Knowing Where To Look

Scriptures

Acts 10:34-43             Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24

I Corinthians 15:1-11             Luke 24:1-12  

What a horrific week they’d had.  It had all started out so well – Jesus on a donkey riding into town, the disciples shouting, the crowds waving palm branches and laying their cloaks in front of Jesus – for all the world, it sounds like a rock concert, with groupies throwing their clothes at the band.   Sure, there was some grousing from the sidelines – the Pharisees, spoilsports that they were, told Jesus to make his disciples pipe down, lest they bring down the wrath of Rome with their shouts about King Jesus, the “king who comes in the name of the Lord.”  But Jesus brushed them off, so nobody else paid them any mind.

The crowds had perhaps hoped that Jesus would drive away the Romans occupying Jerusalem, but instead Jesus took on the Temple leadership, driving the moneychangers and sellers of animals out of the Temple, offering ambiguous answers to questions about whether it was lawful to pay taxes to Rome, and telling parables that implicated the Temple leadership. 

Then, after a final Passover dinner with his disciples, came the betrayal and arrest in the garden.  The warnings of the Pharisees came to pass, as the full weight of both the Temple leadership, in the persons of Annas and Caiaphas, and of Rome, in the person of Pontius Pilate and Herod, came down on Jesus full force.  Then came the awful events of Friday, when Jesus was nailed to a cross.  Even on the cross, Jesus was gracious to the end, asking God to forgive those who accused and executed him, and promising paradise to a repentant criminal.  But eventually, as the life ebbed from Jesus’ brutalized body, he said, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”  The body was taken down from cross and given to Joseph of Arimathea, who sympathized with Jesus.  Joseph wrapped it in a linen cloth and laid it in a tomb that had never before been used.  The women were there, watching all this.  Luke ends this section of the narrative with the anticlimactic sentence: “On the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment.”   A strangely offhand, matter-of-fact statement, ending such a narration of horror.

On the day of crucifixion, the women had no opportunity to anoint Jesus’ body for burial – Joseph of Arimathea’s spur-of-the-moment offer of a tomb was a moment of grace, but they hardly had time to wrap the body and lay it in the tomb before the Sabbath.  So early on Sunday, the women came to the tomb, carrying spices for anointing the body. 

When they got there, the stone had been rolled away from the tomb – which on one hand was a mercy, because they’d have had difficulty moving it, but on the other hand, they had to be concerned what they would find inside.  And what they found inside was…..the linen cloth in which Jesus  had been wrapped, but no Jesus.  Other than the linen cloth, the tomb was empty.

They were wondering what on earth this might mean – the possibility of resurrection wasn’t even on their radar – but then two men in dazzling clothes, who we can understand to be angels, said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?  He is not here, but has risen.  Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.”  Then they remembered his words.   The women  – and Luke goes on to give us some of their names - Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the Mother of James – went to tell the apostles, but the apostles did  not believe the women.  But then Peter ran to the tomb, looked in to see the linen cloths by themselves, and then went home – as Luke tells us, “amazed at what had happened.”

I’d like us to focus on the question asked by the two men, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”  The women had seen Jesus being nailed to the cross, had witnessed the death of Jesus on the cross, had seen him taken down from the cross, had seen him laid in the tomb.  He had died.  Where else would they look for him, but among the dead?  But the women were told, “You’re looking for him in the wrong place!  He was here, but he’s not here now, because he’s alive!  Look for Jesus among the living, not among the dead!”

The words of the two men to the women are for us as well.  “Why seek the living among the dead?”  We may have learned about Jesus from the Scriptures, from the witness of those departed saints who experienced him in their lives.  We may have learned about Jesus from our grandmothers and grandfathers, our fathers and mothers, who have gone on before us.  But Jesus is alive!  We remember what the Scriptures tell us, what our grandparents and parents have told us about Jesus – just as the women, when reminded by the angels, remembered what Jesus had told them when he was with them in Galilee.  But Jesus is alive – A L I V E, capital letters, exclamation point!  Jesus is not just a memory, or a piece of history, but a living reality, with us right here, right now, in this place, among us.  And it is because Jesus is alive that our grandparents and parents, and the writers of Scripture, and all the saints through all the ages, are also alive with him, in his presence, forever.  Jesus is alive, and Jesus is the life-giving one, the giver of life.

