The headlines are harsh.
Describing a reality I read about.
But do not know.
Or understand.
The tomb is real.
The bombs are real.
The fear is real.
The ruthlessness is real.
Yet, somewhere a stone is rolled back.
Just a bit.
Just enough.
And life pushes its way out.
Into the harshness of the headlines.
Refusing to bow down.
Or to be silent.
Or to hide.
Easter.
Do I feel it?
Or see it?
Sometimes.
But not always.
But it does not depend on me.
Beyond my seeing
My knowing.
It is there.
No Standing Still: A Reflection for Easter Sunday
You know the story.
For Jesus, it was all about his understanding of what he knew and named as the Kingdom of God. That understanding…that vision of what your life would be like and our life and world would be like if God were in charge and not a Prime Minister or President or a Dictator or any type of leader you might like to name. And, for Jesus that Kingdom was not about someday in the future or someday after you die. It was about here and now amidst the challenges and wonder and hardships and joys of life as it is. It had to do with loving God and loving your neighbor with your neighbor being the stranger in your midst and not just the person who lives next door. It had to do with treating others the way you would like to be treated and treating others they way they would like to be treated. It had to do with those who Jesus knew and named the least of these being invited to the banquet and included in the circle of the community. It had to do with knowing it and seeing it and living in it which he did. And, all that got him killed. Crucified. Stone rolled into place in front of his tomb.
Which brings us to today.
Doesn’t it make you wonder?
With whatever happened as those followers of Jesus experienced the resurrection, you would think by the time they finally wrote something down, which was 30-40 years after Jesus was killed, they would have gotten their story straight.
But that didn’t happen, did it?
Matthew has an earthquake and an angel sitting on the stone and guards keeling over. Mark has everyone so scared and disconcerted they don’t say anything to anyone. Luke has two angels and disciples fleeing Jerusalem trying to get to safety in Emmaus. John has doubting Thomas and the disciples hiding behind locked doors. The Apostle Paul, in his letter to the Christian community in Corinth, which is actually the earliest of the witnesses to the resurrection describes resurrection as a seed falling to the ground and then growing into something much more.
Maybe the fact they didn’t merge their stories into one story tells us something. Maybe it tells us that this is not the most important part of the story. Or, at least, the whole story. Each of them described the resurrection in their own way in an effort to communicate their understanding of what it meant more than what happened. And, even though each account is different, they do agree on two things.
First, something happened.
Something which transformed their lives moving them from betrayal and denial and being scared to death to stepping out and speaking up and living in a fundamentally new way. Doing what they had seen Jesus do even though doing that and living like that is what got Jesus killed.
And, second, the story doesn’t end in that unknown cemetery.
No one remained there. No one lingered in the cemetery applauding and cheering for Jesus and saying “Isn’t God great!” The moment in the cemetery is immediately followed up with instructions. Marching orders for those who experienced the resurrection and those who chose and choose to follow Jesus. Verbs in the imperative voice. Go. Teach. Care for. Break bread. Feed. Make disciples. Bring God’s Kingdom close.
Which brings us to today.
And, to you and me.
We are now left to decide if we will trust the story.
Even with all the headlines in the news.
Sarin gas.
MOAB bombs on Maundy Thursday.
Suicide bombers on the doorsteps of churches.
Maybe, even in defiance of the headlines in the news.
We are left to decide if we will trust the story enough to risk living inside it. Trusting that all those glimpses and glances of hope and beauty and truth and life which punctuate our lives are not aberrations. Not some blip on the screen. But, instead a sign. A symbol. A window onto how life really is and how it is meant to be. Trust that in the grand scheme of life…in God’s grand scheme of life that kindness and compassion and longing for and working towards the justice and peace and sufficiency wrapped up in the words and vision of God’s Kingdom come is both life itself and the way life is intended to be. Trusting, that when all is said and done, life is stronger than death.
So, if you want proof of the resurrection look around.
Or better yet, look in the mirror.
The witness to the resurrection is not what happened in that cemetery.
The witness to the resurrection is you and me when we trust the story enough to live it. When we walk out the door and not just look at, but see our neighbor. When we treat the other the way we would like to be treated if we wore their shoes. When, in the midst of the craziness and complexity of life, we keep our eyes on hope and walk in the direction of justice and peace.
It is Easter Sunday morning.
You know the story.
Now, can you trust it?
Trust it enough to live it?
In Clay Jars
Lent used to be a big deal.
Granted, not as big a deal as Advent as we get ready for Christmas, but it still registered on our radar screen. Lent is those 40 days, not counting Sundays, between Ash Wednesday on one end and Easter on the other. It was and is to be time of preparation for the celebration of Easter. The early Christian community used Lent as a time to teach and instruct converts who were then baptized into the Christian community early on Easter Sunday morning. After Christianity became the recognized religion of the realm, Lent became a time penance and reflection and introspection. Still focused on getting ready for Easter.
