Easter: Looking for Jesus? He is Alive! – Tim Schmucker – April 12/09

Here we are, THE most significant days of the Christian year. Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Crucifixion and resurrection. Death and new life.

Exactly nine years ago, with new-born Christopher in our arms, we made a tear-filled trip to Ohio. Dad’s cancer was back, back with a vengeance. We had been told a year before that this aggressive cancer would be fatal. And sooner, not later. Now, he had a few months at most. Yet, as I sat at his bedside in their bedroom the next morning, sobbing and saying “Dad, I’m going to miss you”, he stroked my face and arms, responding that just as nothing can separate us from God’s love, so too nothing, not even death, would be able to break the love we have for each other.

Dad deeply understood that his dying would not be a victory for death, for “death has been swallowed up in victory. Where O death is your victory? Where O death is your sting?” He was at peace.

And that was the beginning of Dad’s gift of new life to us as he died. During the following three months or so, as we cried and grieved and struggled, Dad gave us the gift of peace and modeled trust in God who swallowed up death forever. He pastored us, gently yet firmly encouraging us to celebrate his life, to accept the reality of his imminent death, and to start to learn to live without him. He held us tightly, blessing us with his peace.

Then came the last weeks. He was still at home, but downstairs in the living-room in a hospice bed. On the last day, we were all gathered — all his children and grandchildren. Jacqui’s mom too. We were on holy ground, accompanying Dad to the end. And in the midst of tears and last good-byes was 5 month old Christopher who clearly could no longer be satisfied with only breast milk. He simply would not allow us to wait, as we had planned, until after Dad’s death for us to introduce him to solid foods. So, on the dining room table next to Dad, an hour before he took his last breath, we nourished Christopher’s new life with some bland vegetable puree. And we were nourished with new life experienced in Dad’s peace as his life came to an end. A holy and sacred moment.

We here at TUMC are also on sacred ground. Several weeks ago we embraced our dear Edith as she came to Sunday worship for the last time. Profound love, peace and tears were deeply shared. The Grade 4-5 SS Class, where I started teaching with Edith 6 or 7 years ago and where she was the “grandma” until recently, made cards for her. Edith is a model of peace, love and life until the end. And in the last two weeks, many of us are rejoicing, shouting out loud!, with Nino and Geisa in the birth of Nicolas, a new life that took many years and many tears to arrive. In her imminent death, Edith gives us the gift of new life with her peace and love. And with Nino and Geisa we begin to nourish new life with Nicolas.

Death and new life. Crucifixion and resurrection. This Easter morning we rejoice with the words “Christ is Risen”. Jesus is Alive!

It is good to be in a place of joy and hope, Yet in our haste to get to Easter, we often rush past Good Friday. Or we plunge into the darkness of Jesus’ passion as a symbol of our darkness, the world’s sin. Or we simply gloss over the crucifixion as a pre-ordained sacrifice. But let’s stop for a moment to ask the question, “Why was Jesus killed?” Just why was Jesus killed?

The fact that Jesus was crucified – hung on a cross – tells us that he was executed by Rome, by the empire that ruled his world. It was an imperial form of execution, not a Jewish one. Crucifixion made a statement. There were other forms of Roman capital punishment, such as beheading. But crucifixion was designed to be brutal and very public. Rome reserved crucifixion for those who challenged their rule, those who re fused to accept their established authority. Jesus was crucified pre cisely because it made a public statement, the empire declaring “this is what we do to people who oppose us.”

Okay, but still, what was it about Jesus and his movement that so provoked the authorities at the top of the Roman Empire? For Jesus was clearly not simply an arbitrary victim of that domination system’s brutality. He was a prophetic teacher filled with passion. And his passion, his message, was about the kingdom of God. He spoke to Jewish peasants as a voice of religious protest against the dominant economic and political institutions of his day. He attracted a following, took his movement to Jerusalem at the season of Passover, and there chal lenged the authorities with public acts and debates. All of this was his passion – the king dom of God and God’s passion for justice.

It was this passion got
him killed. Good Friday is the collision between the passion of Jesus and the domination system of his time – the Roman empire. Jesus’ execution, then, was virtually an inevitability. This is simply what domination systems do to people who challenge them. Just ask Derek and Christopher about Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back. Darth Vader and the emperor set out to annihilate all opposition, all threats to their domination. And this is not just in George Lucas’ Star Wars world; it hap pened often in the ancient world and it still happens in ours. Just in the small Jewish corner of the Roman Empire, it happened to John the Baptizer. Then Jesus. And then Paul, Peter, and James.  Check out the Martyrs’ Mirror sometime; it’s in our library. We heard two stories from it here, Good Friday evening.