“Why seek the living among the dead?”  Our world offers us so many false places in which to look for life.  The old Coca Cola commercial said, “Coke adds life”, but we know that Coca Cola mostly adds calories and cavities.  So many products, so many activities, so many possessions, claim that they will add life, and they cannot.  And our own feelings can be deceptive; as a recent song by the group OneRepublic says, “Everything that kills me makes me feel alive” and “Everything that drowns me makes me want to fly.” So even our own feelings can be deceptive.

“Why seek the living among the dead?”  The life of Jesus as recorded in the Gospels models for us that which is lifegiving.  As Christ emptied himself for us, we are to empty ourselves on behalf of others.   As Jesus served the least, the last, and the lost, so must we.  In welcoming those whom society rejects, we welcome Christ.  As Christ was crucified, we also must be willing to suffer the crucifixion and putting to death of anything – economic security, our pride and our need for respectability, even, to the extent that they contradict the Gospel, our cherished traditions and beliefs – all self-seeking that stands between us and the ministry to which Christ calls us.  Only in letting go of our privileges and prerogatives, in being willing to part with worldly wealth and power, in serving others anonymously and sometimes thanklessly, in giving up our lives can we receive the true lives that God has in store for the faithful.

“Why seek the living among the dead?”  The Gospel, the Good News of Jesus Christ, is for the living – the living, whoever we are and wherever we are on our journey through life – infants and young children exploring their world while growing up in the care of the church, teens discerning God’s calling for their lives, young singles and couples just starting out, families of all configurations raising children, “empty-nesters” adjusting to life after their children have set out on their own, the elderly dealing with the dual challenges of aging, aching bodies and as well as the aching need to feel that, at the end of the day, their lives have some meaning, some purpose, beyond themselves.  Good news for the living, and especially the poor, those in need, who were at the center of the Saviour’s earthly ministry and so near the Saviour’s heart.  Our mission is to offer the gospel, the good news of Jesus Christ to the living, inside and outside the church, with all their blessings and all their burdens.    We are Easter people, with a message that though we pass through the midnight of grief, joy comes in the morning; that beyond despair is hope; beyond death is new life;  beyond every crucifixion is a resurrection, that while today may be Good Friday, Sunday’s a comin’. 

“Why seek the living among the dead? He is not in the tomb, but has risen!”  May our lives reflect the new life of the Risen Christ, and may our neighbors find the new life of the Risen Christ among us, the gathered congregation of Emanuel United Church of Christ. Amen.

 

Whom Do You Seek? (Easter Sunrise)

Gospel Reading:    John 20:1-18

The New York City Rescue Mission and the Silver + Partner Ad Agency set up what has been described as a “stunning social experiment”.  The point of the experiment was to prove how much we block out the sight of homeless people.  In the experiment, a member of a family dressed up as a homeless person and sat on a busy street where they knew that their loved one – a husband, wife, sister, brother, mother, father – passed by every day on their way to work.  The film crew recorded video to document whether the family member passing by would recognize their loved one dressed as a homeless person.  The results were shocking, depressing, even disturbing:  in the experiment, not one – not a single solitary one – of the passers-by recognized their husband or wife or brother or sister or mother or father when dressed as homeless persons.  As much as we may love somebody, the experiment showed that if that somebody is in a context we wouldn’t expect them, especially when disguised as someone considered undesirable – a homeless person – we avert our eyes. 

When I read about this experiment, I gained a bit more understanding for Mary Magdalene’s behavior in our reading from John’s gospel.  Each of the resurrection accounts in the four gospels has its own distinctiveness, it’s own “secret sauce”, you might say.  An element of the “secret sauce” that flavors John’s gospel is the recurring character referred to as “the disciple whom Jesus loved” – who turns out at the end to be the author.   In John’s gospel, it is Mary Magdalene who goes to the tomb alone, discovers it empty, and runs to tell Peter and this “disciple whom Jesus loved” what she saw.  The two men engage in an odd sort of footrace to the tomb, the beloved disciple reaching the tomb first but afraid to venture inside, Peter reaching it second but entering it first.  This may have had to do with some sort of jockeying for position among Jesus’ closest disciples.  So they get to the tomb, see that, “yup,  it’s empty, just like Mary Magdalene said”, see the grave clothes….and go home.  And if it had been up to the guys, that would have been the Easter story….empty grave, graveclothes wrapped up, something happened but we don’t know what, have a nice day.  Thank goodness Mary Magdalene went back to the tomb with the guys, presumably at her own pace, since she’d already done quite a bit of running that morning.

