What Did You Expect?

Acts 3:12-19
Now when Peter saw the people he replied to them, “People of Israel, why wonder about this? Why stare at us as if, by our own power or piety, we had made this man walk? The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of our ancestors, has glorified his servant Jesus, whom you handed over and repudiated before Pilate, who had decided to release him. But you repudiated the holy and righteous one and asked that a murderer be given to you, and killed the Prince of Life, whom God raised from the dead, of which we are witnesses.
Now through faith in his name, this one whom you see and know was strengthened by his name and this faith through him gave him this wholeness before all of you. And now, brothers and sisters, I know that you acted in ignorance, just as your rulers did. But God, who foretold through the mouths of all the prophets the suffering of his Christ, fulfilled all this. Therefore, repent and return to the one who blots out sins.

This being Fiddler on the Roof weekend here at Franktown, I thought about titling this sermon, “What I Have Learned From Three Months as a Foot Soldier in Judi Tracy’s Army.” What a long, strange trip it’s been to get this production together. Most of you have had some experience with what’s involved, but this was a new thing for me. I had no idea that what Judi means by a “small part” meets no normal definition of that word. I didn’t know you really can’t highlight your lines in your script without violating the terms of the lease agreement, something I found out a little too late. And I did not know that something that causes this much stress could also bring so much joy.

What an amazing thing this show has been for us as a cast and for us as a church! John Wesley, the founder of the people called Methodists, was not a great fan of the theater. In his days the theater was a place where the worst tendencies in human nature were on display. Plays were where people went to celebrate the worst of what we could be.

Now there were times over this period when we were not at our best, but with this cast and crew and with this play, we mostly saw the best of what we can be in God’s eyes. The talent, the creativity, the flexibility, and the message – it was a revelation and it became a ministry. I mean, who knew that Erin Hayes could become Chava? Or that we had such talented children and youth actors? Or that Lois Fawcett could put together a crew and a set like the one we have? Or that God would send the backstage crew we needed? And I had heard rumors, “There were some rumors in the village,” but to watch Mark McNair transform into Tevye was…well, actually it was scary, but remarkable anyway.

But there is one scene from the play that came to mind as I was preparing for the sermon this week. For me this play is all about change and the challenges it poses for the people of God. It is set in the small Russian village of Anatevka in the waning days of the rule of the czars. It is a time when there is a great deal of tension between the ethnic Russians and the Jews, who are at the center of this story. The Jewish villagers are deeply rooted in traditions that connect them to God and to their history. But they are also going through a time of change as new ideas creep in and as the young people in the town challenge the old traditions, particularly the tradition of marriages arranged by a matchmaker. In the midst of this, the Russian government begins to oppress the Jews in a series of violent riots or pogroms. Everything is turned upside down and it is unclear how the community will sustain itself and continue.

One of the most poignant scenes is when the eviction notice comes for the Jews of Anatevka. When they are given three days to leave the village, the people know that this will be a change that trumps all the other changes they have been going through. As the play has progressed, the challenges have moved closer and closer to Tevye. Finally, they uproot him and his friends.

It’s at this point that Jewish ironic humor takes over. Jo Ann Molera, otherwise known as Yente the Matchmaker, says, “Well, you know, Anatevka hasn’t exactly been the Garden of Eden.” Tevye says, “Somebody should have put a match to this place years ago.” And everybody sings, “What do we leave? Nothing much.” But then the powerful phrase that puts it all in perspective… “Only Anatevka.” Only Anatevka. Only everything we’ve ever known. Only the place that grounds everything and that we can’t imagine living without.

But they go on and you have the feeling by the final scene that this community will survive, though it may be scattered throughout the world. As they begin the long journey away from home they are still a people waiting on God, still a people bound together by family and faith, still a people who “know who they are and what God expects them to do.” It is a final scene lived under a cloud, but you sense that these people will find a new life in a new place. They will not be defeated. They will laugh and sing and perhaps even dance again. They have a power that cannot be destroyed by the worst that others can do to them. This, all too often, has been the story of the Jewish people.

What does Fiddler on the Roof have to tell us as Christians? Well, we could do a whole series on the themes and lessons of Fiddler, but it does cause me to ask about the source of our strength and what it means to be faithful to what God has given to us. Our scripture this morning gives us one of the first Christian sermons and it talks about this theme.

Peter and John are walking into the temple in Jerusalem soon after Jesus’ resurrection and soon after the Holy Spirit had descended on his disciples at Pentecost. They see a crippled man laying by the temple gate begging for money. They say to them man, “We don’t have silver or gold, but we can give you what we have.” And what is it that they have? They have the name, the power of Jesus. And when they tell the man that he can be freed by the power of Jesus, he jumps to his feet and begins to dance and praise God.

This, as you might imagine, attracts a crowd. You can hear them murmuring to one another: “They healed the beggar by the gate! Can you believe it? These guys must be prophets or miracleworkers!” But when the crowds gathered, Peter responds with a sermon. “Why are you amazed at this? What did you expect? It wasn’t us that did this. Do you think we ourselves have the power or piety to make a man walk? No, it was God, the God of our ancestors Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The God we knew in Jesus who is the Christ.