With this context, let’s turn to the Gospel reading for this Easter morning. Though it’s in Paul’s letters where we find the earliest testimony to the post -Easter Jesus, the earliest story of Easter is in Mark. And Mark’s narrative is surprising. First, it is very brief, only eight verses. Matthew’s twenty, Luke’s fifty-three, and John’s has fifty-six. But Mark’s, only 8. Secondly, Mark does not report an appear ance of the risen Jesus. And third, Mark’s story ends very abruptly: “So the women went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”

Full stop. End of story, end of gospel. The ending is not only abrupt, but puzzling. Ac cording to Mark, the women do not tell anybody; they are afraid. His ending was deemed so unsatisfactory that as early as the second century a longer ending was added. Let’s explore the meaning of Mark’s Easter story.

But first, I want to say something clearly, right up front. It’s about the second part of this sermon’s title: “Jesus is Alive!” Those of you who know me well, and those who remember Doug Johnson Hatlem and me having a brotherly disagreement last year here in the pulpit on the nature of the resurrection will be wondering what I mean by “Jesus is Alive!”. For me, the truth, the meaning, of that definitive declaration goes far beyond its videotape-ability. If you believe that Jesus bodily came back to life, that’s fine. Now let’s talk about what it means. What’s the meaning of it? Let’s not get bogged down in the factual debate, and miss the meaning. For my part, I think that being true and faithful to our beloved scriptures, and to their original intent means that we understand Jesus’ resurrection as parable, as metaphor. These stories were not written thinking of our modern prejudice of “truth as historical fact”. The gospel writers didn’t understand historical truth the way we do, and thus they wrote history differently.

Yet in no way does this detract from its meaning. Just as the truth and meaning of Jesus’ story of the Good Samaritan, for example, clearly does not depend on whether it could have been video-taped, so too the resurrection. Its truth and meaning goes waaaay beyond its historicity or factuality or its literalness. The Resurrection has, as distinguished scholar Marcus Borg has passionately described, a “more-than-factual, more-than-literal” meaning. I believe, and it’s my experience, that understanding Jesus’ resurrection in this way embodies it with meaning incredibly rich and profound, way beyond that which it has otherwise.

So, what does Mark’s story of the resurrection mean as parable? Again, I affirm that the resurrection is powerfully true. The story of the empty tomb is powerfully evocative, to use one of Jodie’s favourite adjectives:

1. Jesus was sealed in a tomb, but the tomb could not hold him; the stone has been rolled away. Death could not contain Jesus and his message of God’s Kingdom of love and justice.
2. Jesus is not to be found in the land of the dead: “He is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him.” Jesus is among the living. Look for him there…. Here.
3. Jesus has been raised. As the young man in white tells the women this, he explicitly mentions the crucifixion: Jesus “who was crucified” by empire authorities “has been raised” by God. God has said “yes” to Jesus and “no” to the powers who killed him. God has vindicated Jesus.
4. His followers are promised: “You will see him.” He will continue to be present with you…. With us.

Deep and powerful truths.

Let’s look more closely at Mark’s Easter story, his last chapter, only 8 verses long, that xyz read. Especially the last two verses. Mark ends his gospel with a so very brief story of Easter Sunday morning. The two Marys plus Salome go to the tomb to anoint Jesus’ body only to find a mysterious young man pointing to Jesus’ empty tomb and announcing the resurrection. Then the very last verse: “So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” The End.  Not only does this verse fail to provide closure to the story, it also lurches to an awkward grammatical stop. A more literal translation from the Greek would read: “To no one anything they said; afraid they were for….” Sounds like the Jedi Master Yoda … I mean it sounds like Mark was suddenly dragged from his writing desk in midsentence!

A student of the late church leader and Markan scholar Donald Juel memorised the whole gospel of Mark to do a dramatic reading before a live audience. At his first performance, after he spoke that las
t verse, he stood there awkwardly, with the audience waiting – waiting for more, waiting for closure, for a proper ending. Finally, after anxious seconds, he said “amen” and made his exit. The relieved audience applauded loudly. However, the student performer realised that he had betrayed the dramatic intention of the text. So at the next performance, when he reached the final verse, he simply paused for a second and left the stage in silence. The discomfort and uncertainty within the audience were obvious, and as the people exited, the buzz of conversation was dominated by the experience of the non-ending.