The guys go home, but Mary hangs around the tomb a while, crying, and eventually poking her head in.  She sees two angels, who ask her, “Why do you cry?”  Mary tells them, “they’ve taken away my Lord, and I don’t know where they’ve laid him.”  Then Jesus himself comes up behind her, and asks her the same question: “Why are you crying?  Whom are you looking for?”  Mary mistook Jesus for the gardener, and asks him, “Sir, if you’ve taken him away, please show me where you put him and I’ll take him away.”  Jesus says her name – “Mary” – and something in his voice prompted her to recognize him.  “Rabbouni” – meaning “Teacher!” – she says.   Apparently she also embraced him, because Jesus told her, “Don’t hold onto me….but go to my brothers and tell them, “I am ascending to my father and your father, to my God and to your God.”  And Mary goes back to the disciples and tells them what she saw and heard.

As I read this story, a few things struck me.  First of all is the difference in reactions to the news of the empty tomb.  In all four Gospels, the women are the first ones to reach the tomb, but only in Luke’s and John’s gospels do we read about Peter going to see the empty tomb.  In Luke’s gospel, Peter goes alone, but in John’s gospel, there’s this odd competition between Peter and the “disciple whom Jesus loved” – and when they get to the tomb, they take a look and go home.  It’s Mary Magdalene who stays, and for her faithfulness is rewarded with appearances, not only of angels, but of the Risen Christ.  But she doesn’t recognize Jesus.  There are similar accounts in other gospels; Luke tells us about the two disciples on the road to Emmaus who don’t recognize Jesus over the course of a seven-mile walk, until they are at table with Jesus and he breaks the bread.   In John’s gospel, the disciples are fishing - unsuccessfully – and it is not until Jesus tells them where to cast their nets and they pull up a big haul of fish that they recognize Jesus. 

Would we do any better?  To me, it’s a bit ironic that so few recognized Jesus after his resurrection, because today,  Jesus is one of the most recognizable icons in our culture.  Seemingly everyone has an idea what Jesus looks like.  You know the general look – long face, white, brown hair, blue eyes, generally looks “sensitive” or, put another way, perhaps a bit wimpy.   Even those who don’t go near a church, even those who hate everything the church stands for, can see a painting or illustration and say, “Oh, that’s Jesus.” 

I’d encourage those of you who didn’t already toss your bulletin inserts to look in the bulletin at the color insert.   There are pictures on both sides of the paper, and I apologize in advance for the poor quality of some of the printouts; for any interested, I can email the original files..  The one side has four photographs that I took at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, said to be where Jesus was crucified and buried – and, of course, resurrected, which is why local Christians in Jerusalem call it “The Resurrection Church”.   The other side has nine depictions of Jesus.  They are all very different, and I tried to pick a fairly wide range of images.  Some are quite old, others are quite modern.  I think the range tells us, among other things, that when we try to depict Jesus, we consciously or unconsciously end up putting quite a bit of ourselves into the depiction.  For example, to our eyes, the image of the Asian Madonna and Child may look a bit jarring.  On the other hand, given that the real earthly Jesus was a middle-eastern Jew, probably dark-skinned, born in what is now the West Bank, Palestine, our white Jesuses are just as inaccurate – and probably just as out of place in predominantly non-white cultures.  The images on the right side of the page are all fairly modern, and are strongly shaped by the perspective of the images’ creators.  There’s a “reward” poster of Jesus that was first printed in a socialist publication about 100 years ago, and depicts Jesus as a low-income worker who hangs out with the riff-raff of his society, and was killed by the respectable, good people of his day.  There’s a drawing called “Christ of the Breadlines” – and this is a popular motif within the Catholic Worker movement.  And then, of course, I couldn’t resist having a little fun by including a picture of Buddy Jesus from Kevin Smith’s movie Dogma. 

It is true that our sense of Jesus is shaped by our own formative experiences, our own views and life experience.  The Christ of the Breadlines or the socialist depiction of Jesus may be anathema to some; on the other hand,  younger viewers may not resonate with the more classical depictions.    A key insight of the Quakers is that everyone has “that of God” or “that of Christ” within them.  Will that of Christ within me recognize that of Christ within you?    And will the Christ within each of us recognize when Christ is doing something utterly new. Or will we mistake him for the gardener?

“Whom do you seek”.  May God grant us eyes to recognize Jesus, ears to hear his call, feet to take us where he is, hands to serve, and a tongue to proclaim good news.  Amen.

