal Relief and Development, through its Nets for Life program, trains local community leaders to work throughout Africa, distributing the nets and offering the guidance on diet that will help to reach the goal of the eradication of malaria. And lives are being transformed. Margaret Atieno Juma, a petite mother and grandmother, used to suffer bouts of malaria about two or three times a year. Though we can scarcely imagine having malaria so frequently, Margaret grimly battled the disease, even traveling many miles to a clinic for treatment. Nets for Life has made all the difference in her life, as she put up the bed net in her small mud hut and learned how to keep from contracting the disease. Thanks to ERD and its local representative, it has been over a year since Margaret last contracted malaria!

So what does Easter mean to us? Can we too be transformed, as those in our Scripture stories were, or as Margaret and those who brought her life-saving nets were? We can! Every time we gather in Jesus’ name, every time we are nourished by the bread of Scripture and the bread of the Eucharist, we too can be transformed. Those who come from other traditions often wonder why Roman Catholics and Episcopalians continue to celebrate the Eucharist Sunday after Sunday after Sunday. This is the reason why: it is in the Eucharist that we continue to meet the risen Christ. It is in the Eucharist that he continues his work of transformation in us. We come to this place as we are. Some of us are sad, some of us are wounded, some of us may even be broken. Some of us may be full of energy, but some of us may be full of doubt and questions. Some have many needs and desires, and some have next to nothing but their love for their friends.

And yet God works a transformation in all of us. As we hear God’s word in Scripture, the Holy Spirit helps us to hear with fresh ears, gain new insight, and see more clearly what we are called to do with our lives. As the bread and cup of life are blessed, broken, and shared, Jesus enters our very bodies, nourishing us and transforming us from the inside out. As we gather round the table with Jesus, as we receive Christ’s body and blood, our transformation has begun, but it is not yet complete. Mystics speak of “the slow work of God.” Each of us must return again and again to Christ’s table, letting him continue to change us, letting him continue to feed us, letting him forgive and heal us, letting him continue the lifelong process of growth in wholeness that he began in us in baptism.

Lord, that we may know you in the breaking,
in the break of day, in the breaking of hearts,
and in the breaking of bread,
help us to know that you are risen indeed,
and that you are with us in the holy communion.
May we ever proclaim your presence,
and know that you travel with us on the road we go.
Teach us, Lord, to abide in you, that we may know that you abide in us ….
Lord, abide with us,
that we may abide in you.1

1. Modified from David Adam, Clouds and Glory (Harrisburg, PA: Morehouse, 2001), 63.