Then the sermon changes to a new tone. Peter begins to tell the story of Jesus’ death and to tell the people that they were responsible. They were ignorant of what they were doing but they had repudiated him before Pilate, and they had asked for a murderer to be released in his stead, and they had put to death the one who offers life. Of course, all of this was to fulfill God’s purposes in overcoming death, but they needed to see that they were still captive to the power of death in this world. They were still bound by their own failures and sins. They were still as crippled as the man by the gate had been and just as in need to be released so that they could sing and dance and praise the God who was still their God despite all the ways they and the world had gone wrong.

Now here’s the word we need to hear as 21st century Christians: This sermon is for us. Yes, it was meant for those people of Jerusalem living in the aftermath of the crime and struggling with what it meant, but it is no less an important message for us today. We did not join the crowds to shout, “Crucify him!” on Good Friday but we repudiate Jesus every time we forget to see him in a suffering brother or sister or go along with the forces that are working against the intentions of God. We didn’t ask for the murderer Barrabas to be released, but we unleash the forces of destruction every time we give our money and our attention to music, movies, video games and TV shows and to political agendas that glorify death and violence. We weren’t there to nail him to the cross, but we give our hopes over to death every time we do not share where our hope comes from with our children and youth and when we do not live as if the God we say we believe in truly is God.

You know, we are Americans. We’re supposed to be an optimistic, forward-looking people. But we have become a people who suspect there is no grand hope, no great power, no cure for what ails us. We are becoming resigned to a future in which we continue to send our children off to an endless far-off war, an economy that is dragging and leading to huge layoffs like we saw in Norfolk at the Ford factory, a political process that is mired in division and which seems not to be able to do anything but spend money and to do that poorly. There is a deep cynicism in the land and we don’t dare to get our hopes up that anything will ever change because we are just not sure we have the wisdom, the energy, the leadership, the courage, the power to do what needs to be done.

We are people who also know that there is something wrong, not only in the world around us, but deep within us as well. We carry guilt over things we have done. We know that we have not loved our neighbors, our friends, our family, our selves the way that we should. We know that our faith flickers and we aren’t the light God wants us to be. We know that we are enslaved to things that keep us from being who God wants us to be and those things have many names – gambling, pornography, alcohol, materialism, anger, selfishness, busy-ness. How can we be healed from these things?

And we are people of deep wounds. Others have wronged us and we don’t know how to forgive. Others have abused us or slighted us or disappointed us or crossed the path of our own will and we cannot let it go. How can we be healed?

Or perhaps the wound is physical or mental. We face chronic diseases or bouts with depression. We face surgery or mental decline. And in facing these disorders we despair that we can ever overcome them.

This is why this story is for us. Because we know what it’s like to suspect that there is no power in the world that can release us from these things. But as Christians we know that there is.
We know that there is because we can look to a point in history in which it all changed for us. The God who was made known to the people of Israel with an everlasting covenant came to us in Jesus. God came to live with us! And when you read the gospels you can’t help but be overwhelmed by where he spent his time. He lived among folks who believed they had no power! Jesus, in the gospels, is constantly moving around among people who come to him with blindness, illness, bleeding, demon possession, and even death. He speaks to wealthy people who are burdened by their wealth. He speaks to lawyers who are burdened by their rules. He speaks to religious leaders who are burdened by their position. What they all have in common is that they feel trapped and do not know how to get out.

Jesus meets them where they are and some of them he comforts with the words that their faith has made them well. Some of them he confronts with the news that the things they are holding onto they will have to give up in order to be healed. And some of them respond with joy, like the tax collector Zaccheus. And some of them respond with sorrow, like the rich young man who is told to give up all he owns. Jesus meets the people where they are and demands that they recognize something one things – that when God comes they can never be the same.

It even took the disciples awhile to get that message. Peter, who gives this sermon at the Temple, was last seen before the crucifixion denying that he had ever met this Jesus. But he finally got it. When he encountered the Risen Lord, he got it. And those who came to Christ in faith knew that they could never be the same…that the world could never be the same. This resurrection power was so great that it would enable them to walk forward in the face of any danger, knowing that death didn’t get the last word – not on a hill called Calvary, and not in the depths of our souls. The end of the story, for those who walk in faith in Jesus, is always life.

What the disciples faced in walking on was persecution. Like those Jewish villagers in Anatevka, the next part of the journey for them was not pretty. Some of those early Christians faced lions and beatings and imprisonment and exile. But what marked them was their hope and joy and confidence in Jesus Christ. And those who saw them were amazed. One of the earliest recorded statements about Christians was by someone who said, “Look how they love each other.” You have a sense that even facing what was ahead, these Christians were also going to find a new life in a new place. They will not be defeated. They will laugh and sing and perhaps even dance again. They have a power that cannot be destroyed by the worst that the world can bring them.

