Practicing Resurrection
The Rev. Amy Morehous
April 15, 2012
April 15, 2012
Easter 2, Year B
What are the best parts of Easter Sunday for you? Perhaps it’s the flowers. Maybe it’s the Easter acclamation - when Fr. Howard says, “Alleluia! The Lord is risen!”, and we respond, “The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!” Perhaps it’s the music - the celebratory brass section, the best efforts of our very good choir, the ‘Hallelujah’ chorus at the end. There are so many things about that day that make it like no other.
Well, I don’t know about you, but I noticed a distinct lack of all those things when I got home on Sunday. When I walked in the door, there was no glorious choir to welcome me, (although my cats did do their best, after missing me for most of the week). As I spent the past week washing all the accumulated dirty laundry, there was no celebratory brass section to greet me in the laundry room. I received no flowers whatsoever for producing dinner on a regular basis. And when I cleaned off my desk, Jim Garvey did not play a celebratory ‘Toccata’ for the occasion.
We walked through Lent with Christ, we moved through Holy Week with inexorably steady steps, and we celebrated a festive resurrection day, when Christ returned from the dead. If you were here, it was a truly glorious day, full of all of the things that we do so joyfully here. But sometimes it’s much harder to spy the resurrected Christ in our everyday lives, without all the Easter dressing.
What are the best parts of Easter Sunday for you? Perhaps it’s the flowers. Maybe it’s the Easter acclamation - when Fr. Howard says, “Alleluia! The Lord is risen!”, and we respond, “The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!” Perhaps it’s the music - the celebratory brass section, the best efforts of our very good choir, the ‘Hallelujah’ chorus at the end. There are so many things about that day that make it like no other.
Well, I don’t know about you, but I noticed a distinct lack of all those things when I got home on Sunday. When I walked in the door, there was no glorious choir to welcome me, (although my cats did do their best, after missing me for most of the week). As I spent the past week washing all the accumulated dirty laundry, there was no celebratory brass section to greet me in the laundry room. I received no flowers whatsoever for producing dinner on a regular basis. And when I cleaned off my desk, Jim Garvey did not play a celebratory ‘Toccata’ for the occasion.
We walked through Lent with Christ, we moved through Holy Week with inexorably steady steps, and we celebrated a festive resurrection day, when Christ returned from the dead. If you were here, it was a truly glorious day, full of all of the things that we do so joyfully here. But sometimes it’s much harder to spy the resurrected Christ in our everyday lives, without all the Easter dressing.
After spending so much time walking closely with Christ last week, I’d like to tell you that I am a transformed person, full of new life, and new hope. Instead, I’m a bit disappointed to report that I went home, and promptly fell right back into regular life, just as I left it, just as if the resurrection hadn’t happened, just as if something miraculous hadn’t taken place. After all, who has time for resurrection on a regular basis when there are still people to be fed, and clothes to be washed, and work to be done?
That’s one of the reasons I’m extremely thankful that we get this gospel reading from John every year at this time. When we find the disciples, they too have returned to their pre-resurrection lives. They are huddled together in fear, locked behind barred doors, in hopes that they will not be suspected of anything. All they know for sure from Peter and another disciple is that Jesus is missing from his tomb, and his grave wrappings have been left behind. They are petrified. At best they will be shunned by their neighbors, who will remember their part in the past week’s events. At worst, they will be blamed for Jesus’ disappearance, and will themselves be in danger of being killed. Sure, Mary has come to tell them that she has seen the risen Lord - a Lord who came to her, spoke gently to her, and called her by name. But if this is true --- how are they to feel? After all, these are the same disciples who deserted Jesus in his hour of need, who ran and hid when he was arrested, who denied him in fear of their lives. Why should they be anything but frightened of what the future held?
But Jesus appears to them, and speaks words of peace, and forgiveness. “Peace be with you.” He shows them his wounds, his hands and his side. Just as we did last Easter Sunday, the disciples rejoice with great feeling at Jesus’ return. He who had been lost is returned to them! In the midst of the great celebration, Jesus bids them peace again, and then gives them specific instructions: “As the Father sent me, so I send you.” Here, he even gifts them with the Holy Spirit, and reminds them of their special gift for forgiveness and reconciliation.
The disciples are so thankful for Jesus’ restoration to them, so happy to meet the resurrected Lord, so overcome with joy that they immediately rush out and do just as Jesus instructed.
Wait...that’s not actually what happens. Not that we read here, anyway.
