03/27/05

Confronted with Life

Acts 10:34-43
Colossians 3:1-4
Matthew 28:1-10

It's very tempting to begin an Easter sermon with an up-beat mood, with a cutesy story or at least a bit of humor as I did last year - remember the rabbit and the can of hair spray? Easter is a joyous day, the happiest day in the Christian year; why, then, spoil it with doom and gloom? But the reality is that Easter closely follows Good Friday, and we can't fully celebrate the joy and new life of Easter unless we have experienced in some small way the agony and death of Good Friday.

So, for just a few minutes remember with me the events of that terrible day, a day that was hardly a chocolate-egg-and-fuzzy-bunny kind. If you saw "The Passion" movie you can easily imagine it. Listen to the crowds shouting, "Crucify him!" Only a week before they had been singing "Hosanna!" Can you feel the searing lashes of the scourge, the terrible flogging inflicted on Jesus' beaten body? Can you feel the thrust of the crown of thorns as it is smashed over his head, piercing his brow, causing blood to trickle down his forehead? The crown of thorns may have looked something like this. [show crown of thorns and return under pulpit] They spit on his face, their slimy saliva mingling with his own blood, sweat, and tears. Then there's the cross, the heavy, wooden cross. Try lifting it if you can, try dragging it past the jeering, taunting crowds. Then at last on to Golgatha, spike nails hammered in, agonizing pain, sickening nausea, the relentless heat of the sun. Feel the life slowly seeping out. Hear the dry, parched lips that whisper, "Father, forgive them; for they do know not what they are doing" and "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Do you hear him cry out these words? And then at last, death, merciful and oh, so final. (i) "Were you there when they crucified my Lord?"

Joseph of Arimathea gets permission to remove Jesus' body from the cross. He wraps the body in a clean linen shroud, lays it in his own newly-hewn tomb, a cave-like place, and rolls a very large stone down the slight incline, blocking the entrance to the tomb. Two women, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, watch the whole procedure. The next day, some of the religious leaders continue their plotting and scheming. They don't want Jesus, even a dead Jesus, getting in their way any more. "Let's make sure his followers don't try to steal his body and then claim that he's risen from the dead. Seal the entrance to the tomb and place guards there. That will insure against any conspiracy." And so they do. And that's it. That's the end of the story, or so it seems.

But as incredible as it may sound to unbelievers, that is not end of the story. Death is not the last word. What seems like the end is really a beginning, a new beginning, not only for God's son and his disciples, but also for each of us. The two women go again to the tomb. Why? - grief, lovesickness, duty, curiosity, tradition - probably a mixture of human virtues and emotions. But once there, in the near-dark/near-dawn, they are chosen as the worthy recipients to hear the most glorious good news humanity has ever received. They go to the tomb expecting death, expecting a continuation of their grief and sorrow. Instead, they are confronted with life.

Easter confronts all of us with life. It has ever since that first Easter dawn, and every Christian sermon, from Peter's earliest ones right up to the present day, have had basically the same message: confronting people with the Resurrection - with life - and asking us to choose between death and life, between fear and great joy. This doesn't seem like such a hard choice, yet it often is. Life confronts us by way of fresh opportunities, new relationships, new challenges. And yet, sometimes we balk, we're not sure, we hesitate, looking for ironclad guarantees, hoping for a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The letter began, "Dear John" - an inauspicious beginning. "Dear John: Words cannot express the deep regret I feel at having broken our engagement. Will you please come back to me? Your absence from me leaves an emptiness that no one can ever fill. Please forgive me, and let us start over again. I love you, I love you, I love you. Your adoring Sally. P.S. Congratulations on winning the Lottery." (ii) Funny, isn't it, how a dead-end situation can suddenly take on new life.

