Idle Tales – sermon on Easter Sunday, 4/21/19
Luke 23:50-24 Now there was a good and righteous man named Joseph, who, though a member of the council, had not agreed to their plan and action. He came from the Jewish town of Arimathea, and he was waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God. This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then he took it down, wrapped it in a linen cloth, and laid it in a rock-hewn tomb where no one had ever been laid. It was the day of Preparation, and the sabbath was beginning.
The women who had come with him from Galilee followed, and they saw the tomb and how his body was laid. Then they returned, and prepared spices and ointments. On the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment. But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared.
They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.” Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.
Sermon: Idle Tales
An idle tale, they called it. These faithful women, at least five of them, had set out early in the morning after the Sabbath, bringing what they needed to give honor to the body of their friend, teacher, Lord after it had been hurriedly entombed before the start of the Sabbath. And they had this amazing encounter with two men – not ordinary men, but beings that shimmered somehow – other-worldly beings. They had just appeared in this empty tomb. There had been no body to anoint. Confusion set in, probably upset. After all, the stone had been rolled away – someone had possibly stolen the body! And then the shimmering appeared, and there they were, these beings. Now there was confusion and fear and awe and wonder. The beings asked sort of a scolding question – why would you look for a living Lord in a tomb? Of course he is not here. The beings reminded them, the women, of the teachings they, the women, had received from Jesus about his being handed over, crucified and then rising again. These women themselves had seen the first two parts of these teachings unfold before their very eyes. Why would they not assume that the last part would unfold as well? The women came to their senses, remembering, and left to remind the others, to assure the others, the men, that this third teaching had come to pass as well. And the men dismissed what they were saying as idle tales.
I tell you stories like this can get my feminist ire up. All four of the gospels have women being the first to receive the news that Jesus was risen. And in three of them, the men are skeptical (in Mark the women don’t even bother telling the news). Now maybe the skepticism is not because of the gender of the one telling the tale, but the tale itself is so hard to believe. After all, Thomas doubted all the male disciples as well. But these stories tap into another story I like to tell myself sometimes, and others too. It taps into my attachment to a story about victimization. And that is not the story that Jesus wants us to tell.
Those of you who have been here the past few weeks heard the tale of Cory and the Seventh Story. The authors, Brian McLaren and Gareth Higgins use this fable to outline six stories that have captivated humankind through the millenia. As we consider idle tales, I think these are worth outlining, for they have not only captivated us and kept us enthralled, they have kept us enslaved, and I agree with the authors that they are the idle tales that Jesus came to disrupt. The reason they have captivated us is because they seem to offer something important, to address a deep-seated need – a need to make sense of the world, to find meaning, and to establish a sense of safety and belonging. There is nothing wrong with these needs, nor with seeking their fulfillment. But these stories, these six idle tales, do us a disservice because they do not fulfill our needs. They might satisfy some individuals, but one of the untruths of these stories is that we are, at our core, individuals. The truth that Jesus sought to remind us of is that we are truly one. And so if the story we live by works for us but harms others or increases our separation from others, from God, or from Creation, we are in denial about what true fulfillment entails. Jesus taught us to consider the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, which God feeds and clothes. He tells us not to worry about what we will eat or drink or wear, but instead strive for the kindom of God, God who knows what we need and is happy to provide.
The six idle tales tell us otherwise. One of the stories is the domination story, which says that to get our needs met, we must be in charge. We must rule, according to fox and badger, by tooth and claw. Certainly, we can see how this story plays out in the world – more weapon and more powerful weapons, air strikes and threats of air strikes. We see it in communities and even families where people are coerced to behave in certain ways under threat of punishment, whether it be jail time, heavy fines, or a spanking. We might argue that the ends justify the means. We want certain standards of behavior, and we’ll do what we must to get it. We’ll kill killers, we’ll threaten bullies. Sometimes we don’t need threats of violence. We can get to know people’s soft spots and manipulate them that way – by withholding affection, sulking, giving the silent treatment, threatening to expose them. The important thing is to get our way, to dominate.
Jesus saw this story being lived out around him as Rome enforced their peace by crucifying the trouble makers, and he challenged this story. As the Roman war horses entered Jerusalem at the start of Passover, he rode in on the colt of a donkey, showing a way of humbleness and peace. He talked about worldly rulers to his disciples, about how they lord their power over people, but said, “it won’t be like that among us, among you.” What did he say was the mark of a great leader in his kindom? One who serves.
The world gives us another way to deal with the domination story – its called the rebellion story, the story of revolution, the story of revenge. It says we know what to do with those oppressors – we’ll stage a coup, kill enough of them to get our point across, and then rule over them. There were Israelites in Jesus’ time who thought this would be a good story to live by. They wanted to overthrow Rome. Some even attempted it after he died. They were squashed. But even if they had succeeded, what would have been different? Things would have been different for different individuals, but the sum total would be the same – some dominating by tooth and claw, and others being dominated, and suffering.
What did Jesus have to say about this story? Turn the other cheek; if someone takes your coat, give them your shirt as well. He told people to give back to Rome what was Rome’s – pay the tribute coins with Caesar’s image on them – and give back to God what is God’s. It wasn’t about submission. Jesus didn’t encourage people to be doormats, but instead encouraged non-violent resistance. And all of those actions he advised were just that – acts of resistance that called attention to the violence of the oppression, that exposed it for what it was.