For us too, Mark’s ending creates discomfort and uncertainty because we know from the other gospels how the story is supposed to end: post-resurrection appearances, joyful seaside meals, scenes of reconciliation and forgiveness, garden embraces of the risen Lord, and the disciples’ excited shout, “He is Risen”. But Mark, the earliest Gospel writer, chooses instead to end his story, indeed his whole gospel, with frightened women fleeing from a cemetery in silence. Whoa! That’s no way to run a resurrection!

Seriously, Mark was trying to impart a different kind of Easter message, another dimension of Easter faith. The key is in the second-to-last verse, verse 7: “Go tell his disciples,” the young man at the empty tomb says, “that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.” Go to Galilee! Two key questions here:

1. Who are his disciples? Well, Peter and Mary, James, Martha and John,  of course. But you too. We too are Jesus’ disciples. We are included in the young man’s instructions.
2. And where is Galilee? Well, north of Jerusalem, of course. But also at the very beginning of Mark’s gospel. Chapter 1: “Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news, the gospel of God, and saying ‘the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near.”

In other words, reader of Mark’s gospel, you’ve arrived at the last verse, but the story isn’t over. Leave the empty tomb now, go back and read and experience the gospel again. Like the disciples, you did not understand this story fully the first time. Now that you have been to the cross and the tomb, go back and read it again. We need to immerse ourselves in the gospel again, gospelise ourselves again. And we will discover again Jesus’ message about “the way” and the kingdom.

There is one more thing to say about the experiences that lie at the heart of Easter. They carried with them the conviction that God had vindicated Jesus, his life and teachings. Easter is not simply about people experiencing a person who has died. The Easter stories are not “ghost stories”. Rather, they are stories of vindication, of God’s “yes” to Jesus. God has made him Lord. Take that, powers of this world. You’ve been vanquished! Take that, empires that oppress and destroy. You’ve met your Waterloo. There is a force more powerful. The love and non-violence exemplified in Jesus. “Jesus is Lord” is the post-Easter equivalent of Jesus’ own proclamation of the kingdom of God. The creator God is king, and the kings of this world are not. Not even Barack Obama. Jesus is Lord, and the lords of this world are not. And just as Jesus’ passion for the kingdom led him to oppose the Roman imperial domination system, so his followers’ passion for the Lordship of Christ led them to defy the lordship of Caesar. And Jesus’ followers today will defy the empires of militarism and materialism that oppress the weak, and oppose God’s kingdom of love, justice and peace.

And now we need to return to the cross. We can’t understand Jesus’ resurrection without understanding the cross as the way of Jesus. And the cross is both personal and political. Let’s begin with the per sonal. The death and resurrection of Jesus is our fundamental image for the path of per sonal transformation. This path means dying to an old way of being and living, and being reborn into a new way of being and living. This is familiar language for many of us. However familiar, it means that Good Friday and Easter have powerful personal meaning. Jesus’ followers are invited on the journey that leads through death to new life. Personal transformation is utterly impor tant. Without it, we are stuck within our society’s framework of Hollywood ethics, Eaton Centre values, Wall Street and Bay Street morals, and military principles. Without the personal transformation of the cross, we simply can’t be resurrected into God’s kingdom — a kingdom of love, justice and peace that simply could not, would not be established with armed force, as some disciples wanted. We are to be transformed into new life, rooted in God’s love and peace.

When we hear the words “transformation” or ”new life”, we often think of a huge change in one’s life, in conversion. And for some people, it is clearly that! But I’ve always loved Jesus; I’ve always been his disciple. I know this is true for many of you also. Some of us have always been his followers. Sure, my love for Jesus has changed quite a bit from the warmth I felt as a child. Yet, I would say that now as a middle aged adult I love Jesus much deeper than before. So then where does personal transformation and new life fit? As a life-long disciple, I’ve never had to repent, right? Oh, if only it were that simple. No, I need Jesus and the kingdom to transform me every day. Daily, I need the new life Jesus offer. I need to take up my cross every day and follow Jesus. Every day I need to experience Good Friday and Easter.

