Showing posts with label Easter Sunday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Easter Sunday. Show all posts

Sunday, April 08, 2012

Hope Springs from our Losing Battles

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday April 8, 2012, Easter Sunday.

Podcast of "Hope Springs from our Losing Battles" (MP3)


Isaiah 25:6-9
Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24
1 Corinthians 15: 1-11
Mark 16:1-8

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer.  Amen.

Our reading this morning is distinct among the gospel accounts of the resurrection. In Mark’s version we hear a most unlikely resurrection story. It’s a resurrection without Jesus. We’re left with an empty tomb, everything is left up in the air. Later editions of Mark’s gospel add stories of Jesus with Mary Magdalene and the apostles. There is another piece that adds a version of the ascension.  But these verses, the verses following the eighth, were added at least 250 years later. This oldest, most reliable version of Mark’s gospel leaves us with an empty tomb, but that is not how it begins.

It begins with Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome with spices, spices they would use for their Lord’s burial. Now, why bring the spices? The spices were to prepare the body and should have been used before Jesus was placed in the tomb. But I ask then, why the spices at all? The purpose of the spices was to preserve the body. The preservation of the body and the aromatic quality of the spices would help keep down the wretched smell of decay. After the three days from Friday to Sunday, a corpse that was not handled properly would begin to stink. We learn this from the death of Lazarus and he was placed in the tomb properly. Even from the sealed tomb, there would be an odor.

Friends, these three women knew they were about to fight a losing battle with the spices. From their combined experience they would have known that when they reached the tomb what they were prepared to do would have been at least ineffective and at worst a waste of time. Still they went, not out of obligation, but out of love.

They also knew that once they reached the tomb, opening it would have been nearly impossible. The stone was probably round like a millstone. To seal the tomb it would have rolled and dropped into a groove carved out for it. It would have been fairly easy to roll in, but very difficult to roll out. They knew, they even said to one another that this was going to be a losing battle. From their combined experience they would have known that when they reached the tomb what they could do would have been at least ineffective and at worst a waste of time. Still they went, not out of obligation, but out of love.

Earlier this week I read a little nugget of wisdom about human endeavor in scripture. This piece of wisdom was that scripture is filled with human failure. It’s kind of demoralizing to say, but it’s true. It doesn’t require a close study to see that people mess things up. Sometimes messes are caused by disobedience. Other times it’s circumstances playing themselves out. This is an example of the latter; there was really nothing these women could do at the tomb. They were on a fool’s errand. But I say again; they went, not out of obligation, but out of love.

When they arrived, they found what they were not expecting. They found the tomb open. They did not find a stench. They found a young man in a white robe and they were alarmed. Friends, we know how this ends so we can smile in the firm and certain knowledge of what has happened; but at this moment these women did not. Being “alarmed” would have been the only responsible reaction to what they found at the tomb.

So the young man cries out “Do not be alarmed!” (Yeah, right, sure…) Then he tells them while they were still alarmed and on their way to being afraid, “You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen!”

The Reverend Doctor Michael Jinkins wrote: “Over seventy years ago, a young minister named Karl Barth addressed a group of ministers and told them why people came to church.  His words became a clarion call to his generation and they still echo today.  He said that on any given Sunday morning, when the bells ring calling the people to worship, there is in the air an expectancy that something great, something crucial, something momentous is going to happen.  People, he said, come to church wanting to know the answer to one question above all else: ‘Is it true?’”[i] This ending of Mark’s gospel causes the reader to ask that very question.

Mark’s gospel has none of the meticulous precision of Luke’s. Matthew’s many references to the Jewish Law are missing too. Mark makes us ask questions—and this ending makes us ask the questions, “Is it true? Did Jesus rise from the dead?” Today we testify, “Yes, he is risen.”

This is a bold statement of faith. It doesn’t come to us by scientific method, but that’s not what a faith statement does. Faith is the “firm and certain knowledge of God’s benevolence toward us, founded upon the truth of the freely given promise in Christ, both revealed to our minds and sealed upon our hearts through the Holy Spirit.”[ii]

Our faith is founded on the truth of the freely given promise in Jesus Christ, the Messiah given to us in the word written and proclaimed, the promise that he is with us through the ages. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, God’s own spirit, we are able to interpret the word finding God’s loving kindness toward us as Jesus continually intersects our lives.

Our faith cannot be founded on what we do because to find faith in our failures is futile, and this is the Good News. If our works are in vain then our hope can only come through the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus. This morning we read of three women who approach the Lord with hope, hope that their impending failure will have any effect at all. They go to fight a losing battle, but by showing up, they see that by Christ the battle is won.

Hope springs from their losing battles, hope springs from our losing battles because our failures give God room to work miracles.

Through faith and hope we find the Lord at work in our lives. Through faith and hope we become free to live in the truth of Jesus Christ. Through faith and hope, we can become sure of the meaning of our own existence, our own humanity.  Through faith and hope can we say “He is risen.”

We testify our faith in Jesus as our risen Lord using the words of the Apostle’s Creed. But the creed is not about our faith, it is about the one in whom we have faith. The words describe the triune God as the church understands each of the three persons. The creed reminds us Jesus was crucified, dead, and buried; and on the third day he rose again from the dead.[iii] The words of the ancient church for over 1,800 years, the creed has helped us state what we believe about the triune God.

