Remember

Remember

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

St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Fayetteville, Arkansas

March 27, 2016; EASTER SUNDAY, Year C

Episcopal Revised Common Lectionary

(Luke 24:1-12) On the first day of the week, at early dawn, the women who had come with Jesus from Galilee 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. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. 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. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again." Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who 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; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.

______________________________

The women were just doing their duty. There was no time on Friday to embalm the body. But that nasty job was their responsibility. It was also sad work for them, for they loved the dead man. It was costly work as well, for it would leave them ritually unclean and separated from their community for the next seven days. But, before they can get to their duties, they are interrupted. "Two men in dazzling clothes" appear and frighten the women. The men then comfort them with these words: "Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember…" they are told.

Remember. What are they to remember? Jesus had told them that he must be handed over; he must be crucified; he will rise again. It is a pattern that will be reinforced later that day and over and over again.

We see that same pattern in the next story in Luke's gospel. It's later on that same Easter day. Two disciples were walking to the nearby village of Emmaus, and a stranger joined them on the road. They were talking about these things, the crucifixion and the rumors of resurrection. The stranger then reinterpreted insights from the scripture that they had missed.

As they got to their destination, in the manner that is customary in the Middle East, they invited the stranger to come in and stay with them. He did. And when they were at the evening meal, the stranger did something to help them remember. He took the bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them. They remembered. That happened just last Thursday night, the night Jesus was betrayed and arrested and so brutally treated. That was the night they had their last supper with him. Jesus took the bread, blessed it, broke it, gave it to them and said, "This is my body which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me." Now on Sunday evening, remembering that last supper as they watched the stranger break the bread, their eyes were opened and they knew: the stranger was Jesus. Resurrection was among them. Life begins anew.

Apostles and disciples of Jesus have been remembering in just that same way ever since for nearly two thousand years. In a few moments we will take the bread, bless, break, and give it, and you will receive new life, the bread of life and the cup of salvation. You will remember, and you will be filled with resurrection life.

There is a pattern to Jesus' life that is repeated in the Eucharist. The dazzling men at the tomb told the women apostles of it. "Remember how he told you…, that [Jesus] must be handed over…, and be crucified, and …rise again." Handed over, crucified, rise again. It's the same pattern as take, bless, break, and give.

This pattern is present in every moment of life. In every moment we face a choice. Do I take it and bless it, or do I fight it and try to control it? Do I give myself over in confident, peaceful trust to whatever happens, or do I anxiously grab it and wrestle it. Like Jesus, we are all handed over. Stuff happens, and we have to deal with it. Your friend is crucified; you women have to tend to the body. The alarm clock goes off; you've got to start your day. Let yourself be handed over to it; take it and bless it. Right now is the only time we can be alive. Right now is the only time we can be one with God, living in resurrection life.

Every moment presents its duty or its opportunity, its joy or its sadness. Embrace it all, like Jesus. Jesus embraced life, its joy and its pain, all the way to the cross. From his birth he let himself be handed over into full human life, and he remained entirely himself, centered and grounded in God. He let himself be handed over to crucifixion. And he rose again. Bringing life out of death is what God does best.

In some sense, each moment is a small death, a little crucifixion. We let ourselves be taken by the duty or the joy of the moment. When we hand ourselves over to the circumstances of the present moment, fully present, giving ourselves to it, we put ourselves into this pattern of eternal life, the pattern of dying and rising.

It takes some trust. Trust to stay in the present rather than anticipate whatever may be on the horizon ahead of us. Trust to stay in the present rather than dragging along our resentments and hurts from the past.

David Steindl-Rast describes this kind of life as the life of leisure. "Leisure," he says," is the virtue of those who give time to whatever it is that takes time—give as much time as it takes."[i] He says that this quality of giving yourself, letting go, dying from moment to moment is our experience of eternal life in the eternal present and our participation in the resurrection life of Jesus who is always bringing life out of death.

My life is often the opposite of eternal life and resurrection life. It's often more like bondage. I look at my calendar. Before the day comes, I've nearly filled it up. Gotta get it done. Take care of business. Grab the bull by the horns. How many of you live that way? And then, depending on our temperament, at the end of the day, some of us go home and just collapse and others go to the gym and grab a workout to relax. That's not the life of leisure.

Eventually, we will all have to give this up. Eventually we will all die. As we die, we cannot do things, control things. We will all know this in the shadow of death. I remember visiting a beloved parishioner in my Mississippi church. What a good person; what a good life. I loved her so much. In her 90's now, she was dying, and she looked radiant even though confined to bed. She smiled at me and said, "I'm not afraid of dying. I'm really not." Then a cloud passed over her face. "I just wish I could get everything organized." And she glanced toward her spotless kitchen and workroom. I couldn't help but chuckle a little. This most organized person was having to let go one of the most driving purposes of her life—organizing everything in a proper order. I said to her, "Mamie, everything is just fine. From now on, you don't have to organize a single thing. It's all taken care of. In fact, there's nothing more for you to organize for the rest of your life." Her eyes got wide. There was a sparkle of happy wonder. Like that was too good to be true. Then a relaxing breath. "Well, I guess you're right. I don't have to do anything but just lie here, I guess." Then she giggled. "It's really about all I can do right now," she beamed. She had a holy death.

What if we died before we are forced to? What if we let ourselves be handed over to the circumstances of the present moment? When you think about it, it's really about all we can do right now, be fully present to the duty or joy of the moment. Take and bless what you are handed over to in each moment. Die to all your habits of worry and control. Surrender. Be. Then give leisurely to the moment whatever time it takes, living in the eternal now, trusting the rest of the universe to God.

It's a matter of remembering. Remember how Jesus was handed over, crucified, and risen. Take, bless, break, and give. Remember. It is the pattern of eternal life, the pattern of resurrection life. And if we are willing to remember, it begins here and now.

---

[i] Brother David Steindl-Rast, Learning to Die, published in Parabola, Volume 2, Number 1: "Death," Winter 1977; posted online February 29, 2016: http://parabola.org/2016/02/29/learning-die-brother-david-steindl-rast/