March 31, 2002
Mathew 28: 1-10
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“RESURRECTION, HERE!  NOW!”

Contrary to what many may think, the celebration days of Christmas and Easter are the hardest days for preaching.  What does one say to people who have heard it all before?  How does a preacher rescue the birth and resurrection stories from just-historical happenings to contemporary realities?  I think William Willimon got it right when he said, "Preaching is not so much didactic, that is, 'explaining something' as it 'testifying to something.'  It is struggling to describe an event that has happened, and is happening and trying to do it with words."

It is precisely for this reason, that I think the great power of both Christmas and Easter is the music.  Words tend to make people accept them at face value when they may have other very profound aspects to them.  Music puts forth the words with emotion, and it is the emotion that we remember more than the words. 

I suspect, and I certainly hope that for most of you who are here, the resurrection is a reality.  To be sure, we may argue about how it happened: was it bodily or spiritual?  As far as I am concerned that is not important.  What IS important is that today, March 31, 2002, we believe that Jesus is alive and here in our midst.  I don’t understand that facet of my belief.  You probably don’t either, but I do believe he is here and that we are more likely to meet him here than in any other place in our lives.

We are not here to present some glossed- over public image of what our life is like.  God knows what we are.  God knows the frustrations, anxieties, doubts and temptations that we face.  That is the beauty of our faith.

That great theologian Yogi Berra once said, “When you come to the fork in a road, take it.”  The writers of the Apostles' creed got it right when they said, ‘He descended into hell’.  That does not mean that Christ went to a real place where people are tormented for past transgressions; it means he meets us right here where we live. 

Some of you this very morning are living in torment.  The lives you are living and the problems you are facing are truly "Hell;" yet that is where Christ meets you, and in the midst of your hell, he says to you, "You are important; I love you!"

That is resurrection!

Some of you have traveled a less-than- fulfilling road, and suddenly, you have found meaning and purpose -- and what was troubling and stressful now is lost in the joy of new associations and a new sense of fulfillment.

That is resurrection.

Some of you have gone through the hell of breaking up a close relationship or struggling with someone in whom you had placed a great deal of your hope.  Life was a downer, but now, there is someone else or you have gone beyond the old differences, and life, again, has hope, and you are basking in the love and care and freedom of someone who loves you for what you are.  

That is resurrection.

Some of you are struggling still with the loss through death of one in whom a large portion of your life and existence was identified.  It’s been tough, and still, you are lonely, but slowly new interests and new people are filling the void -- and again, be it ever so slow, life is fulfilling and purposeful.

That is resurrection.

In 1998, my wife Chris and I went to India to visit our Congregational Church in that country.  It might surprise you to know that in the State of Tamil Nadu, right down at the tip of India, near Sri Lanka, we have 54 Congregational Churches.

The superintendent of the Association there is Kenaz Solomon who was brought to the United States to get his advanced theological degree by Neil Swanson former minister of this Church.  One Sunday morning, Kenaz took Chris and me to a small Church of outcast Indian people.  It was right in the middle of a huge rubber plantation, where many of the members worked on their day jobs.  When you work you are paid, each day.  No work?  No pay.

The people sang songs that day, at top volume and they were accompanied by a teenager on some kind of a stringed instrument, by an older man on a small drum, and by a very old blind man playing the flute.  We sat there, in our bare feet (you take your shoes off when you go into their house of worship), feeling guilty over the gifts they had given us: coconuts cut- open to drink the liquid, flowers draped like leis around our necks, about three garlands each, a lovely scarf or table runner beautifully woven of gorgeous material, some copper candelabras and a pouring pitcher.

After a lot of singing and some words we did not understand, the pastor called for the offering.  These people did not have money, yet he called for an offering.  Up they came. Some put a bunch of bananas on the chancel, some came with potatoes, and another came with a bag of tapioca.  One lady put down two green coconuts; another, some sweet potatoes, and then, one little wrinkled old lady came forward and placed one egg on the floor.

The Pastor prayed a prayer, and then, the people rose again and came back to the chancel and took away something they had not brought, and Chris and I saw a girl come forward, carrying a little baby, and she took the egg for her child.

They were happy people.  They laughed.  They stared at us because they had seen very few people as tall as we were and when we went into the audience, the love, the touching, the smiles:

Resurrection!

In the midst of their meager lives, they had met the Lord and they were satisfied.

Chris and I vowed right there: "We will support that work.  We will try to get others to give to that work."  Every penny that is sent there, goes to those Churches, to the sewing school, and to the Congregational Medical Clinic.  That little Church of outcast Indian people, mostly women and children receives hope, assistance and learning from a Pastor who is there because Congregational Christian people and Churches in the United States pay him a salary of $1300, per year.

