Posts Tagged ‘easter’

Violence against the innocent…

April 22, 2012

In our culture, it is common to complain about rising violence, and perceived dangers – especially in “big cities” – but it is rare for an instance of violence to touch us personally. When it does touch us – as with the death of Amber Kirwan,

or the steady stream of news from the Tori Stafford murder trial,

or, this past week Raymond Taavel,

our ideas of safety, of justice, and even our faith are challenged.

 

It is violence and the death of the innocent that brings out in us the highest emotions –

the sharpest sense of the need for justice (or vengeance).

While every death is a cause for sorrow,

the violent death of the innocent and the hands of the powerful

sharpens our sorrow into action and outrage.

 

But we feel powerless, don’t we…no amount of worrying, no amount of vigilance,

not even hundreds of prayers and pleas for peace, healing, deliverance or justice –

nothing seems to change the fact that those individuals (or institutions) intent on doing harm

will eventually have their way.

We dream of another reality – we long for a better world for our children and grand-children -

but the urge to oppress is to strong – prejudice is too deeply rooted –

the ‘us versus them’ pattern is too much a part of the “way of the world” to ever be overthrown -

and so the innocent continue to die – old prejudices are re-ignited – new fears are formed;

all because the world we inhabit fails to live up to the world as we imagine it should be.

 

The answer for some is to stop dreaming.

 

They argue that since my actions, my prayers, my desires seem to have no influence, I accept defeat.

With this attitude, neighbours ignore neighbours –

parents cloister their children – schools become fortresses –

the blame is dispensed among government agencies

and the general notion that “the world is changing” becomes an excuse for inaction.

 

We who would follow Christ have no such excuse.

That the world is changing is precisely the message that Jesus brought to his disciples in life –

and his resurrection confirms his teaching.

There is no going back – no hiding behind old prejudice – no running from the truth

in this changed and changing world that is revealed in the gospel according to Luke:

“And Jesus stood among them and said to them ‘Peace be with you.’

And they were startled and terrified and thought they were seeing a ghost.” (Luke 24:36b)

 

We cannot really understand the sense of astonishment that Luke is trying to convey.

Dead is dead, after all. And particularly violent death, like Crucifixion, brings mortality into sharp focus.

But to these gathered disciples, the idea of mortality has been torn to shreds.

Jesus lives – he should not, but he does.

Walking – talking – eating – comforting and yes, still teaching.

Jesus returns to a world gripped by violence – captive to an attitude of fear and resignation -

and calls us to reach out – to touch his risen body – and claim the dream of a world changed for the better – a world changed by the power, grace, and mercy of God.

 

That is the lesson of the resurrection.

Jesus , Luke says, opened their minds to understand the scriptures.

He showed them that the way of the world was no match for the persistent grace of God –

revealed in the faith of their ancient ancestors, and the proclamation of the prophets -

But most importantly, Jesus affirmed the triumph of Divine love

over human tendencies to selfishness, violence,and hate.

 

That is a lesson that we are especially ready to hear.

We have been beaten down by the seemingly constant stream of stories of human despair.

The current wisdom advises us to keep our heads down, our noses clean, and our own safety and best interests at heart – isolation is the only safety; that is what our experience in society tells us.

But our experience with Christ should tell us something else -

our willingness to live lives that are open to hurt and honest about pain and fear

will lead us to an experience of the living God – whose activity was not deflected by the violence of the cross, or the lonely finality of the tomb.

Our willingness to be involved in what the world calls lost causes –

things like the battle for equality – the fight against racism, sexism –

the ongoing struggle to come to terms with diversity of thought, lifestyle, religion,

and the urgent need for compassionate care for the mentally ill –

all of these things will put us in harms way –

but our devotion to the gospel of Christ compels us

to open ourselves to harm, ridicule and difficult personal choices, that God might be revealed.

“Thus it is written that Messiah is to suffer…”

to show us the way to the grace-filled kingdom of God –

that is found, not on some lofty cloud in some distant dream –

but in the midst of this hurt and harm.

 

The violent death of an innocent person –

in Jesus case, it galvanized people around the power of God.

It moved disciples and friends to speak out in favour of repentance, forgiveness and love,

in spite of threats and persecution and ridicule and death.

Jesus death and resurrection opened a new conversation about the ways of God

that has continued – unstoppable – for two thousand years.

Which is why, in our current cycle of distress within the institutional church (about our future)

and the questions from outside about the usefulness of the church,

we need not fear.

The conversation that followed the horrific death of Jesus of Nazareth is still going strong.

His story still inspires – and God still moves people who hear it to lives of service and devotion.

This story is still able to change lives – to encourage repentance and renew faith.

It is our story, and it will continue to calm fears and open eyes

to the glorious possibilities of God’s promise.

