“Looking for Life on Earth”
First Congregational Church – Wauwatosa, Wisconsin
Easter Sunday – April 12, 2009
Rev. Steven A. Peay, Ph.D.
[texts: Acts 10:34-43/John 20:1-18]
To whom can I speak today?
The iniquity that strikes the land
It has no end
To whom can I speak today?
There are no righteous men
The earth is surrendered to criminals.
Last year the DOW plunged 40%. Most of us, and I include myself in that ‘most,’ don’t even bother to look at the quarterly or annual reports of our retirement funds for fear of depression. We’re seeing unemployment figures higher than they’ve been since the Great Depression. Foreclosures and homelessness are up. Income is down. Pirates roam the high seas again and we’re still battling terrorism. Sunday school teachers kill little girls. I suppose it’s true – to whom can I speak today, the earth is, indeed, surrendered to criminals? Those words seem to accurately describe the situation of life on earth not quite a decade into the twenty-first century, don’t they?
There’s just one important point missing – those words are taken from hieroglyphics found in an Egyptian tomb and were written around the year 2000 BC. It seems that we’ve suffered from what the writer Arthur Herman in the latest issue of The Wilson Quarterly calls “the pessimist persuasion” for a long, long time. We may go searching for life here on earth and even on other planets, but we end up like the seeker in the popular song who is looking for love in all the wrong places. We look for life in all the wrong places, too. Our search for life here on earth is a search for relationship, a search for belonging, a search for someone who knows us well-enough to call us by name.
Several years ago I had the occasion to travel to England for a meeting. My plane arrived late at night in London and I got off feeling rather alone. A colleague said she would arrange for me to have a place to stay, but other than that assurance, I was a stranger in a strange land and feeling it.
I walked through customs and past people greeting friends and relatives, wondering how I would find my contact person. Lost in my thoughts of “what will I do and where will I sleep,” I was startled into consciousness by hearing my name called: “Dr. Peay. . . Dr. Steven Peay!” I turned and was greeted by a gentleman holding, of all things, a picture of me. (And a not-too-flattering one at that!) He was my contact and he and his family offered me gracious hospitality – I was no longer a stranger.
Oh, I suppose it’s a stretch to compare my arrival at Heathrow Airport with Mary Magdalene at the tomb. However, as I read the Gospel again I couldn’t get away from how wonderful it was to be called by name by a stranger. It is at once jarring and very comforting. Had Robert not called me by name, because now I know his name as he knows mine, I would never have known who he was, nor would I have the friend that I have to this day. Had Mary not heard her name called by Jesus she would have never known that He was the One she was seeking.
Mary Magdalene was lost in her grief to begin with and now there’s no body to mourn over, no body to honor with the ointments and spices. She had come to the tomb, found it open and the body gone. Immediately she went to Peter and John with the news. “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” All of Jesus’ teaching about how he would suffer, die, and then rise again didn’t even enter her mind. She had lost her teacher, her friend, the one who loved her when no one else would, and now someone had robbed the grave. It was more than one could take.
So she followed Peter and John back to the tomb – I wonder if she tried to run along with them? They each entered and came to believe that the Lord had indeed risen from the dead, though they hadn’t yet caught the full meaning of what had happened. Mary, however, lingered outside and continued to linger even after Peter and John had hurried off. Eventually she came back to the tomb and peered in, only to discover two strangers sitting in the tomb.
John’s Gospel tells us that they were ‘angels,’ messengers, but Mary wasn’t amazed at these white-robed strangers. When they asked her why she was weeping, she told them what she had told the disciples. This time, however, it wasn’t “we,” but “I don’t know where they have laid him.” Her grief and disappointment were still so great that she couldn’t comprehend the empty tomb. She was so caught up in herself, that she couldn’t see the wonder of what was happening all around her.
Still lost in her grief, she turned and saw yet another stranger. The Gospel tells us that she assumed he was the gardener and, by her question to him, she thought he might know where Jesus’ body had been taken. Then it happened, the mysterious stranger spoke her name: “Mary.” Here Jesus fulfils the word he had spoken earlier in John chapter ten. There he had said, “I am the Good Shepherd, I know mine and mine know me … the sheep follow him, for they know his voice.” Mary heard the voice and responded, “Master,” thinking that it was the same as it always had. It wasn’t, and as Jesus talked with her she understood more and more that she was truly in the presence of the Risen One.
You see, each year we celebrate Easter and it’s a great festival for the church, the family, and the candy makers. We are all reassured with the news of the Risen Lord and the empty tomb, but does it make a difference when we go through the doors of the church and back to the everyday tasks that face all of us? For many of us I don’t think it does since, like Mary Magdalene, we keep looking for something other than what is really there, we go looking for life everywhere but where it is to be found. We can’t recognize Jesus because we’re looking for a ‘dead’ Christ, a Christ of history, or a Christ of principle. What he taught and did touches and moves us, so we look for him, but he isn’t here. However, it isn’t this Jesus of History who waits to meet us, but the Risen Christ, the Living Christ. He waits outside the tombs of our self-absorption and self-centeredness ready to walk with us and ready to love us into freedom through every day of our lives.
Just so you know, ministers and theologians have to come to realize this as well. I am humbled and inspired every time I think of R. W. Dale, the brilliant nineteenth century British Congregational theologian, minister, and first principal of Mansfield College, Oxford. Late in his career as he was preparing an Easter sermon,
. . .the thought of the risen Lord broke in upon him as it had never done before. “Christ is alive,” I said to myself; “alive” and then I paused; -- “alive!” and then I paused again; “alive!” Can that really be true? Living as really as I myself am? I got up and walked about repeating “Christ is living!” “Christ is living!”. . . It was to me a new discovery. I thought that all along I had believed it; but not until that moment did I feel sure about it. I then said, “My people shall know it; I shall preach about it again and again until they believe it as I do now.” . . .Then began the custom of singing in Carr’s Lane every Sunday Morning an Easter hymn.
[A. W. W. Dale Life of R.W.Dale, p. 642]
Christ is Risen! He is Risen Indeed! Alleluia! Amen!