Making the Easter Connection

Sermon preached by the Rev. Lowell E. Grisham, Rector

St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Fayetteville, Arkansas

April 23, 2011; Easter Sunday, Year A

Episcopal Revised Common Lectionary

(Matthew 28:1-10) B After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, `He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.' This is my message for you." So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them and said, "Greetings!" And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, "Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me."

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I have happy childhood memories of Easter Sundays.  We usually went to our grandparents’ house in Iuka, Mississippi, and I loved to go with Granddad to the Easter morning service at Iuka Methodist Church.  We always sang “Up from the grave he arose, he arose…”  I liked that hymn.  We didn’t have that in our Episcopal Hymnal.  I wished I had a deep bass voice so I could help out the men on that low echo – he arose.  But I got my Granddad’s tenor.

The preachers in Iuka were usually happy, joyful men, glad to proclaim the good news of Christ’s resurrection.  Those were the days when the Methodist Church would assign a different pastor to Iuka every three or four years.

One year the new pastor looked out on the packed church and fresh faces, and he must have decided to do some soul saving.  He preached one of those sermons that makes it sound like God the Father was determined to send everybody to hell, but needed an innocent human like Jesus to take our place for punishment, to suffer and die for us, and then rise again so we can have everlasting life.  If we didn’t believe in Jesus, God was determined to send us to hell forever; if we just believed in Jesus we would live blissfully with him in heaven forever.  He made it sound like God the Son came to earth to save us from God the Father.

Granddad didn’t much like that sermon.  I don’t know if he said anything, but somebody must have, and the next year’s Easter sermon was a happier, gladder sort.  And we sang, “Up from the grave he arose…” with great gusto.

I’m with Granddad.  I’ve never liked the theology that makes God sound genocidal.  Why would anyone worship an unjust God?  How anemic it seems to reduces Christianity to a transaction, little more than punching your admission ticket to the afterlife.

Personally, I’ve never had much curiosity about the afterlife.  I’ve got enough on my hands trying to handle this life.  Life after death not what motivates my religious faith.  I trust God for the afterlife.  Whatever God wants is fine with me.  My experience of God in this life is so full of divine love, so full of wonder, that I’m okay with whatever God wants.  God is so creative, after all.  Everything may be better than I could ever imagine.  Or even if death is simply a return into the “All,” and if some separate personality of someone named Lowell were to be absorbed into the “Ultimate,” I’ve been close enough to that experience in contemplative prayer that it seems simply exquisite, wonderful, transcendent peace.

I’ve never thought that Christianity was about the afterlife.  Christianity is about this life.  Jesus said, “I came that they might have life, and have it abundantly.”  I practice Christianity in order to live more fully here and now.

From time to time I visit with people who come to this church looking to escape what they have experienced as a toxic form of Christianity.  For some, the only god they have known was an angry judge, a moralistic perfectionist, a source of fear.  They have heard that “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of an angry God.”  And because the preacher said it was from the Bible, it must be true.  Literally true. 

I meet people who have been scarred by fear and guilt, often from a young age, when they were so vulnerable.  For some, the only good news they have heard is that if they believe the right thing, they can escape this cursed world through death and finally live in happiness with Jesus in heaven.  Still they fear.  Do I really believe?  Do I really believe enough?  What if I have doubts? 

Sometimes people find their way to St. Paul’s because they hear that we preach a different message.  A Gospel.  That word means “Good News.” 

About 30 miles from Iuka, Mississippi is the town of Tuscumbia, Alabama.  I remember going there to visit Ivy Green, the home of Tuscumbia’s most famous citizen, Helen Keller.  I remember going to her home and visiting the famous water well where she had her experience of enlightenment. 

When she was 19 months old, Helen Keller contracted an illness which left her deaf and blind.  When she was seven, her parents hired a teacher to help tame the tempestuous child.  Anne Sullivan arrived with the gift of doll, and spelled the word d-o-l-l in Helen’s hand as she gave it to her.  But the unintelligible hand motions just frustrated and angered Helen.  One day as Anne was giving her a drinking cup and spelling m-u-g in Helen’s hand, Helen threw down the doll in anger, breaking it into pieces.

Maybe you remember the scene from the movie The Miracle Worker when insight dawned for Helen.  Annie is wrestling with Helen at the water pump, spelling the word into Helen’s hand, w-a-t-e-r;  w-a-t-e-r.  Suddenly Helen grasps Annie hand.  She makes the connection.  She spells back into Annie’s hand, w-a-t-e-r.  The cold, flowing liquid has a name – it is “water.”  She can communicate.  With raptured joy Helen then stumbles from thing to thing, learning each name, making the connection between the finger letters and the thing it represents.  That connection opened the world to Helen Keller.

The resurrection of Jesus is the moment of enlightenment for Christians.  When the first disciples realized that death had not put an end to Jesus, they made the connection. 

They knew Jesus to be a man of compassion and healing, who reached out to the broken and marginalized, who loved those called unclean and sinners, and brought them wholeness and acceptance. 

They knew Jesus to be a man of hospitality and union, who invited all to his table where everyone was welcomed and fed. 

They knew Jesus to be a man of justice, who overturned the tables of those who would victimize the poor or block free and instant access to forgiveness.

They knew Jesus announced a new Kingdom of God where debtors would be forgiven, where the meek and the grieving would be blessed.

They knew Jesus to be a man of love.  He was living and breathing love.  He summarized the old law as the law of love – love God, neighbor, and self; and he called into being a new community with the new commandment to “love one another.”

Suddenly with the resurrection, they knew.  They understood.  This is what God is like.  God is like Jesus. 

God is love.  Unqualified love.  Self-emptying love.  Love breathing us into being with compassion and healing, especially for those who are hurt or afraid, who feel guilty or marginalized, who feel unclean or sinful.  God gives to everyone the same kind of love that Jesus gave – a love that creates a sense of wholeness and acceptance, bringing peace.

Making the connection to this living stream of eternal love is like Helen Keller’s realization that letters in her hand connect her to the living water of communication overcoming her darkness and isolation.

Today we proclaim the glory of resurrection life.  On Easter we proclaim that the most powerful force in the universe is God – overcoming fear and guilt and death with infinite grace, acceptance and love.  Right here; right now.  Jesus came that we might have life, and have it abundantly.  Right here; right now. 

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