Looking for the Living
April 08, 2007
Easter Sunday
Texts: Isaiah 65:17-25; Luke 24:1-12
We all have our expectations of how things should work – it should snow at Christmas, early spring should have some flowers, faithfulness should be rewarded – by corporations and spouses at least, government should work for the people, children should outlive their parents, and the dead should stay dead.
The resurrection of Jesus has been a problem for folks from the beginning – as we read the accounts in all four Gospels, that is one of the consistent elements, for there are some differences among the gospel accounts. The similarities are: it was on the first day of the week, and one or more women went and found the tomb empty. Luke’s account seems to emphasize how amazing this is: we are told that the disciples thought that “these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.” It was only later, when they themselves experienced the living Jesus in their midst, that they would find it credible.
But our story doesn’t go that far today – we are left with a passage that seems to emphasize that this is not what is expected (despite Jesus apparently predicting it). In addition to the disbelief of the apostles, and the fear of the women, the passage uses the simple conjunction “but” to reiterate again and again that this whole experience is not going as one might expect. The word “but” usually suggests that what follows is not consistent with what came before: I was going to study, but I went out instead; we were going on a picnic, but it rained; they were going to come over, but went to a movie. The word “but” creates a break, a sense of discontinuity and (perhaps) surprise.
In this morning’s reading, the word occurs six times in 12 verses – But on the first day of the week… they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body…The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. ….” Then they remembered his words, and …told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; … then he went home, amazed at what had happened….
Again and again, Luke reminds us that this story is not proceeding as expected…and ends, by calling it all amazing. It is indeed.
And it is particularly amazing when we really understand what has happened as resurrection – for we tend to think about what happened on that first Easter morning as something else. We miss the point if we see the resurrection as being some kind of resuscitation – gosh, he was dead, and now he’s alive. Way to go, Jesus. It’s much more than that – Jesus is resurrected. The crucifixion wasn’t undone. God didn’t go backwards, he leapt forwards. And the Church doesn’t say, Jesus was risen, we say Jesus IS risen. He IS alive.
And we doubly miss the point if we see the resurrection as immortality, although this is what many modern Christians seem to believe – that after death we’ll just continue on as we have been, some other place, but interacting with all our old friends as we did before. Immortality suggests that death isn’t real, resurrection says it’s not final.
In both resuscitation and immortality the assumption is that who we are after death is the same as who we are in this life. And yet, the resurrection accounts make it very clear that Jesus was different enough that the people closest to him failed to recognize him. Clearly, resurrection is not merely being restored to who he was – it is a new life, a transformed life, in which there is some continuity (Jesus is still Jesus), but also some significant discontinuity. Remember, Luke tells the story with “but” instead of “and”. Jesus is alive, but Jesus is different – he is transformed.
It is fitting somehow that the lectionary chooses this reading from Isaiah for Easter: I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating; for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight. I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and delight in my people; no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it, or the cry of distress. And the prophecy goes on to detail the kinds of health and wholeness that will characterize life: long lives, no infant mortality, people owning their own homes, creating sustainable lifestyles where each household can grow enough for its own use, satisfying work, people in close relationships with God, and even animal species no longer living in enmity. Economic, agricultural, social, spiritual and natural harmony will be the way of life in this new creation – clearly a significantly transformed world. As we look at the Isaiah passage, it becomes clearer how resurrection might be different from resuscitation and immortality – the old does not merely continue, God has made it new.
And, while there is much that we may not understand about resurrection, what we can see is that the worst circumstances can be redeemed and transformed – the powers of the Roman Empire killed Jesus, the power of God raised Jesus. And so we can see that God’s power can and does transcend the power of this world – but we can also see that God does not restore what was; we are always pulled forward into a surprising future with God. And perhaps this is one of the ways we can understand this particular resurrection account in our own lives.
“Why do you look for the living among the dead?” asks the angel. How often do we find ourselves wanting to fix or fill our lives, but too frequently without the willingness to engage the possibility of real change…and so nothing new can happen. To what degree are we looking for something better in our own lives while living out the same habits and traditions day after day, week after week, year after year? And when life goes other than we expect, as it does sooner or later to most of us, we are desperate to get our former lives back – but we can experience some of God’s transforming power when we begin to be open to the possibility that out of our suffering, our pain, our poverty, our openness, God can indeed bring something new.
Being open to the possibilities is the fundamental stance of faith: trusting that God desires good for us, and that the power of love can transform us.
The recent history of South Africa shows the possibilities for transformation that occur when people can engage the possibilities within a desperate situation. The National Party began to introduce some changes, but still did not grant blacks the right to vote. In 1989, when President de Klerk was reelected, he realized that apartheid was not going to survive and so rather than desperately trying to avoid change, he looked for the possibilities within the situation. Eventually, peacefully, voting rights were granted to all citizens, apartheid was ended, and South Africa created the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, a model of restorative justice that permitted transformed relationships to emerge. But it was only able to happen as people began to engage the possibility of reconciliation, and a new way of being together.