We bear witness to our confidence in the faith through the sacraments, the outward signs instituted by God to convey inward grace.[iv] One of the marks of the true church is the right administration of the sacraments.[v]

In the waters of our baptism we are born, cleansed, and live. The waters provide refreshment for our bodies and our lives. Baptism initiates us, brings us into the body of Christ. Jesus rose from the waters of the Jordan and when we come from the water we are new in Christ. From the tomb of the waters and from the tomb of the grave, He is risen.

As we journeyed together along the road to Golgotha this week we are fortified with the meal of grain and vine, the bread and the juice. “Through this bread, there comes about what we see in the gospel: a fellowship of pilgrims, a fellowship gathered around the apostles, a fellowship of a meal that includes everyone, a fellowship of one single pilgrim path to God.”[vi] This is the meal we share until Christ comes again in glory.

People of faith and people seeking faith want to know, “Is it true?” Mark leaves the question up in the air. Being told “he is risen,” in the last verse of the gospel, the women who came to prepare Jesus’ body left the tomb terrified and amazed. Barth frames our quest this way: “They reach, not knowing what they do, towards the unprecedented possibility of praying, of reading the bible, of speaking, of hearing and singing of God.”[vii] For us, God is revealed in the person of Jesus Christ. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, we are able to answer Barth’s question with hope and confidence.

Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Salome left the tomb afraid to speak to anyone. They were told to spread the news of the empty tomb, Jesus is returning to Galilee. We are called to spread the good news too. Through the hope of God’s loving kindness we can live a life of faith daily. We proclaim, we confess our faith using the words of the creed. Through the sacraments, we participate in the outward signs instituted by God to convey inward grace.

Through the water, the bread, and the wine we share in the elements Jesus used to identify himself with the community. We become the body of Christ as the church, through these elements of thanksgiving. Through the word, faith, hope, and the sacraments we answer the question. This is how we show the world what we believe. We do this not out of obligation, but out of love. This is how we say, “Yes, it is true. He is risen. He is risen, indeed.”

[i] Jinkins, Rev. Dr. Michael. Transformational Ministry, Church Leadership and the Way of the CrossEdinburgh: Saint Andrew Press, 2002, page 33.
[ii] Calvin, John. Institutes of the Christian Religion, McNeill, John T. Ed., Volume III, Chapter 2, Section vii.
[iii] PC(USA) Book of Confessions, 2.2
[iv] Augustine
[v] PC(USA), 3.18, 5.134
[vi] Rahner, Karl, in Eucharist, A Source Book, Liturgy Training Publications, 1999, Chicago, page 19
[vii] Ibid. Jinkins

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Come and See

This sermon was heard at the First Presbyterian Church in Marshall, Texas on Sunday April 24, 2011, Easter Sunday. He is risen. He is risen, indeed.

Podcast of "Come and See" (MP3)

Jeremiah 31:1-6
Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24
Acts 10:34:43
John 20:1-18

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer.  Amen.

I ended last week’s sermon,[1] with these words:

The powder keg is lit and it leads to Pilate and the glory of Rome. The fuse he lights also leads to the Temple, and the scribes and the Pharisees. The fuse is lit; the course of history has begun. Eventually the spark will reach the charge and an explosion the world has not forgotten will blow.

In the mean time, much will happen:

There will be prophecy, and there will be prophecy fulfilled.
There will be scrutiny, and there will be examination.
There will be a supper, and there will be a betrayal.
There will be a trial, and there will be a judgment.
There will be a torturous death.

Surely by now the people would have thought that the powder keg had blown. The people have seen the Lord’s betrayal on Maundy Thursday and his crucifixion on Good Friday. The unthinkable has happened, the Lord God is dead.  But that wasn’t the end of the sermon, and death was not the end of the Lord as we heard in today’s reading.

It’s early on the first day of the week.  The Sabbath is coming to an end, but it’s still dark. Until the sun rises it’s still the Sabbath and Jews don’t leave their homes until the Sabbath ends.

Not Mary Magdalene, she’s gone to the tomb. The Chief Priests wouldn’t be out and about yet, but the Romans would be. If she is found she could be in trouble. For violating the Sabbath certainly, but if she is found at the tomb they would assume she was one of Jesus’ partners in revolution. This the Romans would not take lightly.

When she comes to the tomb she sees that the stone had been removed from the entrance.  Scripture is silent, but perhaps she looked into the open tomb, for just a moment.  If she didn’t look in, she must have had a sinking feeling in her heart.  Either way, she had come to the correct conclusion.  Jesus’ body was not there.

She has come and she has seen and Jesus was gone.

The Lord is not there, how can this be?  Mary sees the open tomb, overwhelmed by grief and maybe by panic she runs to Simon Peter and the beloved disciple to tell them.  The Lord has been taken from the tomb and we do not know where they have laid him. 