You have that power, too. I know you wonder sometimes if you do. I know the world seems overwhelming. I know you don’t know if you can trust others or even if you can trust yourself. I know that you wonder if the pains you are experiencing can ever be relieved or if the things you have done can ever be forgiven. But God does not see us as the worst we have been, God sees in us the potential for what we will be if we accept life in Jesus Christ. In the beginning God said, when looking at the newly-created man and woman, “It is good. It is very good.” Because of the redemption offered to us in Jesus, God can still say that about the creation God loves.

One night in my former church we had a communion service to conclude our Disciple Bible Study and it was held in the sanctuary in the midst of a thunderstorm. The power had gone out awhile before and we held the service by candlelight because we believed we had no electricity. It turned out that the power had come back on before we even started but we didn’t know it because we had no lights on. We had the power and we didn’t know it. You have the power. It has been given to us. God has come in Jesus to heal the sins and the wounds of this world. We only need to claim that power as our own. Thanks be to God.

Hearing My Name For the First Time

John 20:1-18
Then, on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene came early, while it was still dark, to the tomb and she saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple whom Jesus loved and said to them, "They have taken the Lord from the tomb and we do not know where they have laid him."
So Peter and the other disciple went out and went toward the tomb. Now the two of them were running together but the other disciple ran ahead of Peter quickly and arrived at the tomb first. He stooped over and saw the linen wrappings lying there but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came also, following him, and he entered the tomb and saw the linen wrappings lying there and the face cloth which was over his head not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up separately in another place.
So then the other disciples who had arrived at the tomb first came in also and he saw and believed, for they did not yet understand the scripture that it was necessary for him to rise from the dead. So the disciples returned to their own homes again.
But Mary stood outside in front of the tomb weeping. Now as she wept she stooped to look into the tomb and she saw two angels in white clothing, one at the head and one at the feet, where the body of Jesus had been lying. They said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping?"
She said to them, "Because they have taken my Lord and I don't know where they have laid him."
Having said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?"
Believing he was the gardener she said to him, "Sir, if you have taken him, tell me where you have hid laid him and I will take him away."
Jesus said to her, "Mary."
She turned to him and said in Hebrew, "Rabbouni," (which means 'Teacher').
Jesus said to her, "Don't grab hold of me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go to my brothers and say to them, 'I am ascending to my Father and your Father and my God and your God.'"
Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, "I have seen the Lord," and she related all the things he had told her.

You can’t underestimate the importance of names. That’s what I want to talk about today. You can’t underestimate the importance of names.

So the story is told of a pregnant woman who was involved in a very serious accident. She is in a coma for six months but during the time of her coma she delivers twins, one a girl and one a boy. When she awakens from the coma she is very grateful for their birth and for their safety but after enjoying them for a while she wonders, what do I call them?

A nurse says, “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, your brother came in and named them.”

The woman is distraught. She says, “Oh, no! Not my goofy brother. What did he name them?”

“Well,” says the nurse, “he named the girl Denise.”

“Oh, wow, that’s great,” says the woman. “A normal name. What did he name the boy?”

The nurse sighed and then said, “Denephew.”

Names. They can be so important. Especially when we hear our own names as if for the first time.

You know, what we are here for today is unbelievable. What the Church asks you to believe about this day is just so unbelievable that I'm surprised any of us came at all this morning. Sure it's a high, holy day - probably THE high, holy day of the Christian year. You can't be a Christian and not celebrate on Easter Sunday! But that doesn't make the thing we are supposed to believe on this day any more believable.

We might as well be hearing voices. That's what people would say about you if you tried to tell this Easter story to them with a straight face. "Empty tombs and a man raised from the dead? Encounters with angels and a risen Jesus? These Christians might be able to sell me on Christmas - I mean a baby with a special purpose, now that's not too farfetched. But this Easter story - a man who lets himself be crucified only to come back to life in three days? - now, that's a little much. I'll stick to the Easter bunny, thank you very much." That's what people would say.

But we're here, aren't we? Just the way that many of us have been for many Easters past. One more year with this unbelievable holiday. And one more time we hear that familiar story...
It's a story that begins before dawn. In the quiet darkness of a Sunday morning in Jerusalem, a lone woman makes her way to the tomb of the crucified man she had called, "Lord". But to the religious leaders and the Roman soldiers who had him done to death he was mocked as a king with no kingdom. When they pulled him down from the cross Joseph of Arimathea, a Jewish leader who had been a secret follower of Jesus had offered a new tomb hewn out of rock as a temporary resting place for the body - a place to leave it until the Sabbath was over. Little did he know how temporary it would be! Another secret follower, Nicodemus, who had come to Jesus in the night, provided the spices that were used for burial in those days.

By sundown on Friday it had all been done. The heavy stone that required several men to move was rolled in front of the entrance. Jesus' disciples had scattered. And the Sabbath, a time for remembering and respecting God's creation, had begun. The promise Jesus had given of a new creation seemed to have been buried in the silent tomb with his body.

The Sabbath ended at sundown on Saturday and the woman now making her way to the tomb had promised herself that she would go ... in the morning… to see the resting place once more. Perhaps she was going in hopes of getting one last glimpse. Perhaps she was just going to weep. But she could not wait for daylight. While it was still dark and quiet she went.