A more individual example: 11 years ago, Tyler and I went to visit a friend of mine who had kittens living in her store basement. While we chose two little kittens, my friend told me that she had been diagnosed the day before with breast cancer. “I’m not afraid,” she told us, “And I’m not in denial – I know what can happen; but I just know that God is going to bring wonderful things into my life through this that I would not otherwise experience.” I was so impressed with her trust. And, seven years later I was visiting her two days before she died, and I reminded her of that conversation, and asked her, “Did that happen, Laura? Did you experience wonderful things through this cancer that you would not have otherwise experienced?” She thought for a few moments and then said, “Yes, I did.” Laura didn’t want to die – but she was open to the possibility that God could transform her through her cancer in ways that would make her life fuller, and because of her openness to possibilities, she experience the kind of abundant living for which so many people yearn. If God can transform dying, surely he can transform death as well. But it’s not immortality, and it’s not resuscitation – resurrection is the promise of something new that can emerge when we are able to let go of what has been and accept that life will not be as it was ever again.
Both the current environmental crises of global climate change, and the current problems within several denominations have created fear and hope for many people – it seems that change is on the horizon, and what will be is not yet in sight. But it also seems clear that we will not go back to a life we have known before – and it is only as we face that, and trust that God can indeed lead us into a new way of being church together, and a new way of living on the earth – real transformation will happen.
In the Easter account, we see the power of resurrection. Something happened in the resurrection of Jesus, and everything is different – the book of Acts tells us that the resurrection of Jesus not only involves his transformation, but also leads to the transformation of the disciples. During the life and ministry of Jesus, they were often confused, afraid, or entangled in debates; after they experience the risen Christ, they have confidence, unity, understanding, and a sense of mission.
But, in the moment, theologian William Placher reminds us, resurrection was “…frightening, strange and ambiguous.” We can see that especially clearly in this account from Luke, that lurches from one discontinuity to another (but…but…but…) and ends with Peter amazed, but no one very clear about what has happened. We can’t always understand resurrection, even as we are experiencing it. Writer Diana Butler Bass has written of resurrection: “The resurrection is not an intellectual puzzle. Rather, it is a living theological reality, a distant event with continuing spiritual, human, and social consequences. The evidence for the resurrection is all around us. Not in some ancient text, Jesus bones, or a DNA sample. Rather, the historical evidence for the resurrection is Jesus living in us; it is the transformative power of the Holy Spirit, bringing back to life that which was dead. We are the evidence.” As we repeat the affirmation, He is risen, He is risen indeed, we affirm the possibilities, and we open ourselves to whatever surprises God will bring. He is risen! He is risen indeed! Amen.
Texts: Isaiah 65:17-25; Luke 24:1-12
We all have our expectations of how things should work – it should snow at Christmas, early spring should have some flowers, faithfulness should be rewarded – by corporations and spouses at least, government should work for the people, children should outlive their parents, and the dead should stay dead.
The resurrection of Jesus has been a problem for folks from the beginning – as we read the accounts in all four Gospels, that is one of the consistent elements, for there are some differences among the gospel accounts. The similarities are: it was on the first day of the week, and one or more women went and found the tomb empty. Luke’s account seems to emphasize how amazing this is: we are told that the disciples thought that “these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.” It was only later, when they themselves experienced the living Jesus in their midst, that they would find it credible.
But our story doesn’t go that far today – we are left with a passage that seems to emphasize that this is not what is expected (despite Jesus apparently predicting it). In addition to the disbelief of the apostles, and the fear of the women, the passage uses the simple conjunction “but” to reiterate again and again that this whole experience is not going as one might expect. The word “but” usually suggests that what follows is not consistent with what came before: I was going to study, but I went out instead; we were going on a picnic, but it rained; they were going to come over, but went to a movie. The word “but” creates a break, a sense of discontinuity and (perhaps) surprise.
In this morning’s reading, the word occurs six times in 12 verses – But on the first day of the week… they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body…The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. ….” Then they remembered his words, and …told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; … then he went home, amazed at what had happened….
Again and again, Luke reminds us that this story is not proceeding as expected…and ends, by calling it all amazing. It is indeed.
And it is particularly amazing when we really understand what has happened as resurrection – for we tend to think about what happened on that first Easter morning as something else. We miss the point if we see the resurrection as being some kind of resuscitation – gosh, he was dead, and now he’s alive. Way to go, Jesus. It’s much more than that – Jesus is resurrected. The crucifixion wasn’t undone. God didn’t go backwards, he leapt forwards. And the Church doesn’t say, Jesus was risen, we say Jesus IS risen. He IS alive.
And we doubly miss the point if we see the resurrection as immortality, although this is what many modern Christians seem to believe – that after death we’ll just continue on as we have been, some other place, but interacting with all our old friends as we did before. Immortality suggests that death isn’t real, resurrection says it’s not final.
In both resuscitation and immortality the assumption is that who we are after death is the same as who we are in this life. And yet, the resurrection accounts make it very clear that Jesus was different enough that the people closest to him failed to recognize him. Clearly, resurrection is not merely being restored to who he was – it is a new life, a transformed life, in which there is some continuity (Jesus is still Jesus), but also some significant discontinuity. Remember, Luke tells the story with “but” instead of “and”. Jesus is alive, but Jesus is different – he is transformed.