The Things That Make For Peace (Lenten service sermon)

Scripture                               Luke 19:41-48

Our reading tonight from Luke’s Gospel is actually slightly out of sequence for Lent, because it takes place either at the end of Luke’s account of Palm Sunday or very soon thereafter – it’s sort of hard to tell, as it all runs together in the Gospel.  Jesus has entered the city of Jerusalem, where he knows he is to be killed.  He enters the city to the shouts and waving palms and the acclaim of the crowds.  Some of the Pharisees try to rain on his parade by telling Jesus to make his disciples pipe down, but Jesus replies, “If these folks were silent, the stones would shout out!”

In Matthew’s and Mark’s Gospels, the next things Jesus does is to curse a fig tree that did not bear fruit and to throw the moneychangers out of the Temple.  But Luke includes a scene not in the other two Gospels.  As he approaches the city, Jesus’ mood changes, darkens.  He becomes overwhelmed with grief and begins to weep.  Even though he knows that he will soon be killed, his tears are not for himself, but for those who would soon kill him:  If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes.”  He goes on to predict the destruction of Jerusalem, “because”, as Jesus said, “you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God.”

That phrase, “the things that make for peace” snagged in my mind.  What did Jesus mean by that?  What are the things that make for peace, and in what way had Jerusalem missed out on them?

We remember that Jerusalem was a center of religious and political power – it had been so ever since King Solomon had built the Temple in Jerusalem, and then his own house almost next to it.  Religious and political power were intertwined.  Since Judea had lost its independence and fallen under Roman rule, Jerusalem was now only a local outpost of Roman rule, and the religious authorities by and large colluded with the Roman government, but still, political and religious power were centered in Jerusalem, extending out in a system of exploitation and domination over the region. And power corrupts. While the system had a veneer of law and long-held custom, ultimately, at least from a political point of view, might made right.  Or, you could say, they lived by Mel Brook’s version of the golden rule: he who has the gold makes the rules.  And while the Pax Romana – the Roman peace – held fast, it was a peace enforced by brutal suppression, with frequent crucifixions of troublemakers as a demonstration to would-be rebels of what would happen to them if they stepped out of line.  Indeed, lots of would-be liberators ended up on Roman crosses; but it is only the innocent and crucified Jesus that truly has the power to liberate us.

Jesus taught about a different kind of power, and a different kind of peace.  Jesus’ disciples repeatedly squabbled over which one of them was the greatest, and in response Jesus told them, “You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them.  But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.  For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”  Jesus taught, not about the kingdom of Rome, but about the Kingdom of God, which began small and in secret, like a mustard seed, but eventually spread and grew from the bottom up until it could overwhelm anything else growing in the field.

Two contrasting and mutually incompatible visions of power; two contrasting and mutually incompatible ways of life.  Rome and its allies among the religious establishment saw Jesus as yet another troublemaker, a threat to their power, and so they dealt with him as they had with so many troublemakers in the past.  As Jesus is quoted in John’s Gospel, “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God.  And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.”  It is striking that Jesus was put to death, not by the dregs of society, but by the cream of society, by the leaders of the Jewish faith and the representatives of Roman law, at that point the world’s greatest civilization.  Jesus confronted the best that humankind had to offer, and the best humankind had to offer put him to death.   “And that is the judgment, that the light came into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.”

What are the things that make for peace?  Rome enforced a brutal peace from the outside, from the top down, but the peace Christ offers begins from below and indeed from within.  Rome enforced its brutal peace in order to cling to its own power, its own privileges, its own priorities, but the peace of Christ comes from surrendering all of these to God’s will.  As Jesus said, “those who want to save their life will lose them, but those who would lose their life for my sake will save it.” 

Our society tempts us to grasp for so many things – bigger houses, larger incomes, more impressive job titles.  Most of all, we are tempted to try to have our own way, to impose our own will on those around us.  But do these things truly satisfy, truly bring peace – or are we, to tweak the old country song, “looking for peace in all the wrong places.”  Those who own large estates and control vast sums of money are rarely satisfied, but instead want even more – as oil tycoon H. L. Hunt said, “Money is just a way of keeping score.”  Jesus invites us to walk away from that kind of game and that kind of scorekeeping altogether.  Jesus told his followers, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.  I do not give as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.”  To know Jesus is to know peace.  May we always be mindful of the things that make for peace, and may others experience the peace of Christ through our witness. Amen.