“The Moment Everything Changes” Sermon on April 24, 2011
Easter Sunday, April 24, 2011
Scripture Lessons
Jeremiah 31: 1-6 : “At that time,” declares the LORD, “I will be the God of all the families of Israel, and they will be my people.” This is what the LORD says: “The people who survive the sword will find favor in the wilderness; I will come to give rest to Israel.” The LORD appeared to us in the past, saying: “I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness. I will build you up again, and you, Virgin Israel, will be rebuilt. Again you will take up your tamborines and go out to dance with the joyful. Again you will plant vineyards on the hills of Samaria; the farmers will plant them and enjoy their fruit. There will be a day when watchmen cry out on the hills of Ephraim, “Come, let us go up to Zion, to the LORD our God.’”
Matthew 28: 1-10: After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb. There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men.
The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.’ Now I have told you.”
So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them. “Greetings,” he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”
Sermon: The Moment Everything Changes
By: Rev. Doreen Oughton
Have you ever heard of the game “Freeze?” It’s a simple game where children run around and play in whatever way they want, but anytime the person deemed “it” calls out “freeze,” everyone else must freeze just as they are. Whoever moves or stumbles first becomes “it” for the next round. You know, all of us have those moments frozen in time, those things we can recall with such clarity, things that stand out in our minds without fading. Some are collective frozen moments, with people far and wide remembering just where they were and what they were doing when… Going back just in this nation’s recent history – the bombing of Pearl Harbor, the assassination of President Kennedy, the explosion of the space shuttle Challenger, and the attack on the twin towers and Pentagon. Then there are the moments frozen just for us, moments of exhilarating joy or deep grief, moments locked in our memories because of the profound impact they had on our lives.
Can you recall them? Maybe it was that first dance with someone you knew was special. Maybe it was when he proposed, or when she said yes. Maybe it was the look on the doctor’s face. Maybe it was hearing the word “malignancy,” or “there’s been an accident.” Maybe it was when the plus sign showed up on the pregnancy test, or when that beautiful baby was placed in your arms. Maybe for the children it was when they brought that baby brother or sister home, or when your parents told you they were splitting up. Perhaps it was when you learned that your loved one had died. These life and death moments when time seemed to stand still are the greatest, most wonderful and most devastating times of our lives. They are, you might say, defining moments.
These defining moments become part of the narrative of our lives. They are the stories we tell people close to us, people we want to know us and understand us. They can become part of our family lore. I know I tell my children the stories of their birth over and over. I remember my father telling stories of how he met my mother, about how they bought the home we grew up in. Defining moments can connect us with one another as we listen attentively or share with heart these profound experiences.
Today we gather to hear once again about a defining moment in our family of faith. The two Marys of this story have already witness the death of their teacher and friend, the one they’d come to believe would bring salvation to the world. They watched as Joseph of Arimathea tenderly placed his body in the tomb, and rolled a stone into place. Perhaps they watched also as Pilate’s men sealed the tomb and took their spots to guard it. And then they left with heavy, aching hearts, going home to observe the Sabbath. They returned the next day, early in the morning. Why did they go, I wonder? They weren’t going to tend to the body. Joseph had done that and the tomb had been sealed. Were they checking to see if the guards were still there? Were they going to mark the tomb somehow, as people mark the spots along the roadways where an accident took their loved one? Were they going to sit vigil, to pray, to talk to their beloved and be as close as possible, as we do when we go visit the graves of those we’ve buried?
Perhaps they couldn’t have explained why they were going. It was just some inner voice urging them to do so. Perhaps it was the work of the Spirit. Whatever got them there, I’m certain they weren’t expecting what happened. First, the earth shook, then down from the heavens, like a flash of lightening, came an angel, who unsealed the tomb, then sat on the stone. I love this story! The Mary’s and the guards witness the same earth-shaking event, but what different responses. The guards pass out from fear, while the women hang in there. And the angel speaks to them: Do not be afraid. These words are spoken in so many defining moments in scripture. God says it to Abraham and Moses and Joshua. God says it through the prophets to the people of Israel, through Isaiah and Jeremiah. The angel of God says it to Joseph and Mary about Mary’s conception of a child. A host of angels say it to the shepherds in Bethlehem. Do not be afraid. Jesus says it to his disciples, to Simon and Andrew as he calls them to follow him, to those he is teaching who worry about what they will eat and drink, and what they will wear. Do not be afraid. Hang in there.
