Love and Resurrection (and Fear Again)

The theme of fear continues in the third week of Easter.  Two weeks ago it was Mark.  Last week, John.  Now this week, Luke.  It is a common theme.  The response to the good news of resurrection is fear, or perhaps better understood, Easter is not only about life’s confrontation of death.  It is about love’s confrontation of fear. 

Love is risky business, as the life of Jesus so powerfully reveals.  We know it in our own lives, as well.  Love inherently runs the risk of rejection.  It runs the risk of disappointment.  It runs the risk of pain.  It runs the risk of betrayal.  It runs the risk of loss.  There is just no getting around it.  Risk is simply the cost of love.

And still, love is the one thing that makes life matter.  It is, I believe, the only thing that lasts.  It is, for that reason, the essence of resurrection.  Resurrection is love’s greatest proclamation.

Jesus response to the fearful disciples in this week’s gospel (Lk. 24:26b-38), is not to ignore the fear.  In some ways it is to confirm it.  He does not say, as he sometimes does, do not be afraid.  Instead he shows them his hands and his feet, which bear the wounds of the crucifixion.  The response of Jesus is not to erase the fear, it is to confront it in all of its painful reality.  Love does not make fear go away.  It is, though, what overcomes it.

Peace,

Do You Believe This?

“Jesus said to Martha, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.  Do you believe this?’”  (Jn.  11:25-26)  It is Jesus’ own announcement of the resurrection.  “I am the resurrection and the life.”  And just as important as what he said about it is to whom he said it.  Martha, the sister of Lazarus and Mary.

Martha is better known for another appearance in the Gospels, the story about Martha’s frustration with her sister Mary’s failure to help with the serving when Jesus was a guest in their home.  (Lk. 10:38-42)  Leaving aside what all that is about for now, Martha appears in one other event, a story again about Jesus being a guest in her home.  (Jn. 12:1-8)  All it is recorded is this:   “Martha served.” 

I think the overall message is that that is all one really needs to know.  Martha served.  And it is to her, the server, the one sometimes distracted by all the doing, that Jesus proclaimed the reality of the resurrection:  “I am the resurrection and the life. . . . Do you believe this?” 

The believing Jesus is talking about as essential to life is not something you do with your head.  It is far too easy to say even that it is something you do with your heart, although that gets closer to the idea.  The believing that leads to resurrection is much more active than something to keep on the inside.  Rather, it shows forth in the work of the hands.  It shows forth in walking with Jesus along the way of including the outcasts and healing the sick.  It is active in proclaiming release to the captives.  The life of the resurrection is not something that has to do with what one thinks.  It has to do with what one does.  It has to do with what one invests because of what one hopes.  It has to do with acting.  That is the only sort of belief that matters in a Jesus sense.   

Belief in the resurrection is about acting on that belief.  That’s the sort of belief Jesus said would defeat even death.  And that’s why, I believe, he picked Martha to share this good news with.  Servant that she was, she had already shown her believing abundantly.

Peace,

Grace is Not Limited by Law

The big theological debate of Jesus’ day was about the resurrection.  The Pharisees, along with Jesus, believed in it.  The Sadducees did not.  The answer has to do with the law and its limitations. 

The Sadducees looked to Torah and found nothing there about the resurrection.  Indeed, the law does not speak to the resurrection explicitly.  In fact, Deuteronomy, particularly surrounding the death of Moses, strongly suggests that there is no resurrection. 

The Pharisees believed differently.  Their argument is not directly from Scripture but on the implication of Scripture—from the kind of God Scripture describes, well, there must be a resurrection. 

Jesus makes something of an argument by implication himself in this week’s gospel reading (Lk. 20:27-38).  Based on the description in Genesis that God is the God of the patriarchs, Jesus concludes that God is only the God of the living and not of the dead and it really wouldn’t make much sense if Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob were just dead and not raised to new life.  Well, it is something of a logical sleight of hand since the plain sense of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is that God is the God of Abraham in his life and of Isaac in his life and of Jacob in his life, not necessarily then and forever. 