And in that dim, pre-dawn light she saw a sight that caused her to stop short. "The stone! It's been rolled away!" Without pausing to check she leaped to the next assumption - not that Jesus had been raised from the dead - who would think such a thing was possible? - No, she assumed that they had removed his body from the tomb. And of course she would assume this! No rich man like Joseph of Arimathea was going to let a corpse rot in his new tomb for very long. The wealthy and the powerful were not going to let a crucified criminal hold any place that looked honorable. Of course they moved him! And so, Mary assumed, even after his death Jesus' body had to endure one more indignity. So she fled.

She ran to Simon Peter and another disciple that Jesus had loved. Peter had not acted much like a brave leader in those final hours of Jesus' life. He had denied even knowing Jesus to save his own hide. But he was the one who had been Jesus' right-hand man all along. He had to know. So Mary went to him with the news, "They've taken the Lord and I don't know where they laid him."

Peter and the other disciple drew a sharp breath then they both raced for the door finding that it isn't wide enough for both of them to pass at once. "After you."

"No, after you." And they race to the tomb, the unnamed disciple reaching the tomb first. But he waits before going in. He leans over to peer into the tomb and sees the linen wrappings that covered Jesus' body lying empty. Why would grave robbers unwrap a body they wanted to move?

Peter rushes up behind him and they look at one another once again. "After you."

"No, Peter, after you." Peter goes inside and sees, not only the wrappings, but the face cloth as well, neatly rolled and placed in a separate spot. But there is no body. He feels the other disciple enter the tomb behind him.

"Let's get out of here. Something has happened. Something awesome. And it might happen to us." They believed Mary now, but their fear and their misunderstanding led them back to a safer place. They went home.

So once again there was a lone figure standing in the early morning light in the graveyard. Mary Magdalene once again. She weeps uncontrollably - overwhelmed by the grief of Friday and the incomprehension of Sunday. She stoops to look into the tomb as well and she sees something there that Peter and the other disciple didn't see. Through eyes bleary with tears she sees two figures in white sitting by the empty linen wrappings. What she didn't know is that they were angels.

"Woman," they say, "why are you crying?"

"Silly men! Why am I crying? Why am I crying? I've lost the one I called 'Lord'. That's why I'm crying. Not only have I lost him to death, I've lost his body now as well!"

And then she turned only to bump directly into another figure who has moved up behind her. He, too, asks the same silly question, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom do you seek?"

"It must be the gardener," she thinks. "Probably thinks I'm intruding here. This is a graveyard for the wealthy after all - no place for a poor woman like me. Oh, well. Better to be polite instead of angry. -- Sir, if your have taken him, tell me where you have laid him and I'll take him. -- I'll take him. Take him off your hands. You've done enough damage to him already!"

But then the figure speaks in a voice she recognizes. For the first time in this whole confusing morning there is something that rings crystal clear. It is her name being spoken. "Mary," the voice says. And suddenly she remembers who she is and recognizes who he is. The figure in the garden is Jesus.

And all that Mary can say is, "Teacher." Because for Mary the teaching of Jesus has not ended, it has only just begun. And she bears the news back to the disciples. She becomes the angel they can see and hear. She tells them about the truth of the resurrection.

Unbelievable. Unbelievable. The thing no one expected. The thing we can't comprehend. That's what happened to Jesus on the first Easter morning. Those disciples, including Mary, still clung to the old ways, still hung around the place where their teacher had been buried, but it wasn't until he spoke her name that one of them was able to experience Easter for the first time.

Almost two thousand years later I don't think we're any better about recognizing the real meaning of this day. Words like 'resurrection' and 'Christ is alive' roll easily off our tongues but they mask our discomfort with what we say we believe. There are lots of folks who try to sell you a different story to make it more comforting to our ears. Maybe the Da Vinci Code or the Gospel of Judas can take away some of the unbelievability. Scholars debate the historical reality of Jesus' rising from the dead. There are lots of folks who would explain the resurrection away as a powerful fictional event.

But something within us still responds to this day. As unbelievable as it is - we are here. Some of us have been here for many, many years. And we cling to Easter like we cling to the hope of spring and the promise of a young child because they are all miracles that defy explanation. So we listen to these fantastic stories about Peter and Mary, we look for the thrill of recognizing that God was involved in all of this, and maybe, just maybe, we'll hear in this Easter something very familiar - something crystal clear in the midst of all of this mystery - the sound of our name being spoken by someone who has cared for us for a long, long time - since before we were born.

This morning we have a really important thing to do. We are welcoming in a new confirmation class. For the last three months seven of our youth have been meeting with mentors and walking beside them as they explored the most essential questions of our faith. They’ve talked about baptism and ministry, service and gifts, the life of the Spirit, crucifixion and resurrection. It has been a really important time and we know something holy has happened through this.
But confirmation is not just learning ABOUT something. More than that it is learning about yourself. It is knowing that God has not only called the whole world but God has called you. It is knowing that you, Ashlee, Alex, Emma, Daniel, Joel, Hunter and Zach, you are the person Jesus came to save. When you can hear Jesus calling your name this becomes more than an exercise…it’s the basic stuff of life itself.