Fear and Amazement – and the foundation of faith

April 7, 2012

Nothing is going according to “the plan”

Not that it didn’t start out well -

  • Arrive in time for Passover: check
  • Seder dinner with best friends: check

but after that, it all went south…

Dinner ends with an argument about who will be faithful.

Jesus is troubled (worried) to death, so he retires to the hills for some quiet time –

his friends seem indifferent.

One of those ‘friends’ turned Jesus in as a revolutionary,

and arrives after dark with a lynch mob.

He was rapidly tried,

convicted of blasphemy, treason and causing a general nuisance,

denied amnesty, and sent to be executed.

Nothing had gone as planned.

It’s no wonder that the women are distraught – not thinking clearly.

Sure – Jesus spoke of an alternative – a kingdom of divine justice and mercy

Love one another – and love God with your whole heart,

but look at where that got Jesus…

The plan is in tatters, and these women hope to salvage some respect

for the memory of their teacher and friend by ministering to his remains at the tomb.

What meets them there, in the early hours of this brand new day makes no sense.

An open grave – occupied by a surprisingly lively young man dressed in white.

The messenger brings distressing words –

He is not here – then reminds them of Jesus promise to see them down the road in Galilee.

It’s no wonder they fled.

Terror and amazement – hand in hand – because neither one on its own is adequate -

our Christian Faith is founded on such primal emotions as these.

But for all the fear and amazement found in this morning’s gospel,

this act of discovery is not the most important piece of the puzzle.

Though it is the last act in the oldest versions of the gospel of Mark –

it is not the final word;

the empty tomb is not the definitive moment for the few who happened upon it.

Do I have your attention now?

On the day that the Christian community throughout the western world

breathe a collective sigh of relief,

and celebrate of the Resurrection of Jesus as the most significant event in the history of creation,

I am telling you that the discovery of the empty tomb is not really that important.

The stone is moved – the body is gone – the disciples are terrified…

and the most important thing is what happens next.

In fear and amazement, the women left.

They went home – trembling; terrified.  They wondered what it meant –

they considered that an empty grave might change the way they looked at the world.

What happened next is they lived with the consequences of Jesus empty tomb.

Only then did they see him.

Only then was the living, Risen Christ revealed to their eyes.

The gift of faith was a direct result of their fleeing in fear –

their amazement  is answered in the real world, on the streets of the city –

in their homes, on the beach…

The life of faith follows the path of fear and amazement;

each in equal measure responsible for our openness to the mystery and majesty of the living God.

Our fear of abandonment draws us into relationship and community.

Our amazement as we glimpse God’s glory in creation invites us to offer praise in worship.

Just as the first disciples came together

to (reluctantly) share their stories (and their sadness),

only to discover that something wonderful beyond their imaginations was happening.

The tomb is empty, and Jesus is among us –

and the most important thing is what happens next.

We gather today to remember the start of something wonderful –

and the most important thing, is what happens next…

God’s glory is loose in the world – God’s messenger has been raised –

death, it seems, is no barrier to the promise of God,

so what are you going to do about it?

We will continue to worship – in churches, in homes, in hospitals, in parks.

We will gather together around the Sacraments –

we will be both frightened and freed

by the promises offered at Baptism and by the hope expressed at the Lord’s Table.

We will reach out to our neighbours and our enemies,

because the love we’ve discovered knows no boundaries.

Will you join us?

Our gathering today is significant – full of faces -full of joy – full of life

But for many who gather today, tomorrow will be ‘just another Monday’,

But the tomb is empty – Jesus, it seems, has Risen –

and that means our former reality has been altered.

The powerful can still take a life, and snuff out rebellion, and demand obedience

But God has been revealed as more powerful than they.

The cross is now a sign, not of torture and submission,

but of the failure of human authority.

The grave is no longer the finish line – but our new starting point.

And the most important part of the story is in our hands – with God’s help.

What happens next is up to you and I.

In the ongoing story of God’s work among us, we represent the newest chapter –

our lives and our stories will be the foundation for another generation of fearful, faithful people.

All because he is not where they laid him;

He is risen.  Risen indeed.

Hallelujah!  Amen.

Easter 2 C – Incarnational

April 10, 2010

This week, my status as a technological dinosaur was confirmed.

While replacing my cell phone, whose contract had expired, I made the mistake of asking for “just a phone” – not a camera – not a mini computer with a full ‘texting’ keyboard not a combination GPS – web-browsing – book-reading smart phone – just a phone.   The sales rep gave me a look of combined shock and sympathy.

I don’t mind being a dinosaur – it doesn’t mean I’m anti-technology; (I have a cell phone, don’t I?)