But I don’t think Jesus is pulling a logical trick here.  Jesus is asserting that grace cannot be limited by law.  On the merits of it, I think you have to give the Sadducees that purely on the basis of Scripture, meaning in this case the Torah, you certainly couldn’t require a belief in the resurrection if indeed you can derive one at all.  On the other hand, if grace is not restricted by the letter of the law, there is plenty of reason to hope.  That, I think, is Jesus’ point. 

At least that is the way it is for God, that God’s extravagant grace cannot be limited or controlled by law (which, by the way, is an expression of God’s grace, not its antithesis).  The question is whether we share enough of God’s generosity for it to be that way for us.

Peace,
+Stacy

Restoration and Resurrection

It may be outside our everyday experience, but, the restoration of life to the dead is not all that uncommon a biblical event.  This week’s gospel reading about the son of the widow of Nain (Lk. 7:11-15) is one example.  There are others.  There is the daughter of Jairus (Lk. 8:41-42, 49-56).  Most famous of all, probably, is Lazarus (Jn. 11). 

There are other instances, including outside the New Testament and including actors other than Jesus.  Elijah restored the life of the son of the widow of Zarephath is this week’s Old Testament reading (1 Kg. 17:17-24). 

These events are described in various ways.  Jesus described raising Lazarus as an “awakening.”  Elijah prayed that “life would come again.”  Acts says that Peter “showed her to be alive.”  In not one of these, though, is the word for resurrection used.  They are resuscitations, maybe even revivals, certainly restorations, but they are not described as resurrections.  Resurrection is a far different thing than restoration.  

Here’s the big difference.  A common theme of the resurrection is that the resurrected life is completely different from life as it has been.  In fact, it is not recognizable in the old way at all.  Take the story from John about Mary Magdalene at the tomb (Jn. 20:11-18).  She had been one of Jesus’ closest followers.  Still, in the resurrection, she mistook him for the gardener. 

It is the same in Luke.  There two disciples were walking from Jerusalem to Emmaus on the first Easter Sunday.  Jesus walked with them.  They walked the whole way together with him teaching them about Scripture, and still they did not recognize him until they had settled into an inn and were at supper that evening.  And no sooner did they recognize them than he disappeared from them.  (Lk. 24:13-35).

Matthew tells a story with a similar theme.  “Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted.”  (Mt. 28:16-17)  There they were looking at him dead on, and they did not believe it was he. 

What I have come to wonder is if the disciples were all essentially looking for the wrong thing, that which was not really there, so that they were unable to see what really was.  Of course, the same wonderment applies to us.

They were looking for Jesus as they had known him.  The Jesus they had known, however, was not there.  It is no accident, I think, that the resurrection is proclaimed only by the announcement that “he is not here,” or in effect, “you are looking in the wrong place.  The women at the tomb, and later the male disciples who went to see for themselves, were looking with eyes that could not see this fundamental truth.  What had been was no longer, and a new reality, the reality of the resurrection, had replaced it.   

Far too often we think of the resurrection as a continuation of life as we have known it in the past.  We may catch glimpses of phantoms in that, but we will not catch sight of the risen Jesus.  In the risen Jesus, life is new, not merely continued; life is whole, not merely interminably long; life is completely different, not merely more of the same. 

It is probably not too surprising that that may be a little bit more than we are prepared to see.

Peace,
+Stacy

Resurrection is Not More of the Same

Resurrection is a hard concept to get.  It is not the same thing as resuscitation.  

There is the son of the widow of Nain (Lk. 7:11-15).  There is the daughter of Jairus (Lk. 8:41-42, 49-56).  Most famous of all, probably, is Lazarus (Jn. 11).  Jesus refers to his own action regarding Lazarus as awakening him, not resurrecting him.  In not one instance is the word resurrection used.