Mary’s panic is shared by the two disciples.  They run together, Peter falling behind as they race to the tomb.  The other disciple arrives first, looking in he sees only the linen that had been wrapped around Jesus.  Peter arrives on his heels and we read that he is the first who dares to enter.  Peter too sees the cloths that had been around his body and the wrapping that had covered his head and face folded, set aside by itself.

After the other disciple entered the tomb, they saw and they believed.  They believed that he was gone.  Simon Peter and the beloved disciple; they had entered the tomb of their Lord and Master, and his body was gone.  Scripture is silent, but would I be wrong to think they were devastated?  He is tried, he is crucified, and now he is gone.

They have come and they have seen and Jesus was gone.

Logic says he was taken.  If the authorities thought that they had taken him, if they thought these disciples had taken this rabble rouser’s body to cause more religious unrest, then they would be next on the Pharisees’ and Pilate’s enemies list.

They didn’t understand what had happened.  They didn’t understand the scripture.  So they did what seemed sensible.  They needed to sort out what was happening.  They needed to mourn.  They may have needed to hide.  So they went home. 

Mary remains crying at the tomb.  Her Lord is dead and missing.  The two people she shares her worries with have abandoned her.  She is alone again.  She is lost.  She is distraught.  She cries and she looks into the tomb.  What else can she do?

Suddenly she finds two angels sitting in the tomb. They ask why she is crying.  She repeats her lament, “They have taken my Lord away, and I do not know where they have laid him.” Can you hear her heart breaking?  Flowery speeches are unnecessary. “They have taken my Lord away, and I do not know where they have laid him.” Then, she turns and sees a man she doesn’t recognize standing before her.  Who is this man? she wonders. Did he take the body of the Lord? 

He breaks the momentary silence repeating the angels’ question, “Woman, why are you crying?” adding “Who is it you are looking for?” Scripture tells us Mary supposed he was the gardener. This supposition would have given him the benefit of the doubt; she may have also thought he was a thief or a fool.  

Only a fool wouldn't know what had been going on in Jerusalem over the past week. The Passover was only a part of what was happening now. The Nazarene, Jesus came into Jerusalem triumphantly on the back of a colt. Later, he was tried as an enemy of the state or of the church depending on the accuser. Then he was crucified with two criminals. This was his crypt, and if this man was the gardener either he was oblivious to the events of the last week or he was the one who moved the body.

She answers his question without contempt toward its foolishness, but she is not above suspecting this gardener of taking Jesus. “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him and I will get him.” How Mary is going to carry the dead weight of a man is irrelevant. If this gardener knows where the body is, she will retrieve it and return it to its proper resting place.

It’s the least she can do. The Lord delivered Mary from her life in the world to life with him. The gospels tell different stories about Mary and her history, but there is one thing that is certain. Jesus finds Mary and then she becomes useful to his ministry. Carrying him to his final resting place is the least she can do.

Her world is shattered. Being useful in this small way is all she can think to do. It is all she dares to believe she can do. What else is there? 

Jesus then calls her by name. “Mary!” She turns and recognizing him calls out “Rabboni.” It’s amazing; she doesn’t recognize the Lord until he says her name and that makes all the difference in the world.

She has come and she has seen her Lord and her God.

She is flooded with emotion. The warmth must be glorious. Her tears of grief and fear become tears of joy and relief. The Lord reveals himself to her by saying her name. She has found him and the world is turning anew. She rushes to him, she clings to him. Then Jesus tells her this is not yet the time for he has not yet returned to the Father. Jesus tells Mary to tell the brothers, “I am returning to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.”

Mary does as she is told. She comes back to the place where the disciples are staying and she tells them what she has seen and what the Lord has shared.

There’s such a difference a moment makes in our lives. Mary’s world has been turned over three times in the last three days, the twice within the last hour or so. If she is running she is skipping. If she is walking she is walking on sunshine. Life is never going to be the same. Her Lord lives. And she is trusted to take the Good News to the others. “I have seen the Lord,” and life, which had all ready been turned on its ear, is turning again.

She comes and sees; then she says “I have seen the Lord.”

Come and see. It’s a recurring theme in the Easter story. Mary comes and sees the tomb. She then comes back to the disciples and sees them. Mary, Peter, and the beloved disciple come back and see the tomb. Then comes the glorious turn, Jesus comes and sees Mary. Mary finally recognizes him and sees her Lord.

This is the ebb and flow of scripture, we come and we see. We come and we hear. We come and we receive. We come and we receive the visible signs of God’s invisible grace. Today is no exception, today is the most glorious example.

There are so many other things I want to say today, so many things, but that’s not why we came. We came to hear the Easter Story. We came to celebrate Wilda Leigh joining this part of the Body of Christ. We came to celebrate the sacraments: Belle’s baptism and the Lord’s Supper.

We came because Mary came. We came because Peter came. We came because the beloved disciple came. And most of all, we came because Jesus came. This is why we come and this is what we see.

If you remember, there was more to last week’s sermon. After I said “There will be a torturous death.” I followed with these words:

And there will be a glorious resurrection.
Hosanna! The fuse is lit. Let it burn.
And I’ll see you next Sunday for the big explosion.

Today we have come and we have seen the big explosion.

He is risen. He is risen indeed.