When it comes to resisting domination and oppression, even non-violent resistance, we can get misled by the big, public movements – the salt march in India led by Gandhi, the diner sit-ins in the U.S. South in the 1960’s. But non-violent resistance isn’t just a tactic, and certainly not the way Jesus taught and lived it. It is personal work, often interior work that is done when one commits to this as a way of being. We have to wrestle with the urge to beat down our opponent even if it is with our logic, or our perceived moral superiority. It is hard to challenge domination and oppression without doing damage to the ones dominating. But that is what Jesus asks of us as his followers. And we must do the work, catch ourselves, correct ourselves, and remember that we can change the way the world works from within ourselves. We can be the change we want to see, and it will come to be. It means never losing sight of the humanity of the people we would challenge. Jesus refused to hate even those who betrayed, tormented and nailed him to a cross. Father, forgive them, he said. Enough of this, he said, when one of his followers pulled out a sword in the garden of Gethsemane.
Other stories offered by this world are those of isolation or purification – finding scapegoats for the problems of the world and either getting rid of them, keeping them out, or withdrawing from this messy, impure world to a utopian community. Jesus saw this going on around him, and what did he do? He reached out to those on the margins, he ate with sinners and tax collectors, with fallen women. He even helped the Roman centurion, calling him a man of great faith. He loved and blessed and healed no matter the nationality, gender or religion of those he encountered. He even left the utopia of Oneness with God to come walk and live among us.
Then there’s the story of accumulation – a sense of security from getting more – living in a state of fear of want, or the belief that every desire must be satisfied for true happiness and well-being. Jesus talked most about the kindom of heaven, but his 2nd favorite topic was money and wealth. He said not to store up treasure on earth where it can rot or be stolen, but store up treasure in heaven. He told stories against the wealthy, pointed out the relative value of the widow’s mites in contrast to showy giving from abundance. He and his disciples shared what they had, and the early church did likewise – held all things in common, for the common good. The treasure we store up in heaven comes through sharing. And sometimes the poor know how to share better than the rich. Sometimes people have so much that they don’t believe they need anything, so don’t have a sense of the divine economy, of gifts flowing, coming in and going out continually. The poor sometimes are more in tune with the flow, knowing that sometimes they have something to give, and sometimes they will be in need, and someone will give to them. I wonder if the idea of self-sufficiency is another idle tale – one of separateness. And yet Jesus didn’t demonize people just because they were wealthy. He dined with chief priests and Pharisees. Some of his followers and supporters shared their wealth. Today’s reading starts with the wealthy and powerful Joseph of Arimethea using his clout and connections and resources to bury Jesus. Some wealthy person had taken great risks to provide the many followers of Jesus to stay at their home in Jerusalem.
Finally, there’s the worldly story of victimization. Life is so unfair. In this story, the suffering becomes the most important thing. Bad stuff has happened, and the focus stays on the bad stuff and those doing the bad stuff. Sometimes it turns into the rebellion or revenge story, but too often the revenge gets turned inward. People who have been harmed do more self-harm, sometimes using substances or behaviors to numb themselves to the pain, sometimes getting so caught up in blame that they can’t take responsibility for anything in their lives. What was Jesus’ response to the victim story? You might remember that often when he healed people, he said something like, your faith has made you well. He wasn’t about calling attention to his own power, or even to God’s power, but to the power within them to change things. He said to his followers, greater things than this you will do. Think about his resurrecting Lazarus – he called Lazarus out, but Lazarus had to respond, and then the community gathered unbound him.
And think about the victimization Jesus himself suffered. All the gospels tell us about that, movies have depicted his suffering. It is awful to think about. But when he came back he did not dwell on it. He didn’t tell and retell the stories of his suffering. He breathed peace on those gathered in fear. He told them that what they loosed on earth would be loosed in heaven. He broke bread with the dejected disciples on the road to Emmaus, and opened their mind to the scriptures. He told them he would send an advocate, that he would be with them always. He told them to feed his sheep. After enduring terrible suffering, he doubled down on his story, the story of love, the story of mercy and redemption and liberation.
Now as you were listening to this sermon, you probably thought of various people who live by certain worldly stories. I know I did as I was writing this sermon. But Jesus didn’t give us his story so we could do more of this us versus them business. Jesus’ story of love and mercy, redemption and liberation keeps asking us to remember that we are one, that there is not separation. In order to start to be the change we want to see, we have to see where we miss the mark. We must ask, what story am I living in? What story is the church living in? As I said earlier, I have a particular attachment to the victimization story. Sometimes I am the victim – as a woman, for example; and sometimes I make the suffering of others the most important thing about them. I also am deeply invested in the accumulation story. I even engaged in some retail therapy this week with my 30% off coupon at Kohls. I can easily avoid thinking about what price others might be paying so I can have cheap goods, until I encounter Jesus. Where does Jesus encounter you with his good news, his beautiful story that will disrupt so much that you hold dear? These six stories, they are worse than idle tales. They are lies. Love is what is true. Only love.
The other-worldly beings tell the women to remember what Jesus taught them. I echo their words. Remember what Jesus has taught you. Remember his promises of salvation. And let your curiosity grow, as Peter’s did. He grew curious about this idle tale of the women, and goes and looks for himself and walks away amazed. Let your curiosity spur you to try living out some of this story of love. May our amazement grow as we consider that people tried to kill the story of love, but it would not stay dead. It never will.