Mary was used to hearing her name called, I’m sure. She had heard it called in anger and heard it called in love. She had responded to it throughout her whole life. But in a real sense her name was just a placeholder until the time she could hear the Risen Jesus say it to her for the first time. Mary was no longer the same Mary when she left that garden tomb that morning. She was Mary, the one called by Christ.

You came here this morning perhaps thinking that you know who you are. You came here knowing that the same things you were worrying about when you went to bed last night are still going to be there when you wake up tomorrow, despite the fact that Easter has come. You came here knowing what brokenness and confusion and struggle and grief and pain are all about. You came knowing that you are in situations that seem beyond your capacity to deal with and, worse yet, beyond your control. But we come because we need to hear the one thing that can remind us of why the brokenness doesn’t win in the end. We come because we need to hear our names, spoken as if for the first time.

Easter morning isn't always an epiphany. It isn't always a revelation that we are being called by God. Sometimes it's just a comforting reminder that another spring has come. But it can be a time when we can suddenly set aside the fear and confusion we live with most of the days of our lives. It can be a time when we hear a voice that's meant only for us. And when that voice comes and calls your name, Easter has truly come.

The sounds of Easter are the ordinary sounds of the world - wind blowing through a graveyard, weeping, hushed voices sharing unexplained wonders in an empty tomb - but there is one sound that is not ordinary at all - the sound of your name being spoken by one who experienced death in order to save the world and who conquered it to call you to share in the victory. Easter comes when it is accompanied by your name, as Mary knows.

Thanks be to God who conquered death and offers life. Thanks be to God.

Easter Comes to the Neoniskos

Red Bank Landing Ecumenical Easter Sunrise Service

Mark 16:1-8
Now when the Sabbath was over, Mary the Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go and anoint him. Very early in the morning of the first day of the week they went to the tomb as the sun arose. And they said to one another, "Who will roll away the stone from the door of the tomb for us?" But when they looked up they saw the stone had already been rolled away, even though it was very large.
They entered the tomb and saw a young man sitting on the right side clothed in a long white robe and they were amazed. But he said to them, "Don't be awe-struck; you are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, the crucified one. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place where they laid him. But you go, tell his disciples and Peter that he goes before you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he said to you."
So they came out and fled from the tomb because confusion and trembling took hold of them. They said nothing to anyone because they were afraid.

We have been through Holy Week. We have walked towards the cross with Jesus. On Thursday we remembered his final meal with his disciples and the way they all deserted him. On Friday we recalled his suffering and death. Then there was the tomb, the silence, the waiting. And as we read through the passion story once more this week a mystery I have pondered before came to my mind. Just who was the young man who ran away without his clothes in the garden?

Do you remember that part of the story? If you blink you’ll miss it. There is a very cryptic verse in the garden scene as Jesus is arrested. It only appears in the gospel of Mark, which is the gospel we read this morning. As Jesus is being taken away, a young man, a neoniskos in Greek, is following him and those who are trying to arrest Jesus also try to capture him, and they grab him by the linen cloth that he is wearing. He manages to wrench himself free and he runs away naked…the first Christian streaker. Biblical scholars have wondered about this young man, too. Some folks say he was an anonymous hanger-on…one of the crowd of disciples who were following. Some say he was Mark himself, putting himself into the scene the way medieval artists would place themselves in biblical paintings. Some say he was Forrest Gump. But it’s safe to say that no one really knows who the young man is. He’s just there as Jesus is arrested. And like everyone else, he runs away when the going gets tough.

But then I read the resurrection story. It’s also very strange in Mark. Listen to it with me and see if you hear what I heard. The Sabbath was over. The women who had waited through that long day after Jesus' death headed toward the tomb to anoint his body. They had bought some spices and they set off early in the morning, just as the sun was rising.

Who knows what they expected to see or why they wanted to go? Maybe it was a final act of love, a desire to see Jesus once more, a hoping against all hope that it hadn't really happened. It seems they hadn't even thought about one of the basic necessities for their trip before they left, because as they approached the tomb they wondered among themselves, "Who is going to move the stone for us?"

So Mary, Mary, and Salome came to face the dead. But when they finally took their eyes from the ground and looked up at the place of the grave, they found that the stone had already been rolled away, even though it was very large.

They entered the tomb only to find that it was occupied by a young man, a neoniskos, in a long white robe. They took him for an angel and they were amazed at the sight. He noticed and he said to them, "Don't be so surprised. You came to this tomb looking for a dead man - Jesus who you followed from Galilee and who you saw crucified and put to death on Friday." The young man knew that they had not come expecting to find life. They came to the tomb because that's where the dead could be found and there was part of them that had died as well.

Then the young man gave them the words that explained the emptiness. "He has been raised, he is not here. You can look but you will not find him. Now, you go and spread the word. Tell the disciples and Peter to go to Galilee where you will see him again as he told you he would."