I can run a computer, and I appreciate the internet for what it is – a big distraction with occasional bits of useful information, through which I can do my banking, order books and book flights and hotel rooms and rental cars.

No, my resistance to a technological takeover is theological.  I don’t believe God is anti-technology either – any more than God is anti-industrial, or anti-recreation – my theological argument boils down to one word – Incarnation.

Incarnation is a big deal as far the Christian Church is concerned- you might say it sets us apart from the crowd – for God chose to appear – in the flesh, as we understand it – in the person of Jesus, whom we call The Christ.

Having tried several other applications – burning bush, pillar of fire, thunderous heavenly voice, badly dressed desert prophets – God ultimately chose to ‘take a meeting’, and that has made all the difference for us.  Incarnation is what makes the church different from the culture – especially this culture, that has come to believe that technology can make everything (including relationship) simpler and better.

Now, I have encountered people in on-line forums with whom I have had meaningful dialogue.  I have reconnected with classmates, caught up on the news, discussed and debated the state of the church.  But none of these things, in the end, are as satisfying as a meeting over lunch, or a conversation shared in the course of an otherwise tedious road trip.

Nothing beats seeing the look of discovery on a friend’s face when you tell them your good news; there’s no gift like an encouraging smile when you share your dreams, or confront your fears with someone you’ve come to trust.

That is the gift that the disciples receive on this day, in that locked room.  The technology of their world, rough as it might seem to our advanced eyes, has been turned against them.  They are no longer welcomed in the usual social circles.  In the eyes of the world they are accomplices, not apostles.  They are isolated and afraid, and rightly so, when Jesus comes into their midst.

Yet He would banish their fears by being with them.  He will set their minds at ease by showing them his reality – letting them touch and wonder.  He will do this as long as it is necessary – one week later, for Thomas, he offers the same solution.

That personal contact and gathering together – to share the good news that all is not lost – to remember the world has not conquered – becomes the hallmark of the followers of Christ – the backbone of the Christian church.  The church remains different because we share this passion for personal contact.  Because we insist on gathering together, sometimes in fear (though rarely with the doors locked these days) so that we might see and believe that Jesus is raised – that hope is not lost – that God is with us.

In an article in the Christian Century (discovered on-line) on the importance of Incarnation throughout the story of Jesus, Margaret Geunther writes:

“Jesus’ appearance in the midst of his frightened friends is a story of incarnation, and reminds us that God came and comes among us, experiencing and loving our humanity. We are aware of this at Christmas, when we hear that “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.” Then the churches fill, and even nonbelievers are drawn instinctively by the powerful image of God coming among us in the perfection, loveliness and vulnerability of a baby. Yet Good Friday is about the incarnation too. Jesus on the cross is an icon of suffering, a powerful statement about the flesh and particularly about its terrible vulnerability. His Passion reminds us of our almost infinite capacity to inflict and suffer hurt. Easter comes as a real relief from the uncomfortable physicality of Good Friday…He still comes in everydayness. He still says: see my hands and my feet. Don’t avert your eyes from my wounds out of politeness or disgust. Look at them. Put your finger here. Don’t be afraid. Remember the incarnation. I came among you first in human flesh–flesh that can be hungry and fed, flesh that can be hurt, even killed. Flesh that can embody God’s love.” i

We can’t have this experience on-line.  There is no application – no phone smart enough – to convey that sense of peace and assurance that we get when we gather together, to remind one another of God’s activity among us.

Gathered as a body of believers, the wounded, risen body of our Saviour is made real to us.  Only then can we find the courage we need to face the world for whom he died and was raised.

Amen

iMargaret Guenther “Mediated through the flesh – John 20:19-31 – Living by the Word – Column“. Christian Century. FindArticles.com. 10 Apr, 2010. http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1058/is_n12_v112/ai_16847106/

Easter 2010 – No idle tale…

April 4, 2010

Old Testament – Isaiah 65: 17-25

Responsive Reading – Psalm 118

Epistle – 1 Corinthians 15: 19-26

“Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee,

that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, be crucified,

and on the third day rise again.”

These are the words that start the ball rolling toward belief in the impossible

for those brave women at Jesus’ tomb.

Impossible, because the world simply did not work that way.

Dead was dead, and there was nothing that could be done.

They had their own experience and the weight of cultural opinion on their side.

They knew everything about life and death that there was to know –

they lived in a very advanced society; they were firm in their convictions…

and as it happens, on this morning,

on the first day of this brand new week, they were wrong.

History confirms that we are able (and willing) to believe any number of things.

We believed quite firmly that humans beings were unable to fly.

That the earth was the centre of the universe –

and that if you sailed far enough, you would fall off the edge.

At various times we have believed that the colour of a persons skin determined their worth

that you country of origin determined your character.