It used to be you gave up something for Lent.
Meat. Wine. Sweets.
More recently some people have found it more meaningful to add something for Lent.
Reading the Bible or a daily reflection.
Daily or weekly acts of charity.
Additional or more intentional time set aside for prayer or meditation.
When I was a child our family always gave us some type of food for Lent setting aside the money we saved to be used as a part of our Easter offering.
Maybe Lent still is a big deal in some places for some people.
But those places and people are dwindling in number and size.
Yet, even in our busyness and our moving away from liturgical times like this, the Christian calendar and church bulletin still say Lent. And, Easter still awaits on the horizon. And, because for me, and I hope for you as well, Easter is about more than baskets and bunnies and the arrival of spring and has something to do with life made new and full and this promise of God we name as resurrection, Lent is worth paying attention to and Easter is worth getting ready for.
So, after a month of snow storms and changed plans and our trip to Nicaragua, I finally found myself with a few moments this week to think about Lent and to look ahead to Easter. And to ask myself where I was and how I was and what I needed to do so I was ready to stand here in this spot in front of all of you on Easter Sunday morning. As I often do as I try to get a sense of my own spirit and to plan for Sunday mornings, I flip through and read my Bible. This week I found myself drawn to two very different passages. The first is from the Apostle Paul’s Second Letter to the Christian community in Corinth. In the midst of the struggles faced by that young Christian community seeking to embody and to live a different vision of what life and world might be like than the one offered by the accepted norms of the surrounding culture and by Pax Romana, the Apostle Paul wrote:
“But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed but not driven to despair.”
I think I found myself paying attention to this verse because I get the clay jars part.
Fragile. Chipped. Easily broken
The jar with duct tape over a hole.
Leaking, yet the only jar available for me to use.
Clay jars describe my life.
Some days more broken and chipped and leaking than on other days.
Yet every day, no matter the condition, with work to do. Living to do. Interactions with others. Every day with both responsibilities and opportunities. Some days I feel serviceable. Other days I am leaking like a sieve.
I have this treasure which is my life, my faith, my gifts, my convictions, my small glimpse of truth and of God’s vision for tomorrow, in this fragile, chipped, leaking clay jar which is my life.
I have…
You have…
We have this treasure in clay jars.
Then there was this other verse.
A counterbalance to the first.
From John’s Gospel where the author of the Gospel has Jesus saying:
“I came that you might have life and have it abundantly.”
Abundant life.
Wow.
Full. Rich. Meaningful. Purposeful.
Embracing deeply both joy and sorrow.
That sounds so different from the chipped, fragile, leaking clay pot of my life. But, somewhere, somehow wrapped up in that abundant life waits the promise of Easter.
And, maybe that is something of what Lent is about.
Living in that tension between those two verses.
Being honest about how we are.
And about what our lives look like and feel like.
Honest, at least with ourselves.
And, maybe, if we can, with the ones we love the most and who love us the most. Stripping away the the masks and the smiles and the expected perfection. The doing all we can to appear to others that we are anything, but fragile and chipped.
And, yet holding onto…
Not letting go of…
That promise of Jesus of what God intends for us and for all.
Now this is the part of the sermon when I am suppose to wisely tell you how to do that. How to live creatively and well in that tension. Or, what the three steps or the five steps or the twelve steps are to help you get you from here to there.
From chipped to polished.
From broken to whole.
From leaking like sieve to perfectly put together.
So, if that is your expectations, my apologies.
I can’t do that.
I am trying to figure it out just like you are trying to figure it out. But, if I can’t tell you the steps, maybe I can offer you some clues in the form of reminders then we can work together on figuring it out.
First, there is abundant life.
I don’t know exactly what it is or what it feels like, but sages and saints to say nothing of Jesus remind me it is there. And so I do my best to remember. I do my best to remind myself to aim in that direction even if I don’t exactly know the way. I hold onto that hope and promise which is more than optimism or wishful thinking or naivete.
Second, abundant life is plural, not singular.
My abundant life has something to do with your abundant life.
Somehow I think we figure it out together.
As disciples.
As a community.
As God’s people doing our best to find our way.
Third, gratitude has something to do with it.
The more we are able to live saying Thank you…
The more gratitude shapes and drives our daily living…
The closer we get to knowing and living what Jesus was talking about.
Finally, there is love.
I hesitate to use this word because it too easily gets misused or misconstrued. Yet here it is the only word to use. Love as intimacy and honesty which, each day, pushes deeper and further into the wonderful mess of the world as it is which God has entrusted to our care and keeping. Love in action which expresses itself as compassion and justice.
So, here we are in the middle of Lent.
With clay jars.
Chipped. Fragile. Leaking.
Doing our best to find our way to that promised Life meant for us and for all.
The Day After…
Yesterday was Easter.
On a normal Monday I am tired.
On the Monday after Easter, I am even more tired.
I sit here wondering what one is to do on the day after resurrection?