They were words too wonderful for them to hear. They came out of the tomb and fled, just like a group of pig herders had done when Jesus sent the demons of a possessed man into their pigs so that they ran headlong into the water and died. They went fleeing from this place in fear and trembling because something powerful had struck them. Confusion and terror gripped them as if they had no will of their own. And the first witnesses to the empty tomb said nothing to anyone because they were afraid.

I’ve always thought of the young man in the tomb as an angel, too. And if an angel is simply someone who is a messenger for God, then that’s definitely what he was. But neoniskos is only used twice in the whole gospel of Mark—to describe the young man in the garden and this man in another garden. It still doesn’t tell us who the young man is. He’s just there as Jesus was raised. And he tells a story that causes shock and awe in the first witnesses. But something about it sunk in. And they must have finally told. Because somehow we know.

It’s very hard for us to slow down enough to realize how powerful this story of Easter is. I know, I know. We’ve got lives – lives filled with all kinds of things that can distract us from what God wants to do with us. Sometimes we’re just like the neoniskos, a person on the fringes who happens to be there as the story of Jesus unfolds, not as prepared or dressed as we would like to be, wondering what it means for us. And sometimes we feel we don’t have anything more to offer than the young man when he runs off without his clothes. But there are moments, in silence, in awe, in the light of a sunrise peeking over the eastern horizon, when all things seem possible once again, and when I don’t seem outside the story of Jesus at all. At those moments I am in the empty tomb with the best news of all. Death does not have the last word. Death can never have the last word. He is risen as he said and he goes before us into the world, so that we can walk behind in confidence. Christ is risen! That’s what the young man finally says. Christ is risen! And because Christ lives, we can live, too. Thanks be to God.

The Way to the Cross

Mark 14:1-15:47
Part of the reason this story of Jesus’ suffering and death survives is because it has a little bit of everything in it. You want humility? There’s the unnamed woman at Jesus’ feet. You want betrayal? There’s Judas before the high priests and then Peter and then everyone else who had followed him into Jerusalem with the palm branches. You want willful ignorance? There are the disciples around the table, one after the other saying, “Surely, not me, Lord. Surely, not me.”
You want a poignant last moment? There’s the final supper with friends. You want prophecy? There’s Jesus telling them they will all fall away. You want humor? There’s Peter swearing on his life that he will never betray Jesus and only a few verses later doing exactly that three times to the sound of a rooster crowing.
You want agony? There’s Jesus praying in the garden. You want weakness? There’s the disciples’ watch group falling asleep on the job. You want ironic gestures? There’s a kiss that seals his death. You want violence? There’s a frustrated disciple with a sword. You want misplaced his anger? There’s the sword striking the ear of a slave.
You want a kangaroo court? There’s the council. You want a man caught between doing the right thing and his fear of the crowds? There’s Pilate. You want a mob easily swayed by infiltrators? There they are shouting ‘Crucify him!’ You want humiliation? There’s the purple robe and the spit and the crown made of thorns. You want cruelty? There’s the beatings, the mocking, the long march to the hill. You want death? There’s the cross.
This story has a little bit of everything and that’s what makes it so enduring. In part, that’s what makes it so enduring. But the real reason it survives is not just because it is a good story filled with the full range of human frailties on graphic display. It survives because it not only tells that story, but it also tells the story of what God can do with all those frailties, all those failures, all those betrayals, all that mess.
What God can do is to redeem it and to redeem us and to redeem the whole world. We are here today because we believe that in this story is our story. We know we live in a world made wrong by our faults and divisions. You didn’t need to come to church to hear that. What we need to hear today and each day of our lives is that God is taking those wrongs and, through the instrument of the cross, making them right. This week, this story, the whole course of human history leads to this moment on the cross. But what it looks like on the other side and what we look like on the other side of it, is something unimaginably fantastic. The story ends today with a body in a tomb, but stay tuned. This story’s not over. Thanks be to God.

The Magnetic Cross

John 12:20-33
Now there were some Greeks who were among those coming up to worship at the festival. So they came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee and asked him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”
Philip went and told Andrew and Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. Then Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Humanity to be glorified. Truly, truly I tell you, unless a grain of wheat, falling into the earth, dies, it remains only a grain, but if it dies it bears much fruit.
“Those loving their lives lose them, and those hating their lives in this world preserve their lives forever. If anyone would serve me, let them follow me and where I am there will be my servant also. Whoever serves me the Father will honor.
“Now my soul is disturbed and what should I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour?’ No, rather it is because of this that I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name.”
Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it and I will glorify it again.”
Now the crowd standing there heard it and understood it to be thunder; others said, “An angel has spoken to him.”
Jesus responded, “This voice has not come for my sake but for yours. Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all things to myself.” Now this he said to signify what sort of death he was to die.