It's how we respond when life confronts us that makes all the difference in the world. Are we paralyzed with fear, like the guards at the tomb? If so, we probably won't respond very well. Or are we more like the women who are also fearful? Their fears, I think, may not have been so much fear of the supernatural or of heavenly angels, as fear of something deeper, something that catches them completely off guard. Their fears result, I'd say, from the presence of life when they are expecting death. The hard and at times disconcerting truth is that they and we are confronted at Easter not with a dead but with a living Christ. (iii)

The whole notion of death and resurrection and eternal life is not only difficult to comprehend, but also frightening. We're faced with a hard question: what are we really afraid of - death or life? This may be the question underlying the tragic and complex case of Terri Schiavo unfolding in Florida. Her husband argues that she would want to be free, to be released from this non-life existence. Her birth family wants to continue to keep her alive, and cannot bear the thought of saying goodbye to their loved one. What role does faith play in all this? And what is God's will, people wonder? It seems that human intervention thwarted God's will fifteen years ago when she had her heart attack in the first place. I doubt that removing life support now is contrary to God's will - yet passions rage on both sides. All those involved should be in our prayers regardless. And let's also pray that God might, in spite of human interference or wisdom, bring Terri at the last to her own glorious resurrection. (iv)

In our lives, I hope that our fears will not immobilize us, for if we dwell on death, we may not give life a chance. Afraid to fail, we may no longer risk. Afraid that someone will see behind our masks, we may no longer share of ourselves. Afraid to appear as if we need help, we may no longer allow ourselves to be vulnerable or open. These fears may result in our not taking seriously the resurrection, or not believing in a living Christ, or not allowing ourselves to become fully human and fully alive. (v)

Back to the women at the tomb. Both the angel and the Resurrected Christ speak to their fears loudly and clearly: "Do not be afraid." This is a word for us also on this Easter morning. Do not be afraid of the new opportunities, relationships, or challenges that the future may hold. Do not be afraid. The Lord will be with you. The stone was rolled away on that first Easter, not so much to let Jesus out, as to let us in, to let us in on the mystery of death and death-like experiences in life, and to take away their sting, to assure us that nothing in life, even death itself, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. When the women hear the good news, they turn their backs on the grave and run with joy to tell the disciples that Christ has risen. Because of Easter, we too can turn our backs on the grave, we too can now begin to live with the terror and the power of the grave behind us. The power of love, the love of Christ, is the love that casts out fear and enables us to respond fearlessly.

We began by looking at the events of Good Friday, mindful that we can't fully appreciate the resurrection until we've experienced the pain of the crucifixion. A problem for some of us, though, is that we can't get beyond Good Friday, we can't move beyond the pain, the suffering, the disappointments in our lives, to experience that which confronts us with new life. Every year, so I understand, thousands of people climb a particular mountain in the Italian Alps, passing the "stations of the cross" to worship at an outdoor crucifix. Few tourists notice a little trail leading beyond the cross, but those who do, after hiking through rough thicket, to their surprise, come upon another shrine, symbolizing the empty tomb. It is neglected and underbrush has grown up around it. Almost everyone goes as far as the cross, but there they stop. Far too many of us get to the cross and know only too well the despair and heartbreak. But far too few of us move beyond the cross to find the real message of Easter, the life-confronting message of the empty tomb. (vi)

There's a lovely old legend that tells of a minister who finds the branch of a thorn tree twisted around so that it resembles a crown of thorns, like this one. [show the crown of thorns and return to under the pulpit] Thinking it an appropriate symbol of the crucifixion, he places it in his church on Good Friday. Early on Easter morning he remembers that it's still there, and not wanting to have this harsh symbol in the sanctuary on Easter, he hurries back to the church to remove it before folks arrive for the early service. But when he goes into the sanctuary, he finds the thorn branches ...[show blooming crown of thorns] blooming with beautiful flowers. Looking to find a symbol of death, he is confronted with life. (vii)

What I wish for each of us on this Easter morning is that we will be so confronted with life, so confronted with the power of love, that we'll respond without fear and with great joy. Paul says to the Colossians: "Seek the things ... set your minds on things that are above..." Easter reminds us to be aware of new possibilities, new dimensions in life, for indeed, we have already been raised with Christ. How we respond to this good news makes all the difference in the world. May God bless us on this Easter Day and empower us to turn our backs on the grave, to turn our backs on our fears, and to joyfully turn our faces to the future, choosing life with faith, hope, and love. The flowers are blooming again. Alleluia! Amen.

The Pilgrim Church of Duxbury
Rev. Kenneth C. Landall

i The Pastor's Story File, 30.2.
ii Pulpit Resource, 3/20/86.
iii Robert D. Simpson, Word & Witness, 4/3/83.
iv Timothy Merrill, Homileticsonline.com, 3/23/05.
v LaVon Koerner, Doran's Minister's Manual, '82, p.242.
vi PSF, op. cit.
vii PR, 4/19/87.