It took so much energy to get to yesterday.
All I want to do now is take a nap.
And, do my best to enjoy it.
Or, hide somewhere until my energy returns and I figured out what comes next.
But, it doesn’t work that way, does it?
Today is the day I have.
The only day I have
To practice
And to be
Resurrection.
See My Hands…
So, here we are. Easter Sunday morning.
Spring has come early. The daffodils and Scilla are blooming.
The sanctuary is beautiful. The music inspiring.
And, the real life juxtaposition is stark.
Bombs explode in Brussels.
And in Ankara. And in Beirut. And in Baghdad.
Just as they have exploded in Oklahoma City and Birmingham, Alabama.
In the face of all that…
The violence of the cross and the violence in Brussels, and beyond the beauty of daffodils and lilies, we dare to gather to be reminded and to claim the astonishing promises of God wrapped up in the witness of the resurrection. That even in the face of all we see and read and hear about in the news, despair and death do not have the final word. Hope and Love and Life prevail.
However you understand resurrection or read the narrative of the women and the tomb and the angels and the stone rolled back and the incredulous, barely believing disciples. However you understand what it means to say…
He is not here.
Christ is risen.
Why do you seek the living among the dead?
And, whether you understand resurrection as something which happened to Jesus or something which happened to the disciples. Or the narrative as historical event or as a living parable.
Maybe it doesn’t matter.
At least, if you don’t stop there.
Maybe it doesn’t matter as long as you take the risk of asking the next two harder, more provocative, more turn the world right side up questions. The Biblical narratives of the resurrection of Jesus are incredibly nuanced, but the questions they leave for us to ponder and to answer are utterly simple.
Is it true?
And, if it is, where do you expect to meet Jesus?
So, first questions first.
However you understand the story, is it true?
Did something happen?
Did something happen between crucifixion and what came next.
Between scared to death disciples unwilling to leave the room where they were hiding to you and me here today.
If you answer yes, even if you are not sure exactly what happened or or how it happened or what it means, then you can also say Yes to the underlying witness of the story which is that even in the face of the torture and violence of Jesus’ death and the power and the ruthlessness of the Roman Empire to inflict that violence, all of that is not the end of the story and does not have the final word. For somehow beyond that ruthlessness and violence is the stone is rolled away and the angels who appear in the middle of what feels like the most desperate, heart-breaking situation and Jesus who meets us in those most common places and those most unexpected moments.
The witness of the resurrection…
The witness of Easter is that…
Hope lives.
Mercy lives.
Humanity lives.
Life, not Death, has the final word.
And, if you believe that is true, then that is how you are called to live. And hope and mercy and humanity and life are the values around which you are to orient your life. If, that is, you believe it is true.
And, the second question follows up on the first.
If it is true, all of what the Gospels bear witness to, then when and where do you meet Jesus? For even the empty tomb is not the end of the story. As I said last Sunday, for me, the witness of Jesus’ life is more parable than historical. More meant to show us who we are and how we are to live rather than a news account of where Jesus went and what he did and what he said. Because I think about Jesus that way and read the Bible that way, as I was reading the narrative again this week, I was struck by Jesus’ sudden appearance to the disciples as they hid huddled together in some forgotten room in Jerusalem.
“See my hands.” Jesus said.
“Give me something to eat.” Jesus said.
What if what he said is less about crucifixion wounds and being hungry and more about Jesus’ reminder to his disciples and to us of who he was and what he taught and who he included in the circle of God’s love? A reminder that “whatever you do for for one of the least of these you do it to me.” Whatever you do for all those who are wounded or abused or broken or endure violence in whatever form the violence takes. Whenever you meet the need of those who are hungry whether for food or respect or shelter or understanding or hope or courage or direction or forgiveness. “Whatever you do, you do to me.” And Jesus is present.
Could it be?
I think it is.
We meet Jesus out there amidst the wonder and the complexity, the breathtaking beauty and the heart-breaking brokenness of the world as it is when we find the courage to live and to respond with hope and mercy and to say yes to and to work towards God’s promise of new life. If, that is, you believe it is true.
No Reservations Required
Yesterday, I received this alert from a local online news outlet.
ALERT: Still time to make a reservation for Easter.
The alert was informing me there was still time for me to make reservations at area restaurants for Easter brunch or dinner. It appeared in my inbox at the same time I was making preparations for our Maundy Thursday worship and jotting down notes and ideas for what I want to say on Easter Sunday morning.
The juxtaposition between the news alert and the witness of the Gospels caught my attention.
On one hand, the headline urged me to reserve my place so I would not be left out. On the other hand, was Jesus who invited and included all especially those who, in every other way, were purposefully excluded. The headline advertised a meal which few can afford. Tonight we will remember and reenact a meal that is both priceless and free.
Of course, we are talking about two different Easters.
But at the Easter I prefer and the one I will celebrate no reservations are required.
And, all are invited.
