[Propertalk] Easter Day 2011

Fri Apr 22 10:36:22 EDT 2011

Well, I did a quick re-read through the Easter morning sermon, and will, 
no doubt, need to do a little more, but here's what I have.

Happy Day to you all,

Bob

THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH OF ST. ALBAN, ALBANY    THE SUNDAY OF THE 
RESURRECTION: EASTER DAY - A
ACTS 10:34-43				      			      24th APRIL, 2011
COLOSSIANS 3:1-4						              PSALM 118:1-2, 14-24
JOHN 20:1-18

	Sometimes things happen without our even knowing it. We begin to write 
something; we pick up a phone to call someone; we go out the door, 
ostensibly to go grocery shopping – but what we do, whom we see, to whom 
we talk, what we accomplish, may be quite different from our original 
intention, quite unexpected. People refer to that as the work of the 
Spirit – a Force outside of ourselves, gently – or not so gently – 
guiding us through the small as well as the big events of life. And the 
result is that we and those with whom we interact may be blessed 
incredibly. But the journey to that end can range from unsettling to 
incredibly scary.

	I can think of the early morning journey of Mary Magdalene in these 
terms. She was crushed, possibly beyond the ability to cry. Her emotions 
must have been so scrambled she couldn’t have sorted them out if she 
tried. But something made her leave the relative safety and comfort of 
wherever she’d been staying and go to the garden of Jesus’ burial.

	It’s really hard to exaggerate the fear that the disciples experienced. 
They scattered; they hid; they talked, but probably skirted the subject 
of Jesus as much as they could. So Mary’s journey to the tomb is all the 
more incredible. In the midst of her anguish she went further and deeper 
into it.

	Indeed, “it was still dark” when Mary left whatever slight semblance of 
comfort she’d managed to start to build. She moved – out of darkness, 
emulating her God who began creation “out of darkness”.

	That’s one of the themes for this celebration today – as the Psalm puts 
it, “Darkness is not dark to you, O God”. 1

	Mary had no expectations as she left her room. She may not have thought 
it possible to be pulled out of her tremendous grief and depression. She 
may have assumed that nothing could ever come of what she perceived as 
the failure of Jesus’ life, no matter how spectacular some of the 
encounters He’d had. Something within her, however, responded to the 
Spirit’s leading. So there she was.

	And what did she find? – a cave with its seal broken so that the Light 
could flood in. Scattered cloths lying inside, some people talking to 
her, using ordinary words, but not making much sense. It was more than 
she could bear. She broke down all over again. Much as can happen today.

	I remember witnessing something similar. A woman outside a church door, 
standing there, alone, crying, apparently no one to see her – no one 
walking by, no one coming out, no one interested in whatever is going on 
inside her, no one to whom to talk to comfort whatever was churning 
inside her – her attitude talked of emptiness, except for the clothes on 
her back and the handkerchief pressed to her nose and her cheeks.

	Things do that to us. The earthquake followed by the tsunami in Japan. 
There’s still such incredible devastation. If I were there I probably 
wouldn’t know where to start, but possibly going there, seeing the 
wreckage, becoming a part of
what was there, if only for a little while – like simply standing with 
the woman outside that Church door – being there may be all that’s asked 
of us, because that puts us in touch with the pain and opens the door to 
the working of the Spirit, to wrest something good, something precious, 
something godly out of the smashed hopes and dreams.

	A reporter in Tokyo wrote a couple of weeks ago, “The earthquake, whose 
epicenter was more than 200 miles north of here, and the resulting 
nuclear crisis, will change this nation. The open question is how, and 
how much. Will it, along with the bent Tokyo Tower, be a final marker of 
an irreversible decline? Or will it be an opportunity to draw on the 
resilience of a people repeatedly tested by calamity to reshape Japan — 
in the mold of either the left or the right? This disaster, like the 
1923 Tokyo earthquake and the 1995 Kobe earthquake, could well signal a 
new era.” 2

	The empty tomb, the initially misunderstood tomb, can and does speak to 
the people of Japan as much as to us right here. When things seem to be 
so terribly wrong, God will offer us a sign of Life and of Renewal. The 
thing to note, though, is that it involves transformation.