It is fitting somehow that the lectionary chooses this reading from Isaiah for Easter: I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating; for I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight. I will rejoice in Jerusalem, and delight in my people; no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it, or the cry of distress. And the prophecy goes on to detail the kinds of health and wholeness that will characterize life: long lives, no infant mortality, people owning their own homes, creating sustainable lifestyles where each household can grow enough for its own use, satisfying work, people in close relationships with God, and even animal species no longer living in enmity. Economic, agricultural, social, spiritual and natural harmony will be the way of life in this new creation – clearly a significantly transformed world. As we look at the Isaiah passage, it becomes clearer how resurrection might be different from resuscitation and immortality – the old does not merely continue, God has made it new.
And, while there is much that we may not understand about resurrection, what we can see is that the worst circumstances can be redeemed and transformed – the powers of the Roman Empire killed Jesus, the power of God raised Jesus. And so we can see that God’s power can and does transcend the power of this world – but we can also see that God does not restore what was; we are always pulled forward into a surprising future with God. And perhaps this is one of the ways we can understand this particular resurrection account in our own lives.
“Why do you look for the living among the dead?” asks the angel. How often do we find ourselves wanting to fix or fill our lives, but too frequently without the willingness to engage the possibility of real change…and so nothing new can happen. To what degree are we looking for something better in our own lives while living out the same habits and traditions day after day, week after week, year after year? And when life goes other than we expect, as it does sooner or later to most of us, we are desperate to get our former lives back – but we can experience some of God’s transforming power when we begin to be open to the possibility that out of our suffering, our pain, our poverty, our openness, God can indeed bring something new.
Being open to the possibilities is the fundamental stance of faith: trusting that God desires good for us, and that the power of love can transform us.
The recent history of South Africa shows the possibilities for transformation that occur when people can engage the possibilities within a desperate situation. The National Party began to introduce some changes, but still did not grant blacks the right to vote. In 1989, when President de Klerk was reelected, he realized that apartheid was not going to survive and so rather than desperately trying to avoid change, he looked for the possibilities within the situation. Eventually, peacefully, voting rights were granted to all citizens, apartheid was ended, and South Africa created the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, a model of restorative justice that permitted transformed relationships to emerge. But it was only able to happen as people began to engage the possibility of reconciliation, and a new way of being together.
A more individual example: 11 years ago, Tyler and I went to visit a friend of mine who had kittens living in her store basement. While we chose two little kittens, my friend told me that she had been diagnosed the day before with breast cancer. “I’m not afraid,” she told us, “And I’m not in denial – I know what can happen; but I just know that God is going to bring wonderful things into my life through this that I would not otherwise experience.” I was so impressed with her trust. And, seven years later I was visiting her two days before she died, and I reminded her of that conversation, and asked her, “Did that happen, Laura? Did you experience wonderful things through this cancer that you would not have otherwise experienced?” She thought for a few moments and then said, “Yes, I did.” Laura didn’t want to die – but she was open to the possibility that God could transform her through her cancer in ways that would make her life fuller, and because of her openness to possibilities, she experience the kind of abundant living for which so many people yearn. If God can transform dying, surely he can transform death as well. But it’s not immortality, and it’s not resuscitation – resurrection is the promise of something new that can emerge when we are able to let go of what has been and accept that life will not be as it was ever again.
Both the current environmental crises of global climate change, and the current problems within several denominations have created fear and hope for many people – it seems that change is on the horizon, and what will be is not yet in sight. But it also seems clear that we will not go back to a life we have known before – and it is only as we face that, and trust that God can indeed lead us into a new way of being church together, and a new way of living on the earth – real transformation will happen.
In the Easter account, we see the power of resurrection. Something happened in the resurrection of Jesus, and everything is different – the book of Acts tells us that the resurrection of Jesus not only involves his transformation, but also leads to the transformation of the disciples. During the life and ministry of Jesus, they were often confused, afraid, or entangled in debates; after they experience the risen Christ, they have confidence, unity, understanding, and a sense of mission.
But, in the moment, theologian William Placher reminds us, resurrection was “…frightening, strange and ambiguous.” We can see that especially clearly in this account from Luke, that lurches from one discontinuity to another (but…but…but…) and ends with Peter amazed, but no one very clear about what has happened. We can’t always understand resurrection, even as we are experiencing it. Writer Diana Butler Bass has written of resurrection: “The resurrection is not an intellectual puzzle. Rather, it is a living theological reality, a distant event with continuing spiritual, human, and social consequences. The evidence for the resurrection is all around us. Not in some ancient text, Jesus bones, or a DNA sample. Rather, the historical evidence for the resurrection is Jesus living in us; it is the transformative power of the Holy Spirit, bringing back to life that which was dead. We are the evidence.” As we repeat the affirmation, He is risen, He is risen indeed, we affirm the possibilities, and we open ourselves to whatever surprises God will bring. He is risen! He is risen indeed! Amen.