It was the week of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem and the religious leaders were terrified. That may sound as if I’m referring to myself getting ready for Holy Week, but it’s not. I’m talking about the religious leaders of Jesus day – the folks who watched him ride into town to the shouts of “Hosanna!” and waving palm branches and felt as though their whole world was crumbling around them.
Just what was it that made them so afraid? Was it Jesus’ message? It wasn’t that unusual. There had been prophets and zealots before – people like John the Baptist who led people off into the wilderness and told them to get ready because the savior was coming. But they had been dealt with. Not easily, but they had been dealt with. Jesus could have been another one of those troublemakers, but, no, that wasn’t it. There was something else about Jesus.
It wasn’t his disciples. Some of these wild-eyed leaders had formed armies and threatened to topple the Roman Empire or at least its rule over Israel. They carried weapons or stones. But this Jesus had an army of fishermen and fools…women and tax collectors. Who were they in the face of the Empire? No, the disciples were no threat.
No, what frightened the leaders was Jesus’ refusal to submit to the power of death. This was a man who seemed to be drawing a following by promising life. Only a short time before he had been at the tomb of one of his friends, Lazarus. Four days dead Lazarus’ sister, Martha, had begged him to acknowledge the reality of death. “Four days he’s been in there, Lord,” she said to him. “Imagine the stench.” But Jesus was undeterred and he called his friend’s name – “Lazarus, Lazarus come out!” – and out he came still bound by the cloths meant to preserve him in his deceased condition. That’s what frightened the religious leaders who had spent their whole careers helping people accept the power of death over life. Jesus was turning the tables, as he did in the Temple, and declaring that life trumps death. There would be no stopping him now.
So there they were as the crowds gathered to welcome Jesus into the city. They heard what they said. “Jesus is coming! He’s the one who raised Lazarus from the dead! Can it be? What’s next? How can he top that?” And it was because of these stories and this expectation that the religious leaders had made plans of their own. They were determined to kill Jesus, this death-defying rebel. And for good measure they were going to kill Lazarus as well. Who says you can’t keep a good man down? If his first death didn’t take perhaps the second would!
But as they watched the procession their determination faltered. They began to waver a bit in their conviction. If so many people were attracted to this man perhaps there was no point in their plan. “Look,” they said to one another, “you can’t do anything with this guy. The whole world is going after him.” Little did they know! Like a coursing stream seeking its mouth, the world was following Jesus, even though they had no idea what was being asked of them.
As if to prove the point, a group of Greeks approached Jesus’ disciples. Greeks! What were Greeks doing in Jerusalem? Sure, it was the Passover and there were Jews from all parts of the known world there, but Greeks? Perhaps a few Greeks were intrigued enough by Judaism to become proselytes – observers – but not many. And the other Greeks? They had their own gods, their own philosophies. They were far too cosmopolitan to follow after a Jewish prophet like Jesus. But there they were like New York socialites at a NASCAR race asking where they could find this Jesus guy.
Philip and Andrew, the two disciples with the Greek names, were the ones who carried the word to Jesus and when he hears it Jesus knows that something is changing. When the Greeks show up, you know the story’s going to turn. It’s not just a simple little Jewish drama being played out in a neglected little corner of the world any more. It’s not a human interest story to fill out the news if you’ve got a little extra time. This Jesus story is something that is commanding attention beyond the home crowd. Like George Mason going to the Final Four, he can’t be ignored anymore.
So Jesus starts to speak openly about what is going to happen. “The hour has come. Unless a seed falls into the ground and dies it just remains a seed. But if it dies it will bear much fruit.” There is a chill in the room now. This is a test for all of those who saw Jesus defeat death once before. It’s one thing to raise Lazarus. It’s another thing to face it yourself. What is Jesus talking about?
“Now is the judgment of this world. Now the ruler of this world will be driven out.” Satan can’t stand. Evil has had its day. God is not going to allow its reign to continue and it certainly cannot have any power any more. But how does this happen? “When I am lifted up,” Jesus says. When he is lifted up? He’s talking about his ascension right? But, no, it’s something more than that. When he is lifted up? When he is lifted up on the cross. Does it end there? Is that it? Do those who want to reassert the power of death get their way? Is Lazarus’ resuscitation crossed out by Jesus’ crucifixion? Is that how it stops? All those people who have followed him. “The whole world is following after him,” the Pharisees said. Is that when they turn back?
No. “No,” Jesus says, “When I am lifted up, I will draw all people to myself.” That cross is magnetic you see. It’s irresistible. It has “a wondrous attraction for me” and for you. I know what I said I few weeks ago. I know what I said. I said the cross was an embarrassment. It’s a reminder of weakness and shame and death and powerlessness. But I’m telling you it is calling out to you and to me. The cross may not be the thing you pull out to impress the neighbors, but it may be just what the neighbors need to find salvation. The cross will not be ignored. It may be misunderstood and misused. It may be lost in the midst of the feel-good religion we sometimes preach. But it can’t ultimately be ignored because all of eternity is turning on what happened on that cross. And what happened on that cross, Jesus says, is that all people are being drawn to him.
Friday I did something I shouldn’t have done. It was a beautiful day and the sun was shining and it was warm and spring was in the air and I was on the Eastern Shore of Virginia, God’s favorite place on earth. It was a bit too windy and the water is still a bit cold and I hadn’t checked the tide charts and I didn’t really know where I was going and I still hadn’t learned from my capsizing in Nassawadox Creek last November, but I went kayaking. Hede was kind enough to let me borrow her kayak and I went up to Gargatha Landing to explore the marshes.