When we retire, we will go back to India -- back to Nagercoil -- because, in the midst of all of our griping and arguing over taxes, over which superb school will our kids go to, for college; over "Is our house big enough?" and "Can we afford to support this benevolence?" -- we need to witness resurrection.

We struggle with, "Can we afford to buy this summer home up North or this winter retreat in Florida?"  They struggle with, "What are we going to eat tonight?"  They trust for everything, and with all we have, we were among them, and they taught us; they inspired us.

That’s resurrection -- and that is why I will give to the next Benevolence Drive on Mother’s Day, to support our youth going to Alaska.  Let’s be honest, whatever they build for that camp really isn’t going to be too much; it may even require some contractors to come in and correct errors, but what it does for those teenagers???  Wow!  It can be a resurrection in their lives.  How do you put a price tag on that?

They killed Jesus and in his dying he said, “Father forgive them."  In the depths of despair and pain he turned to John and said, "Take care of my Mother."  When the criminal who was hanging there with him said, “Remember me when you come into your kingdom” and Jesus replied,” Today, you will be with me in Paradise,” and he died.

They took him to a tomb that belonged to Joseph of Aramathaea and they laid him there and placed a stone in front of the small entrance, so that the animals could not get in, and everyone was gone.  It was over!  His closest followers were devastated, upset.  Had they been wrong in following this one?

On Sunday, they came to anoint the body.  We’re not even sure who came.  Matthew says Mary Magdelene and the other Mary.  Mark says, Mary Magdelene, Mary (the Mother of James), and Salome.  Luke says, Mary Magdelene, Johanna, Mary (the Mother of James), and the other woman.  John says, Mary Magdelene.

Who cares?  Whoever it was found the grave empty.  They ran as fast as they could, to tell the disciples, because they surely never expected anything like this.  And they came running to see the tomb, dumbstruck that it was empty, concerned that someone might have stolen the body.

What happened?  I don’t know!  All I know is from that day forward, the lives of those who knew him best were changed.  Whoever the personages were who were at the tomb, said those who came, "He is not here.  He is risen."

50 days later, the cowardly disciples were alive and on fire.  "Jesus is alive!" they said, "God raised him up!" and even the threat of imprisonment and death could not squelch their conviction and their enthusiasm.  That’s why the Church grew and it grew, with the conviction that Christ was risen and alive -- and Lord of the Church.

But this is 2002 and Arthur Gordon in his book, A Touch of wonder says,

“One of the most insidious maladies of our time is the tendency in most of us to observe rather than act, avoid rather than participate, not do rather than do; the tendency to give in to the sly, negative, cautionary voices that constantly counsel us to be careful, to be controlled, to be wary and prudent and hesitant and guarded in our approach of this complicated thing called living.”

We need to grasp the truth of the resurrection.

Death could not hold him and neither can your deaths.  Bored, weary, struggling in the midst of a job that saps your energy and gives you few rewards - accept the reality of the resurrection.  He’s alive, and you can be, also.

The Church's problem is that too many people are walking dead people.  There is no joy, no laughter, no spontaneity.  Too many are all consumed about how they should be, how they should dress, how others should dress, how they should behave, and how they should speak.  My teacher at McCormick Seminary said, "People are tired of being 'should upon'."

So how does resurrection look here at First Congregational Church this Easter day?  First off, it feels good.  Not too many months ago, this congregation was confused, upset, taking sides and generally idling in neutral.  Now look at it: alive, vibrant, trying new ideas, working with kids and of all things, when the vote for a new minister was announced, people in a business meeting cheered like someone had scored a touchdown ....   

That’s resurrection!

You see: to be a Christian, is not embracing a set of rules.  It is not assuming more work when you’re already stressed out.  It is not "dressing this way" and "giving up certain things."

Being a Christian is accepting a way of life.  It is assuming total responsibility for this local Church and saying, "It dies over my dead body."  It’s saying no to some ways of living and acting and yes to others, both in your community and your home.

Being a Christian is stopping the search for peace of mind; it being brave enough to task a risk -- to launch out in faith, on life, a new marriage, a new career, a new way of seeing life in the face of Him who conquered both life and death.

Being a Christian is not running away from the world; into a private world, it is accepting this crazy world of ours and all of its outrageous demands.  It is accepting conflict and living in doubt.  It is going on the journey even thought you don’t know where you are going -- but you know who leads the way and you like the traveling companions.

Being a Christian is being a little crazy -- overcome with joy.  It’s loving the people with whom you associate and not demanding that they love you back,

Being a Christian is not taking Jesus the Christ, as he was, either in history or in your life; that is "Good Friday religion."  When they came to the tomb, the personage said, "He is not here."

Christ is risen!  Don’t try to explain it.  Accept it, and let him lead you into the very presence of God -- who is not behind us but always in front of us, opening new doors, giving new ideas and beckoning us forward, every step of the way into tomorrow and tomorrow.

May it be so!