And the cross is also political. This cross is very political. The way of Jesus involves not just any kind of death, but specifi cally “taking up the cross,” the path of confrontation with domi nation systems and their injustice and violence. Jesus’ passion was the kingdom of God – that is, what life would be like on earth if the Creator were queen, and the rulers and systems of this world were not. It is the world that the prophets dreamed of – a world of distributive justice where everybody has enough, where war and violent power are n
o more, and where nobody need be afraid. It is not simply a political dream, but God’s dream; a dream that can be realized only by our being grounded ever more deeply in the Creator whose heart and being is justice and love. Jesus’ passion got him killed. But God has vindicated Jesus. This is the political mean ing of Good Friday and Easter.

Perhaps we need to be more explicit with those who choose to be baptised. Let’s ask them: “Do you accept Jesus as your personal and political Lord and Saviour?” Laura and David, did you accept Jesus as your personal and political Lord and Saviour? What about the rest of us? To take Jesus seriously is to follow him. To follow him is to partici pate in his passion. And passion is much more than his suffering and death; his passion was God’s love and kingdom. The way of the cross leads to life in God, and participation in the passion of God as known in Jesus, the reign of love, justice and peace.

I close with a story. Gerald and Priscilla are friends of Doug Johnson Hatlem in his ministry as MCC/Lazarus Rising street pastor. Arriving on the streets over a decade ago, Priscilla was a tall, slender “Ojibway Princess”. Charming and flirtatious, she soon became the meanest woman street fighter in Toronto. She terrorized the other women, and many men as well. She became so immersed in the alcohol, drugs, and violence of street life, that even bearing children while homeless and immediately having them taken away seemed to have no effect on her.

Gerald is Cree. Tall, broad shouldered, with a wide pleasant face. Gentle and soft-spoken when sober, he became a vicious thug when drunk. Eventually rage permeated his being, and the street community steered very clear of him. The nurses at Sanctuary’s health clinic began to notice that people were regularly showing up there bearing wounds and bruises inflicted by either Priscilla or Gerald.

Then they hooked up together, and you could almost feel the street community shutter. Like a homeless Bonnie and Clyde, they robbed and plummeted other homeless folks with an escalating brutality and randomness. And when they couldn’t find someone else to beat up, they’d whale away on each other.

Then about two years ago, California, a friend of theirs and Doug’s, was brutally murdered at Yonge and Bloor. In the midst of the street community’s chaotic grieving, a couple days later, Gerald and Priscilla burst into a media interview at Sanctuary and pleaded: “You’ve got to get us out of here. You’ve got to get us out of here now!” They were adamant and very edgy. Priscilla was also 4 ½ months pregnant.

Sanctuary staff immediately started to help them explore possible options, and began a flurry of conversations and phone calls that lasted two days. The first night things started to unravel as the half-drunk couple became argumentative and distrustful. But the next day it was arranged. They would go north to Sudbury where Gerald’s uncle would help them settle and give Gerald a job as long as he stayed sober. And Sanctuary nurses found an aboriginal addictions agency that ran a program for pregnant women and gave the phone number to Priscilla.

The next morning, Doug picked them up to take them to the bus station. On the way, Johanna, then 3 years old, drew a picture for them and gave it to Priscilla as she boarded the bus. And thus Gerald and Priscilla embarked on an unimaginable transition that was fraught with huge obstacles. After ten years on the street, would they be able to overcome their anger, fears, violent patterns and addictions in order to begin a new life? Could their friend California’s murder trigger such rebirth? Everything pointed against that possibility.

Numerous months later, Doug and Jodie with Johanna and Simeon, visited Gerald and Priscilla in their modest Sudbury apartment. Priscilla was sterilizing baby bottles, making sure that they boiled properly. Gerald was holding his baby boy – tender, smitten, beaming. And on the refrigerator door was Johanna’s drawing. Today, soon to be two years later, they have added a second child to their family. Doug reports that they are doing “just terrific.”

New life and rebirth from murder. Death and resurrection. Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

As Jesus’ followers, we are Kingdom builders. We continually are transformed and are transformers. New life! This joy-filled morning we declare that the stones have been rolled away, that death could not contain Jesus. Fear and hate are banished, empires are defied, enemies are loved, new life comes most unexpectedly. The world has changed! Facing Good Friday as his followers, we continually kick at the darkness til it bleeds daylight. That’s Easter!

Looking for Jesus? Go back to Galilee, to the beginning. Join the Kingdom movement. Be transformed into new life. Be transformers of new life. Jesus is here! He is alive!!