There are other instances, including outside the New Testament and including actors other than Jesus.  Elijah restored the life of the son of the widow of Zarephath (1 Kg. 17:17-24).  He himself prayed, “Let this child’s life come into him again” (v. 21), and the text says that the child was “revived” (v. 22).  Peter restored life to a disciple named Tabitha in Joppa (Acts 9:36-41).  Acts says that “he showed her to be alive” (v. 41).  There is no mention of resurrection.  

Indeed, whatever happened on that first Easter morning, it was not resuscitation or the revival of Jesus’ dead body.  Whatever it was, it was something different with Jesus. It was something different than what had been before with him.  Mary Magdalene, the first of his disciples to see him, did not recognize him (Jn. 20:15).  The life of Jesus was not the same as it had been before.  Two of his closest disciples walked all the way from Jerusalem to Emmaus with him and did not know who he was (Lk. 24:13 ff.).  The life of Jesus was not the same as it had been before.  As instructed, the eleven, Jesus’ most intimate friends, gathered to meet him on a mountain in Galilee to which they had been directed.  Even then, not all recognized him (Mt. 28:17).  The life of Jesus was not the same as it had been before.  

The life of the resurrection as made known in Jesus is not the same as a continuation of life as it has been.  Resurrection is not the same as resuscitation or even revival.  Those, miraculous as they may be, are just a continuation of what has been.  Resurrection is not.  It is something entirely new.  It has no biblical parallel.  And it has no parallel, at least exactly, in our experience of life this side of the kingdom of God.

The fact that it is so completely new, life so completely changed, is what it makes it so hard to accept.  Human beings, I think, are innately conservative.  Better stated, it is really more that we are innately cautious, indeed fearful.  That could be, I think, because we are the only creatures innately aware of our impending deaths.  But for whatever reason, the life of the resurrection is difficult for us to accept precisely because it is not the same old thing, not a continuation of what we have always known, not more of the same.  That is why it takes courage.  And courage, even for those of us who have it, is more than a little difficult to access.  

Still, our message is that we are being called not into continued being but into new being; not into the same old thing, but into newness of life; not something we already know, but something completely without precedent, except in Jesus; not into resuscitated life, but into resurrected life.

The adventure we set out on after Easter is to find out if we’re up to it.  Courage, friends!  And remember.  Jesus has gone on before.

Peace,
+Stacy

Overcoming Religion for Easter

Peter preached a sermon (Acts 10:34-43) in the months immediately after the death and resurrection of Jesus.  For close to 2,000 Easters, and I say this from some personal experience of having tried to preach on 1% of those Easters, preachers have struggled to find something new to explain it.  It is impossible really.  Perhaps Peter put it best in his sermon.  He just announced it—no elaborations, no reflections, no explanations—just announced it.  “God raised him on the third day.”  That was it.  

The truth is that the New Testament really doesn’t say much more than that about the resurrection.  None of the gospels describe the actual event—how, exactly the stone was rolled away, or what happened at the dramatic moment when the body of Jesus arose.  That is a little curious, I think, given how central the resurrection is to Christian faith.  Still, neither the gospels nor the apostle Paul say any more than Peter did—just an announcement.  God raised him on the third day.  He is risen.  That’s about it. 

And could the reason that the Bible says so little about the details of Easter be that the details are not remotely important?  The point of the story of the New Testament, it seems to me, is not nearly so much what you think about the resurrection.  It is what you do about it.  Indeed, repeatedly in the gospels, the disciples are not at all sure what to think.  In John, the disciples who got to the tomb first weren’t sure what to think.  In Luke, even in the presence of the risen Jesus, some of the disciples doubted.  In Matthew, those who were with him on the mountain after the resurrection doubted.  What matters is what they did.  They lived the resurrection.  They lived as if death no longer had power over them.  What matters is that they lived as if all that divides one human being from another no longer existed.

