Easter 2002

Considering the Collapse of the World

The Rev. Bruce R. Bramlett
Rector, St. Paul's Church

What does it feel like to watch everything in your world collapse? What might it feel like to watch a person you love killed and be powerless to do anything about it? What sort of agony and darkness would fill your vision and your senses making it all but impossible to even carry out the most basic of day to day tasks. Grief is like that. Debilitating and seemingly without respite. That's why most societies have elaborate rituals to fill the empty blankness and darkness with things that have to be done.

Today we have come to this beautiful Easter Service to hear a word of hope for we are not so unlike those first disciples reeling from the shock and trauma of Friday's events. Since September 11, we also know the world to be a darker place. We awoke this morning to news coverage of tanks and killing in the streets of the middle east between Israelis and Palestinians, to news of more and deadlier terrorist bombings and more death from war and violence. We open our newspapers to learn of thousands of children and mothers dying of AIDS in Africa, starvation in Somalia and endless grief in other parts of our world. We are shocked when a parent murders their own children and we can't seem to make sense of the world we're in. Yes, we are indeed not so far from Mary and those disciples that dark Easter morning.

Mary went to the tomb of Jesus in the darkness of that predawn first day of the week to do the only thing she could do--to be in the presence of her dead companion's corpse. And now this. The stone before the mouth of the tomb had been moved and she knew that something was wrong. Couldn't "they" have left Jesus in the only peace that he could now know. She ran to get the other disciples and Peter and the disciple Jesus loved came running only to confirm her worst fears. Jesus' body had indeed been taken away. Where could they have taken him? Who could have done such a thing? What was to be done now. Scared, confused, angry and grief-stricken, she weeps at the tomb and looking in isn't even impressed by two figures who ask her why she's weeping. Someone has taken away Jesus' body and she wanted to know where they put him. That body was all she had left.

Mary's world, like that of the other disciples was shattered by the Roman government's execution of their leader and the scattering of the movement. Their's wasn't the only revolutionary movement that Rome had crushed. Rome was good at crushing Jewish liberation movements and Jesus had made quite a stir with his mock triumphal entry into Jerusalem and enciting activities and rallies in the city during the already tense Passover week pilgrim festival. Rome was taking no chances and they used their quisling Jewish temple leadership to carry out their dirty work. But crucifixion was their particularly gruesome way of telling others of their fate should they be so stupid as to threaten the status quo.

Then she turns and sees a man who seems to be a gardener and again demands to know what happened to Jesus. Again, the stranger asks why she's weeping and who she's looking for. Again, Mary can't even see this man she's talking to through her tears and pleads to know where they have taken him. Then there is that exquisite, all confusing yet intensely real moment of recognition. Jesus calls her name and through the flood of tears and grief, she hears what she could not see. She hears her name spoken by that familiar voice that she would never forget. It was the voice of her master.

Here's the part of the story that we all might have written differently because as she lunges toward Jesus, he tells her not to hold on to him but to go and tell the disciples that he's alive. Not even here, not even now will Mary be able to have her beloved Jesus back. Everything is now changed. Yet, she knows he's alive! What a poignant moment.

On this Easter Sunday, we're invited to hear some important things in this story for Mary provides us an opportunity to reflect on this resurrection business.

First, resurrection means that we search in vain for things that are dead. Just like Mary, we all know what that feels like. How do you and I hold onto the past with clutching terrified hands as if there will be nothing left if we let go. Many of us are harassed by our memories and our past, whether it's the many regrets or hurts that we nourish and carry around with us, holding them in treasured places in our hearts, minds and spirits, carefully tending that past because we're afraid that if we let it go we won't be left with anything. We hold on, even when that past destroys our possibility of living in the present or having a future or even recognizing our future when it calls our name inviting us to new life. Better hang onto what we know. There are as many ways of worshiping at the tombs of the past as we can imagine but all of them have one thing in common; life lived there is life lived among the dead and the risen Lord isn't to be found there. Easter declares that great reversals are not only possible but that they actually occur. New life is ahead of us, not behind us. The tomb is empty and the old has passed away. Dare we live that way?

Resurrection also means that following Jesus is a never-ending process of losing and finding him again. The moment we think we've got Jesus all figured out, the moment we think we've captured and domesticated him, he alludes us. Every expectation that we have of gaining control over this unmanageable Lord is bound to come to grief. Following Jesus is not a matter of believing the right things about him nor is it about following all the rules of life. Discipleship is not about getting everything right. It is about our willingness to take up the tasks of our lives and live with trust that the divine love and compassion will triumph. Our attempts to secure our lives by playing it safe are just attempts to find a dead Jesus in a tomb. He's not there.

What we proclaim this day is nothing sentimental. Our faith must be a faith that can grapple with the darkness of the world we live in just as Good Friday's tragic pain was real and Jesus' death really happened. While we gather in the beauty and glory of this spring day with all the natural wonder of new life around us, we must be constantly conscious that nature and the natural cycle of rebirth is but a pale analogy to the newness of Resurrection life that we proclaim. There is nothing in nature that can provide an adequate basis for some rational understanding of Easter's Good news. Easter is not amenable to intellectual assent and the Christian faith is not a matter of believing in some doctrine. We, like Mary and those disciples must encounter a living, resurrected Lord. What happened to the disciples that day transformed them and turned their world upside down. In every generation, the Risen Lord comes among us, calls us each by name and engages us to follow where he leads. In this Easter season we will need to unpack the meaning of this day and its proclamation for our own lives in faith. What does resurrection mean after 9/11 and in the midst of the pain of our world today? How are we now called to live?

Finally, like Mary, the Risen Lord calls us all by name. In baptism, each of us is called out to take up our walk of faith in the world with those early disciples. Last evening, we baptized Kelly Elizabeth Robinett and in that service I made the sign of the cross on her little forehead and proclaimed that she was sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ's own forever. Forever! Each of us, also called in baptism has been called to respond to the risen Lord's invitation to follow and we belong to him. While we may turn our backs on that call, the Risen Christ will never let us go. We also are called into resurrected life. Over and over again we are invited to live into that trust that new life is the destiny of us all. The empty tomb is our sign that we are free. Again, we must ask, how do we live in our world if we are really free?

We, like Mary and those first disciples in that cemetery that morning have become resurrected people and we are called to become a resurrection community. In the midst of our darkened world this day we are called to live out of our deepest conviction that God's ultimate power to bring forth new life extends to all aspects of our world, our own lives and the life of this community here at St. Paul's. Our life together as a community is our commitment to discover what that calling looks like for ourselves and others here and now. But for right now, just on this special day we need to summon up all the joy and fervor in us to proclaim with Mary, He's alive! Christ is Risen, He is risen Indeed! Alleluia!