We were able to convince ourselves that women were property, not people

that our emotions were controlled by our blood –

that diseases were divine judgement – and natural events could be ‘controlled’ by ritual sacrifice.

Some of these beliefs continue in altered form –

some things are so firmly fixed in us as to be immovable.

Others change as our knowledge expands and our understanding adapts.

We have figured out how to use power, wind and wings to remain airborne;

we have adopted a model of the universe that is infinitely larger that we once imagined -

and does not place us at the centre

we have circled the globe and have begun to accept that,

while not everyone is the same, everyone has value.

Our beliefs can and will change as new evidence is revealed to us

and in that ancient graveyard, on the first day of the week,

these women received news that altered the way we see the universe.

Life and death have long been unchangeable mysteries

what lay beyond death brought all kinds of religious speculation

in nearly every recorded culture.

If life brought fear and hardship and uncertainty, death brought even more.

And here at Jesus tomb, his friends brought all those fears and doubts

only to have them thrown aside by the words “he is not here – but is risen”

Could the world suddenly be so different?

Can the rules change overnight?

Can there possibly be something more powerful that death?

The answer to all those questions on this day, is yes!

Without understanding how it works,

these women, on the strength of their own senses, are moved to believe in the impossible.

The world is different – absolutely different –

because death is not the last act (but rather, an intermission…) in the drama of our existence.

The rules as they knew them have been cast aside –

God has proven God’s power over the thing that holds us all captive –

death (and fear of it) – by springing the trap and raising Jesus.

The proof will come for these women – and for the rest of the disciples.

Jesus will once again move among them – eat with them – teach and bless them –

but belief does not need proof. (Belief is an act of the imagination).

Today our imaginations are once again being fed. In this act of great power that we remember this morning, God, through the resurrection of Jesus, invites us to re-imagine the way the world works.

Today we are reminded that our notions of how the world works might be wrong:

death is not the end – and therefore should have no power over us.

God is greater than our greatest fear – Christ lives, and though we cannot (yet) see him, the evidence of his living is overwhelming. Lives continue to be changed – all because we chose to believe what seemed ‘an idle tale’ – He is not dead – he has Risen.

Alleluia – Amen

Who will roll away the stone?

April 10, 2009

Often, our most difficult moments are reduced to the simplest of questions;

what will we do next?”

such simplicity flies in the face of our troubles – lives torn apart, future uncertain, hopes dashed

yet when those questions are too big – too overwhelming – we concentrate on the necessities,

the next breath – the next step.

Rather than trying to rebuild in the midst of the wreckage,

we look for the simplest way to clear the building site – but,

who will roll away the stone?

We are praised for our willingness to forge ahead,

whatever the obstacles.

We counsel one another to “keep on living – to get back to business”

as the best remedy for a multitude of tragic circumstances.

But to everyone there comes a time when the load is just too heavy.

There is no way around, over or through.

When that time comes, are we any more able

to hear words of grace, or to notice that the weight has just been lifted?

Who will roll away the stone?

That was the pressing question,

among the many questions of these friends of Jesus.

The stone was heavy, and given the circumstances surrounding Jesus death,

they had every right, as friends of a convicted trouble-maker,

to expect trouble with the authorities.

Their day was full of trouble, and the sun was barely risen.

Imagine the surprise – the terror -

on finding the tomb standing open…

their only fear replaced by the unspeakable;

what more could the authorities do than kill Jesus?

Who would have opened the grave?

An open tomb is not a comforting sight

when your mind is clouded with grief.

Mark’s gospel does not let those clouds disperse.

The women maintain their fear and amazement.

The spices are forgotten,

for the young man in white has given them new questions to ponder;

the gospel concludes in silence and fear – but that fear cannot last.

The open grave has become, in this moment, the entrance to life.

The miracle of Easter is not that the tomb is empty,

not that the women meet what must surely be an angel,

nor is the miracle simply that Jesus is risen.

The miracle of Easter is that our every question – our every difficulty

is met with a single response;

The stone has been rolled away.

It was a task we could not manage, and yet it has been accomplished.

God has lifted the weight from us – done all the heavy work

and left us to wonder what comes next.

We want to see Jesus – to find that proof which will settle our racing hearts

and clear our clouded minds – and we will,

but the miracle of Easter is in that freedom of spirit we find

when we discover that our most difficult and worrying obstacles

have been effortlessly shifted in the night

and that our way ahead is now clear.

What we could not imagine – the one thing that stood in our way

is no longer an issue.

Death itself has lost its power over us;

God has sent an unmistakeable message.

The tomb is open and empty;

our teacher – our saviour waits ahead for us.

He is not here, he is risen, just as he said.

Alleluia – Alleluia – Amen.


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