	The clock isn’t stopped or reset. This isn’t “Back to the Future”. This 
is reality. Jesus was executed, in an incredibly horribly way. Since 
then – actually before then, as well – countless others have been just 
as miserably silenced. Nothing can take away the horror of individuals 
and whole families being wiped out. Not as tragic, usually, but even the 
act of birth involves pain, for however short a time.

	Not to belittle tragedy, and inhumane actions, and loneliness, and so 
on, but an interesting article on Jewish faith and tradition I saw had 
the arresting title “Everybody Poops”. There’s even a “blessing for 
going to the bathroom … it’s known as ‘asher yatzar’ (which translates 
simply as ‘The Creator’).” Maybe we could think of that whenever we have 
to change a diaper! It's “a way of reminding ourselves that we can find 
greater meaning in every single aspect of our lives – even, well, poop.” 
3

	One thing should be clear about what we celebrate this morning, though. 
This isn’t anything to do with Pollyanna. Yet it IS recognition that God 
did not run from Golgotha, nor from the tomb. God was right there in the 
pain so that transformation and renewal might start at exactly that 
spot.

	THAT’S why Mary was drawn to the tomb that Sunday morning. THAT’S why 
something made her stay after the others left. Hers was and remains the 
mission to witness to God’s Love which can never be conquered. It’s 
Mary’s example which speaks to us this morning to assure us, so that we 
can bring Taj to the waters of baptism, knowing only that Jesus is 
there, the Spirit is there, to welcome and give us promises that we 
belong to Jesus’ family forever.

And all of this grows out of the darkness, and questioning of the sense 
of coming to the tomb – of coming to Church, for that matter.

To those who may feel that any situation may be hopeless; to those who 
think that one individual, or group, or nation may be too powerful – 
that there’s no possibility of opposing opinions being heard; to those 
who live paycheck to paycheck, praying that nothing extra will crop up 
to wipe out the budget; to any who face any sort of struggle and 
challenge, the news is that Jesus transforms all darkness, and makes it, 
and us, one with the Light.

This is the faith into which we welcome Taj this morning – assuring him, 
his parents and all the rest of us that here that God’s power, and 
Jesus’ resurrection are the signs we need to live in Love, not fear.

That tower in Tokyo – it’s a steel structure which helped the people of 
Japan find something on which to focus as citizens found renewal after 
the Second World War. Its tip was bent by the force of the earthquake. 
Forty-eight year-old “Keiichi Shimoda …said, ‘If they fix Tokyo Tower, 
then I’ll think, now things are all right.’”

I wonder what Mary may have been saying to herself on the way to the 
tomb. No one knows. But we know what she said on the way back, after her 
transformation by Jesus. “Now there’s hope! I can face anything with 
confidence and even laughter and smiles – every single day of my life.” 
THAT’S what we should hear this morning. THAT’S what the people of Japan 
are invited to hear this morning. THAT’S what the crying woman outside 
that Church needs to hear.

Mary Oliver puts it slightly differently in the poem “Why I Wake Early”. 
She wrote:

		Hello, sun in my face.
		Hello, you who make the morning
		and spread it over the fields
		and into the faces of the tulips
		and the nodding morning glories,
		and into the windows of, even, the
		miserable and crotchety –

		best preacher that ever was,
		dear star, that just happens
		to be where you are in the universe
		to keep us from ever-darkness,
		to case us with warm touching,
		to hold us in the great hands of light –
		good morning, good morning, good morning.

		Watch, now, how I start the day
		in happiness, in kindness. 4

NOTES:

1	Psalm 139:11 – used in Evening Prayer page 116, for instance, as an 
opening sentence.

2	“Reeling From Crises, Japan Approaches Familiar Crossroads” by 
NORIMITSU ONISHI. New York Times March 19, 2011. 
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/20/world/asia/20future.html?nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha2

3	“Jewniverse” March 30, 2011. Jewniverse is an initiative of 
MyJewishLearning.com and The Manuel D. and Rhoda Mayerson Foundation.

Robert P Morrison
Interim Vicar
The Episcopal Church of St Alban
PO Box 1556
Albany OR  97321   541-921-1076 (cell)