It was amazing. Five minutes in I saw two oystercatchers poking in the marsh flats. They didn’t seem disturbed by me at all and, in fact, this pair guided me along throughout the morning. I paddled out past duck blinds and was surprised by a great blue heron that flew up from the grass not five yards from me.
Eventually I got into a cut that wound through the marsh. I saw hundreds of fiddler crabs who would flash their yellow claws and then scurry away into their burrows. It’s mating season for them. In the water below me I saw clams and mollusks and other shell-y things that I can’t yet identify. Periwinkle snails moved up and down the salt grass. Two Canada geese scared the life out of me by flying right over my head.
When I finally made my way to the other side of the marsh I was amazed to hear the sound of waves breaking. I was only 20 yards from Metompkin Island and the temptation being what it was, I let the strong current move me down to the end of the island where I could see the breakers rolling in.
This is when I realized that I was in trouble. One thing I am beginning to learn about tides is that they can be very strong. And what I hadn’t realized is that that current that moved me easily to the inlet was the result of water rushing away from the shore. Now that I wanted to go back to the shore I was going to have to fight it. My first attempt was not successful. I tried to find the calmer water along the western side of the channel but when I got to the point where Big Gut entered into the channel, it turned me right around. I was beginning to think I would have to go on up to Wallops and get a ride back with Mickey.
But I gave it another go, this time cutting across to the back side of Metompkin Island. For 30 minutes I struggled to go the little bit of distance that would take me back to the cut I had come through. I was exhausted when I finally got into the sheltered area where I had come through earlier. I thought I could relax. That’s when I realized that the water was still rushing toward the sea and this cut was much shallower than it had been an hour before. The bottom of the kayak was scraping against the mud. At one point I thought I would have to get out and pull the kayak along, but my leg quickly went knee deep in the muck and I realized that wasn’t going to work either. I was beginning to think I was going to have to wait until the next high tide when I got into a deeper channel and was able to get back to shore.
The point of all this being: 1) I am going to get some kayak lessons, 2) Don’t try this at home, and 3) when the water is moving toward the sea it is very difficult to fight and you do so at your own peril. The religious leaders who watched Jesus enter into Jerusalem were the smartest people in the crowd. They had correctly identified what was going on even if many of the people around them, including Jesus’ disciples, couldn’t. They knew what this flow of people following Jesus meant – the tide was going with Jesus. They could see that what Jesus represented was a threat to their status quo. If someone could end the stranglehold death had on the world, it was inevitable that everyone would be drawn to him.
Now what does that mean for us? We are people who live in a society that still believes that death has the last word. We may say that we are a Christian nation but we are not Christian enough to live as if we believe that death has lost its hold on us. We still accumulate stuff and insulate ourselves from others and lament the loss of youth as if things could ultimately satisfy us, as if security could ultimately save us, and as if age were a threat instead of a blessing. We invest a lot of our time and our wealth in protecting ourselves from the possibility of really living.
But if this itinerant preacher from Nazareth is who he says he is and if this life he offers is what he says it is then the lives we live ought to be different. If the cross is the inescapable reality on which all our self-delusions die, then it is confronting us with a different sort of life. The part of us that knows death has lost its power…the part of us that is fitted for heaven to live with God there…the part of us that knows we are not really powerless but filled with potential…the part of us that suspects that the best the world has to offer is far less than the best God has to offer…the part that is ready to offer up your sins because you know they are keeping you from something marvelous…the part that wants to be holy despite how ridiculous that sounds given our current condition…the part that is in touch with the mighty current flowing through your soul, carrying you into the ocean depths of God’s love…that part is not going to be content with anything less than the cross of Jesus. To go against that tide is to put yourself in peril.
And I’m telling you this not only for your own sake but for the sake of those around you. I believe…I truly believe that there is within each one of us an inexorable flow that leads us to the Christ we know on the cross. Your neighbor, your family members, your children, your parents…all of them are being called to life and drawn to the Jesus who was lifted up. It’s not a desire we have to implant in others so that they will respond. They have the desire. We just have to welcome them to the table. To show them where the real food is so that they won’t be addicted to the junk that this society feeds them. We just have to be the people God calls us to be and keep the doors open.
You know somebody who needs to hear this. You know somebody who is hurting and lost and unsure about where to turn. You know somebody who needs the food on offer on this table today. Bring them with you this morning. Bring them here in your heart. And then, as we move to Holy Week next week, invite them to come themselves. We are going to be rehearsing the most important story we have as we move from Palm Sunday to Holy Thursday to Good Friday to Easter morning. Somebody you know needs to hear it because they are being drawn by that magnetic cross. Bring them.
As the waters rush to the sea, so our souls run to their author. Jesus is calling us. Jesus is welcoming us. Jesus brings us home. Thanks be to God.