Easter Sermon 2010

Text: Luke 24

The Easter sermon, what could be easier? Surely if there is one Sunday of the year when the preacher’s task is easy, this ought to be the one. For there is an expectancy in the air. There is a contagion on our numbers. There is an enthusiasm in the music that lifts us all. And there is, no doubt, within us a longing to hear again the affirmation of resurrection life.

But the Easter message? That is another matter! For in spite of all of our obvious sense of expectancy and preparation, there is something within us that resists the message. As evidence I want to tell you about an artifact I preserve from my father’s many years of service at the Presbyterian Church in Salina, Kansas. There was a time when a group would meet after the service to discuss the sermon. To facilitate this discussion a text of the sermon was supplied prior to the service, for note taking and reference in the discussion. One Easter Sunday the title of the sermon was Death, then Life! What makes this particular sermon memorable is that in the act of transcription, the secretary of the church, whose habit it was to put the sermon title on each subsequent page, transposed these two words, death and life. So after page one the title of the sermon appears as a header in bold print: Life, then Death! Now I don’t know if it was my father’s habit to proof the transcript but I am not sure it would have mattered. You see, this is what is so deeply embedded in our human experience. On Easter we proclaim Death, then Life! But once we are back into the world, the message returns to Life, then Death!

But we are in good company, for the disciples were slow in heart to believe, which is all the more astonishing given the greater degree of evidence that seemed to have. We would expect each of the gospels to agree on key points of Jesus’ life; his crucifixion, his resurrection, and each indeed tells this story. But it might be more remarkable to us that in each gospel we have evidence of Jesus’ followers moving from death to life, and then right back again to life to death. The women of Mark’s tomb who say nothing to anyone because they are afraid. Thomas, the disciple in John who will not believe until he can feel the physical evidence. The disciples on the road to Emmaus who can tell the story with their lips but cannot embrace it with their hearts. Matthew tells us of those who told the story that Jesus was not really raised at all, but had his body stolen by the disciples.

A few years ago the Discovery channel showed a feature wherein the lost tomb of Jesus was supposedly discovered which included, presumably, his bones. Now it doesn’t take much to interest the public in areas such as this, but I wonder if part of our fascination, if there really is any, is that some part of us hopes that this is true, because it would make things simpler. Because we do understand, at some level, that if Jesus is raised from the dead that changes everything. It is not only a hope for our own resurrection and the comfort that death is not the last word, but it also means that if Jesus is raised than what Jesus said was true--all of it-- and that the kingdom of God has come with power. We are called to live in the world differently. That is why the Easter message, as distinct from the Easter sermon, is not as easy.

I knew of a man once who was very much like the disciples in Luke's story. He was fully immersed in the Gospel story, but he kept it on an intellectual plane. Finally the man admitted his true difficulty. “If I were to admit that Christ was Lord, then I would have to give up things I have done all my life. I would have to change the way I make a living, and I can’t do that." He had heard the call correctly, for he knew that in a very real way he would have to die first if he were to follow Christ. Jesus said those who lose their life for my sake and the gospel will find it. Those so save their lives will lose it. That is the preamble to the resurrection message.

For the gospel tells us that resurrection is not just applicable to our physical death. When we allow God to enter into our lives and lead us in the ways of the kingdom, we can expect a resurrection-like change. But it is often so hard. But when the alcoholic abandons drink for good, when the Meth addict kicks the habit forever, when the teenager on the path to self-destruction reunites with his parents who have themselves discovered a responsibility to love him or her, there is resurrection. When we are able to face the imperfections that limit and immobilize us, when we can face the demons that deprive us of the fullness of life, then we know that our life--and the lives of others-- can change for the better. In these moments we understand and know in our hearts that the God who can and does transform lives here and now, that the God who invites us to die now to the self-destructive behaviors that keep us from being fully alive, that God is the same God who will be there at our physical death. And the God that loves and cares for us in this life will not abandon us at our death. That is the Gospel promise and that is the message of Resurrection.

But change is difficult. We know that. We don’t like it. Psychologists have taught us that even positive change brings great stress. There is a scale that measures stress in points and many of the life events with the largest number of points are things we would consider positive. The psychologists tell us the body knows no difference. Whatever the change, no matter how welcomed in one way, produces stress on our bodies and minds. We resist this impact. We resist change. And what could be greater change than the resurrection of Jesus Christ?

The disciples must have felt that way. Maybe this explains why they seemed so blind to the good news that walked beside them. If they had stress tests back then, how many points would you associate with Roman Occupation? Man claiming to be Messiah? Death of a close friend? Resurrection of a close friend? How many points could that possibly have? No, we don’t need to feel badly if we are slow to embrace all the resurrection means to us and to humanity generally. It is a big change. It leads us to make many changes, to open ourselves up in scary ways. Jesus invited us to die so that we might live with him in the kingdom. He invited us to take up the cross as he did. He walks with us on the dusty road and opens the scripture to us, breaks the bread with us and, as we recognize him in all of his glory, leaves us to carry on in his name.

History, your history and mine, our individual histories and our common history are a part of God’s ongoing act of creation and redemption. This does not mean that just any change is welcome or useful. The change that is worth the trouble is the change that gives growth and vitality to human life, to the church, to society. This is the message of Easter; it is of the Gospel of God active still in the course of human events. For God is a God of life. He calls us to commit ourselves to Him. He calls us to seek our security in him, and as we are willing to let all else go, to seek our security and place our trust only in him, then we know the glory of the Resurrection. Out of death, life. That is our hope, that is our experience and the reason why, in the midst of whatever change, or threat, or death, we look confidently and expectantly past the empty cross, the empty tomb, the emptiness of Easter, to the life beyond.