And that brings me back to that early sermon Peter preached about Easter, and to the part of Acts leading up to it.  Because the point is not what Peter said about the resurrection and more about what he did about it, about how Peter was changed by it, changed from old ways to new ways, changed from death to life, changed from being governed by what divides to being an instrument of reconciliation. 

The words of Peter’s sermon are addressed to a man named Cornelius, his family, his friends, and his household.  There were many people there according to Acts, which is not surprising as Cornelius was a man of some importance and means.  He was a Roman centurion, and not one of the mercenary soldiers from other parts of the Empire common in Judea, but an actual Roman.  He was a good man.  A generous man.  A supporter of the synagogue.  But he was not a Jew.  No matter how you cut it, Cornelius was a Gentile, a foreigner, unclean. 

In fact, Peter’s first words to Cornelius were, “You . . . know that it is unlawful for a Jew to associate with or to visit a Gentile.”  And then Peter went on.  “But God has shown me that I should not call anyone profane or unclean.”  And then Peter begins his sermon with these words:  “I truly understand that God shows no partiality.” 

For Peter, that is a matter of the resurrection. That is change inspired by the resurrection.  That is faith in the resurrection showing forth in living a life of witness to the resurrection, a life in the service of reconciliation. 

That gets to the heart of the resurrection for all of us.  To have faith in the resurrection is to give up partiality, things of our own creation that divide us, all things that prevent our reconciliation, that prevent the love of God for our neighbors from being made real, for God knows no partiality at all.  What the resurrection does is destroy all that divides in the name of God’s overpowering reconciliation that will be held back by nothing, not even death itself.

Now things that divide us are not that easy to give up.  After all, they are deeply cherished.  After all, they are all we have ever known.  After all, they are often matters of principle, of conviction.  After all, they are very often full of religious meaning for us, as they were for Peter. 

It is hard for us to associate what is religious with something God is working beyond all imagination to defeat.  But when anything, including religion itself, divides us, that is exactly what we can expect from Easter, that God will defeat it.  “I truly understand that God shows no partiality.” 

Forty-five years ago this Thursday, which was a Thursday that year also, the Thursday before Palm Sunday, a man who had incredible faith in the resurrection entered into it fully.  That man’s name was Martin Luther King, Jr. Forty-five years ago this Thursday, he left Atlanta on an airplane to take part in the sanitation workers strike in Memphis for the reason that God knows no partiality.  And on that evening, 45 years ago last night, King preached these final words:

[God has] allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.

The next day he was dead.  And that very costly stand against what divides, as religiously essential as many of us thought that division was at the time, was a product, I am sure, of the resurrection and an encounter with the risen Jesus.  “Mine eye have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”  The question is, of course, have ours? 

That is what the resurrection is all about.  It is about living in the light of the glory of the coming of the Lord, that in the coming of the Lord there is no partiality.  None.  It is living in the light of the resurrection.  It is in living in light of the fact that God knows no partiality.  None.

Not that that’s an easy thing to do.  Partiality is a hard thing to give up.  Fear is a hard thing to give up.  Somehow, partiality is a comfort, a defense, an illusion that we are somehow worthy, deserving, entitled to God’s special care.  We would rather that be the case.  It is not.  The reason that is good news to us is that we are the people that, before the resurrection, Peter would have characterized as foreign, unclean, Gentiles.  It is only by the power of what the resurrection meant, and what a group of followers of Jesus decided to do about it, that we are included beyond the very religious barrier that Peter had to overcome. 

Is the resurrection enough for us to overcome the things that divide us in our own day—national origin, language spoken, gender, opinion, political party, class, tax bracket, orientation?  Is it?  Religion notwithstanding?  Might the resurrection even have the power for us to overcome our religion?

So, here’s the basic proclamation.  God raised him on the third day.  He is risen.  That’s it.  What we think about it matters not a bit.  What we believe about it does, but only in the sense of what we do about it, what we overcome because of it, how we live because of it—without division, without partiality, all religion to the contrary notwithstanding.

Peace,
+Stacy