March 31, 2013
by James McCrea
Luke 24:1-12
One beautiful Spring day a few years back, I was driving to the University of Dubuque library. I had the radio blasting and was singing along and having a great time. When I found a place to park and turned off the engine, the contrast between the loud volume of music that had been ringing in my ears and the sudden quiet of the street, brought an instant image to my mind.
It was as if invisible musical notes had been flying out of the radio and piling up on the floor of the car, only to spill out on the street when I opened the door, making a musical snow drift that I had to trudge through in order to get to the library. Of course, all of that was in my imagination. Nothing really happened that anyone else could have perceived, but that didn’t make the experience less real to me.
And that’s the point another pastor was making when he described the day he was baptized. During that service, the preacher quoted these words from Colossians, “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory.”
As this future pastor walked home from his baptism, he thought about what those words meant. He says, “After you have been raised from the dead, you do not look the same, sound the same, talk the same, or behave the same.
“But what do you do? Should I dress a little better than I’ve been dressing? It wouldn’t hurt. How do you talk? What do you sound like? I went to school on Monday morning wondering, ‘Is anybody going to know that I’ve been raised?’ Do I talk another way? Do I throw in a verse or two of scripture now and then? What do I do at ball practice? Are they going to say, ‘Well, it looks like he’s been raised from the dead.’ How do you walk? How do you relate?
“How does it show that we have been raised with Christ, that we believe, not only in his resurrection, but even in our own? When you go to work, when you go to school, when you hang around with your friends, how does it show? […It shows through a life that] is compassionate, kind, humble, meek, patient, forgiving and filled with love.”
Easter is the highlight of every church year because it’s the day when we celebrate the fact that Jesus was able to absorb the worst that humanity could do to him and return to life, still offering love and forgiveness to anyone who would accept it from him, even those who put him to death.
It was an amazing event that totally altered the lives of those who followed Jesus, taking them from cowering behind locked doors and drawn curtains to boldly preaching in front of huge crowds. But if that were all that Easter meant, then it would be little more than a historical footnote — of some interest as a unique event from long ago, but hardly having any relevance to our modern life.
And sadly, that’s exactly how some Christians look at the resurrection — as if it meant nothing at all to the contemporary world. They continue to look for the living among the dead. In fact, every year about the time Holy Week rolls around there is a great online debate among certain pastors as to whether the resurrection was an actual or metaphorical event.
I always find that difficult to understand since the resurrection is the very heart of our faith. In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul said it this way, “If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have died in Christ have perished. If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied. But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have died.”
Through Christ’s death, the penalty for all our sins was absorbed. Jesus died for us, but rather than simply being revived, he destroyed the power of death and he extended that gift to us as well. And what that means to us is simply that we have realistic reasons for hope in the face of death. As he himself said, “Because I live, you shall live also.”
That understanding is, of course, important when we have lost a loved one. And so, as we stand at the edge of an empty grave, we can have the reassurance that even though our loved ones will not return to us here, we will still see them again some time.
But Easter means far more than a life after death. It means hope for a fresh start no matter where our bad choices or misfortunates may have led us. Easter means hope is real and available to us at any time and in any circumstance.
- In Russia, a few years back, a railway worker accidentally locked himself into a refrigerator car. Unable to escape or to attract any attention to his plight, he resigned himself to his fate. As he felt his body becoming numb, he took a pencil out of his pocket and recorded the story of his approaching death.
Here’s what he scribbled on the walls of the car: “I am becoming colder... still colder... I am slowly freezing... half asleep — these may be my last words.”
When the car was finally opened, the man was found dead, but the temperature inside the car was only about 56 degrees. Officials discovered that the freezing mechanism in that car was out of order and that there was plenty of fresh air available. So, they could find no physical reason for the man to have died. It was officially concluded that he had died because he had believed that he would die.
David Cobb writes, “Have you ever faced some life-changing, faith-challenging crisis that has thrown into turmoil all that you once held dear? Have you ever lost some key to your existence? Have you ever reached the breaking point and wondered if life is still worth living? The finances out of control, the relationship over, plans change, a brick wall in your path. Something in you breaks. The snap may be subtle, a hairline fracture of the soul barely noticeable to all but your closest friends, or it may crack with the force of a hurricane blast.
“If so, you’ve been to the tomb. Mary went with the other women to the tomb to bury her friend and mentor, the man who gave his life that she might live. She went prepared to lay him to rest, to honor his life and mourn, to shed a tear and rub the spices into his plastic-cold flesh. Perhaps she went with steely resolve, but I imagine her shoulders slowly shaking.”
But then in heart of her emotional darkness, the light of the resurrection dawned. Even though Jesus had told the disciples ahead of time about the resurrection, his words had seemed far too unrealistic — while his crucifixion was all too horrifyingly real — for anyone to actually believe his prophecy.
The terrifying power of Roma was visible everywhere; no one could withstand it. The crucifixion itself only served to provide further proof of that. Clearly, if Jesus could walk on water, still a storm and give sight to the blind, he had tremendous power. And yet, after a farcical trial, Rome’s governor squashed Jesus like a bug. If Jesus couldn’t stand up to Rome, what hope was there for anyone else?
And so Jesus’ followers — including the women at the tomb — were feeling grief, yes, but also hopelessness, despair and sad resignation. Injustice remained as deeply entrenched as ever and power continued to be exercised as an excuse for imposing one’s private agenda. Christ’s promises of a new creation seemed to be nothing more than a fantasy.
But then the Resurrection dawned. It was revealed slowly at first — it was a quiet surprise to the women at tomb. It was the punch line to a joke told in bad taste as seen by the disciples who couldn’t believe what those women told them.
But the Resurrection eventually dawned with all the radiance of God’s glory and, through the resurrection, the promise of Christ’s power to bring a new creation had become a fact. That same power remains with us today. And Christ’s power enables us to find genuine hope and joy in even the darkest of situations. As Mark Koenig puts it:
“There is no corner of the world where Christ is absent. No situation in our lives where Christ is not already present. In our homes and schools, our places of work and worship, in all the ordinary places where we live and have our being, there Christ is with us. To guide and lead us; comfort and challenge us. To bind up our wounds and share our burdens. To help pick us up when we stumble and fall. To empower and encourage our ministry in his name.
“When we gather to worship and pray, sing and study. When we work together. When we break bread and share the cup. Christ is present for Christ is risen! […] When we somehow keep hanging on. When we bear what we believed unbearable. When we find grace in the face of illness and courage for walking the valley of the shadow of death. When we care for one another, sharing tears and laughter and hugs. Christ is with us for Christ is risen! […]
“When we feed the hungry, visit the sick, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, house the homeless. When we pursue peace, provide opportunity, and seek to see justice done. When we seek to break down walls of prejudice and discrimination and hatred. When we pray and dream and plan and work to transform the church to include all of God’s precious children. When we are loved. And when we love. Christ is there for Christ is risen!”
So, in answer to the question posed earlier in this sermon, how do we live in order to show that we — like Christ — have been risen from the dead?
We can live in hope. We can offer ourselves to improving living conditions for people around the globe, drawing on Christ’s creative power. And we can know for certain that love is always stronger than hate, life is always stronger than death and hope is never misplaced. For Christ is risen and brings new life to everything he touches. Amen.
(Comments to Jim at :jmfpc@sbcglobal.net.)