A week passes, and Jesus returns to speak to the disciples, and to poor Thomas, who missed the first party. When Jesus appears, he finds them all together...again...still behind locked doors. But Jesus Christ cannot be kept out with locked doors, or fearful hearts. He sent the disciples forth to be a resurrection people, to bring forgiveness to a world in need. But they find it hard to live into those new lives...to be Easter people. The disciples need second chances - they need practice living into fearless resurrection lives...just as we all do.
There’s a reason we celebrate Eastertide for a full 50 days. Because this resurrection life we are called to takes some practicing - takes some living into. Knowing myself, I have a feeling I’ll be working into it all of my days.
But notice that Jesus does not appear angry on finding the disciples again together, hidden behind closed doors. He doesn’t ask for an accounting of their time, or rebuke them for not being about his business. He offers them peace, and understanding. In the face of Thomas’ doubts, he doesn’t greet him with shame or anger. Instead, he offers to Thomas a chance to learn, and to understand, and to change. He offers Thomas a chance to do just as he said he wanted - he offers him proof in the face of his doubt. But Thomas does not, in fact, put his hands in Jesus’ wounds as he said he must do. Given the opportunity that most doubters have wished for throughout the centuries, Thomas doesn’t do it. Instead, he acclaims Christ before all the disciples. In awe and amazement at how he is truly known by Christ, he says “My Lord and My God!”
Jesus Christ offers Thomas, as he offers us, a chance to turn and be new people. To be resurrection people, people who really struggle to live into our new lives in Christ. Christ does not promise that road will be easy or simple. Jesus Christ knew then and knows now that we are people who will wrestle with our fears...people who will fall into that fear from time to time … people who will fail.
What kind of fear holds us in its grip these days? We probably aren’t afraid we’ll be imprisoned or killed, as the disciples were, but we can come up with plenty of other things to be fearful about. Listen to the news. Listen to what passes for political discourse. You can even hear it in discussions in and about the Episcopal Church. It is easy, at times, to find conversations dominated by fear. When our fear festers, it turns to anger. Anger at the world. Anger at ourselves. Anger at our neighbor. Anger at God.
What are we afraid of, on this post-resurrection Sunday? What is holding us back from the life Christ calls us to live - a life dominated by love, and not by fear? A life of baptism, and inclusion, and reconciliation. What’s changed for us...in our lives...in our hearts … since Christ rose from the dead? Are we leaving this place, and going forth to be Christ’s people in the world, to offer hope and forgiveness in world in need of both? Or are we all still trapped in that locked upper room, paralyzed by our fear, waiting for something more?
We are not here to crowd together in fear of the world outside. We’re here to encounter the risen Christ - in each other. In the liturgy and prayers and the Eucharist. We’re not passing through this life to be subsumed by the ordinary, or to be buried by the minutia of daily life, as hard as that is to resist. We are not here to live in fear, but in love - Christ’s love, that perfect love that casts out fear.
Wherever we find ourselves this week, whatever we’re doing - the resurrected Christ goes before us, and will meet us wherever we are. Sure, there won’t be flowers, or choirs, or bells. But as we practice being a resurrection people, the risen Christ will be there. Where will you see him this week? Will you find him in a colleague at work who needs a listening ear? In the friend who listens to you? In a child whose tears need drying? Or in the person who hands you a tissue when you need it? In a stranger who strikes up a conversation in the grocery store?
Where in our lives can we find the risen Lord? Everywhere - everywhere we find ourselves keeping company with God’s people. We are a free people, a baptism people, an Easter people, free to cast out fear, and take Christ’s message of love and forgiveness and reconciliation to a world that hungers and thirsts for both.
Christ calls us to move beyond these doors, to live into our renewed baptismal lives in him. To live lives free from the shackles of fear. This Eastertide, may we all move toward being the resurrection people we are called to be. This Easter, and all those to come.
Amen.
That’s one of the reasons I’m extremely thankful that we get this gospel reading from John every year at this time. When we find the disciples, they too have returned to their pre-resurrection lives. They are huddled together in fear, locked behind barred doors, in hopes that they will not be suspected of anything. All they know for sure from Peter and another disciple is that Jesus is missing from his tomb, and his grave wrappings have been left behind. They are petrified. At best they will be shunned by their neighbors, who will remember their part in the past week’s events. At worst, they will be blamed for Jesus’ disappearance, and will themselves be in danger of being killed. Sure, Mary has come to tell them that she has seen the risen Lord - a Lord who came to her, spoke gently to her, and called her by name. But if this is true --- how are they to feel? After all, these are the same disciples who deserted Jesus in his hour of need, who ran and hid when he was arrested, who denied him in fear of their lives. Why should they be anything but frightened of what the future held?