Perhaps it was the ancient stories of their scripture that strengthened these women to stay put, to stay alert. Perhaps the Roman guards had no such stories of a divine being offering assurance to a person – Do not be afraid. And then the angel speaks the words that change everything: He is not here, for he has been raised, as he said he would be. Come see for yourself. Look into the tomb and see that it is empty. He has been raised. After inviting them to look and see, the angel tells them to go, to carry the message to the others that Jesus is raised and has gone ahead of them.
I love what the passage says about the women’s response to this – they ran off with fear and great joy. I can relate to that. I know that feeling, fear and great joy. It was what I felt when I brought my newborn son home from the hospital for the first time. It was what I felt when I started seminary, and again when I was called to be pastor here at FCC. What moments in your life brought that sense of trembling and awe? Where has something happened that you could scarce believe was true? Where have you been called to step into a bigger role than you thought you could take on, when you became more than what you had ever before thought that you were? It would have been one of those defining moments, wouldn’t it?
So what are we to take from hearing this story of a defining moment for Mary and Mary, a story that tells how their lives changed forever, how they became important messengers for Jesus, keeping his story alive? Of course we are to rejoice with them that Jesus was raised, that he could not be kept in the tomb. Now some may wonder about that. People may wonder whether Christ was really raised, or even what difference it really made even if he was. The world, they may rightly observe, doesn’t look so different after than it did before. There is still suffering and betrayal, still oppressive governments and people paralyzed by fear. People who are paying attention to what is going on around them are bound to wonder, was it a defining moment? Was it really a moment that changed everything?
I can’t answer for everyone, and I don’t know that I’d want to. I think it’s important to ponder such questions, to hold them in your heart and mind, but not with cynicism, not with a judgmental attitude. Ponder them openly, talk to God in your musings, ask your questions with sincerity. There’s another line in today’s gospel passage that speaks to me. The angel tells the women that Jesus has gone ahead of them. Jesus has gone ahead of us, also. Jesus went ahead of us through a time of doubt about whether his sacrifice would make a difference. In the garden of Gethsemane he sought a different way. From the cross he cried about God’s abandonment of him. He has gone ahead of us to all those places. Did angels also come to him and say “Do not be afraid?”
The question still finds resonance at times in my life – when I hear about tragedies, abuse of innocents especially. But I come around pretty quickly to a resounding affirmation that this was indeed a moment that changed everything. This sacrifice of Christ’s and his and resurrection were the way our ideas about God are set straight. Because they had gotten way, way off track by the time Jesus came to live among us. Think back to the story of Creation, of how humans were made in the image of God. They were created to image, to reflect God, to live out God’s will, God’s desires. But things got distorted, as the story of the first temptation tells us. The humans, instead of reflecting and living out God’s desires, took on the tempter’s desires, then each other’s desires and things snowballed from there. It got harder and harder to reconnect with God’s true desires, harder to know God’s will let alone live it out. People started to reverse things, and made a god in their own image. They taught there was a god who was all about ruling by fear, about punishing people, about seeking vengeance. They started to worship a jealous god, a god who demanded ornate temples, blood sacrifices, divisions of people into categories of worthy or unworthy.
Now we can, if we choose, still worship that god, the one made in humankind’s image. There is scripture we can find to justify this. There are passages that will support our human urges for righteous vengeance, for violence, for condemnation, for finding someone to blame and punish. But they are not here in this story, this story so central to the Christian faith. No, in this story we learn from Jesus that God is about mercy and reconciliation, about giving and self-sacrifice. In this story we learn that God is love. God doesn’t just have a will and desire for love, God is love. And love does not force itself on anyone. That is not the nature of love. Love won’t whip this world into shape, won’t force people to obey its will. But it fills the world nonetheless. It is there for us to turn to, to call upon, to reflect out and embody any time we choose. Jesus has gone on ahead of us, living completely in the Source of All that is pure Love. We have the choice to run on and share this good news, as the messengers tell us to do, as our faith stories tell us to do. We don’t have to be frozen, or sealed ina tomb. We can run on, perhaps with fear, but also with great, great joy. May it be so.