But Jesus appears to them, and speaks words of peace, and forgiveness. “Peace be with you.” He shows them his wounds, his hands and his side. Just as we did last Easter Sunday, the disciples rejoice with great feeling at Jesus’ return. He who had been lost is returned to them! In the midst of the great celebration, Jesus bids them peace again, and then gives them specific instructions: “As the Father sent me, so I send you.” Here, he even gifts them with the Holy Spirit, and reminds them of their special gift for forgiveness and reconciliation.
The disciples are so thankful for Jesus’ restoration to them, so happy to meet the resurrected Lord, so overcome with joy that they immediately rush out and do just as Jesus instructed.
Wait...that’s not actually what happens. Not that we read here, anyway.
A week passes, and Jesus returns to speak to the disciples, and to poor Thomas, who missed the first party. When Jesus appears, he finds them all together...again...still behind locked doors. But Jesus Christ cannot be kept out with locked doors, or fearful hearts. He sent the disciples forth to be a resurrection people, to bring forgiveness to a world in need. But they find it hard to live into those new lives...to be Easter people. The disciples need second chances - they need practice living into fearless resurrection lives...just as we all do.
There’s a reason we celebrate Eastertide for a full 50 days. Because this resurrection life we are called to takes some practicing - takes some living into. Knowing myself, I have a feeling I’ll be working into it all of my days.
But notice that Jesus does not appear angry on finding the disciples again together, hidden behind closed doors. He doesn’t ask for an accounting of their time, or rebuke them for not being about his business. He offers them peace, and understanding. In the face of Thomas’ doubts, he doesn’t greet him with shame or anger. Instead, he offers to Thomas a chance to learn, and to understand, and to change. He offers Thomas a chance to do just as he said he wanted - he offers him proof in the face of his doubt. But Thomas does not, in fact, put his hands in Jesus’ wounds as he said he must do. Given the opportunity that most doubters have wished for throughout the centuries, Thomas doesn’t do it. Instead, he acclaims Christ before all the disciples. In awe and amazement at how he is truly known by Christ, he says “My Lord and My God!”
Jesus Christ offers Thomas, as he offers us, a chance to turn and be new people. To be resurrection people, people who really struggle to live into our new lives in Christ. Christ does not promise that road will be easy or simple. Jesus Christ knew then and knows now that we are people who will wrestle with our fears...people who will fall into that fear from time to time … people who will fail.
What kind of fear holds us in its grip these days? We probably aren’t afraid we’ll be imprisoned or killed, as the disciples were, but we can come up with plenty of other things to be fearful about. Listen to the news. Listen to what passes for political discourse. You can even hear it in discussions in and about the Episcopal Church. It is easy, at times, to find conversations dominated by fear. When our fear festers, it turns to anger. Anger at the world. Anger at ourselves. Anger at our neighbor. Anger at God.
What are we afraid of, on this post-resurrection Sunday? What is holding us back from the life Christ calls us to live - a life dominated by love, and not by fear? A life of baptism, and inclusion, and reconciliation. What’s changed for us...in our lives...in our hearts … since Christ rose from the dead? Are we leaving this place, and going forth to be Christ’s people in the world, to offer hope and forgiveness in world in need of both? Or are we all still trapped in that locked upper room, paralyzed by our fear, waiting for something more?
We are not here to crowd together in fear of the world outside. We’re here to encounter the risen Christ - in each other. In the liturgy and prayers and the Eucharist. We’re not passing through this life to be subsumed by the ordinary, or to be buried by the minutia of daily life, as hard as that is to resist. We are not here to live in fear, but in love - Christ’s love, that perfect love that casts out fear.
Wherever we find ourselves this week, whatever we’re doing - the resurrected Christ goes before us, and will meet us wherever we are. Sure, there won’t be flowers, or choirs, or bells. But as we practice being a resurrection people, the risen Christ will be there. Where will you see him this week? Will you find him in a colleague at work who needs a listening ear? In the friend who listens to you? In a child whose tears need drying? Or in the person who hands you a tissue when you need it? In a stranger who strikes up a conversation in the grocery store?
Where in our lives can we find the risen Lord? Everywhere - everywhere we find ourselves keeping company with God’s people. We are a free people, a baptism people, an Easter people, free to cast out fear, and take Christ’s message of love and forgiveness and reconciliation to a world that hungers and thirsts for both.
Christ calls us to move beyond these doors, to live into our renewed baptismal lives in him. To live lives free from the shackles of fear. This Eastertide, may we all move toward being the resurrection people we are called to be. This Easter, and all those to come.
Alleluia! The Lord is risen!
The Lord is Risen indeed! Alleluia!
Amen.
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