How many Easters have you been privileged to hear the ancient proclamation: "He is
risen!"? Like the ancient Hallel Psalms which we have been sharing throughout Lent these words are meant to
remind us of the safe passage we've been given through another year of life by God's divine hand, and to inspire
our hope.
The stories we share in scripture for the most part began as conversations which were considered important enough
to record for posterity. They were observations, experiences, personal insights shared between people who cared
about each other enough to reveal the deepest parts of themselves. They were never meant to be taken as lecture
notes, as if all the truths they contained could be understood in a single hearing, but were meant to be shared
again and again…so that each time one might discover something new, something they had never heard before.
And thus the Word would live, and move, and have its being, empowered by some divine force.
Clearly we do not feel that everything in life deserves a "second look," but there are many examples
of how we treat that concept in our daily living. For example:
How many times have you heard someone say referring to a particular restaurant, travel destination, or entertainment
option: "I'm glad I saw it,…but I really have no desire to go back." Or by contrast: "I could return
there time and time again, because there is so much more to do."
Not everyone finds what they are looking for the first time they search. Not everyone sees the value of the things
they have the first time around. And not everyone comes to an understanding of their faith, or the heartfelt thrill
of resurrection joy the first time they hear about it…sometimes it takes a second look, or a third or fourth. Things
too wonderful take more time.
Do you remember the very first time you met your best friend? I was with a small group of people recently and that
question came up. It was amazing how many people admitted that their initial impressions of that person were very
different, sometimes even negative,…but that repeated interactions, and later experiences forged a bond that is
undeniably precious and real.
When interviewing engaged couples and filling out the necessary paperwork, I will often ask "So tell me, where
did you first meet? What was that seemingly innocent moment that began this journey to marriage?" It's not
at all unusual for people to return to that special place,…perhaps to propose, perhaps to reminisce on the occasion
of an anniversary. For there, at that place something began that has taken many twists and turns, but in the best
of situations, has only deepened and become more life-giving.
Not so hard to believe is it, that a place…a thing…can speak? But how carefully we must listen to such symbols
so as not to misinterpret.
Have you ever gone to visit someone in the hospital and found an empty bed? It's very frightening,…but it might
not need to be. The bed itself doesn't say what it means - all it tells you is that the one you were looking for
is not there.
Maybe they got better and went to a different ward or even back home. Maybe they got worse, and went to ICU. Maybe
they died.
An empty hospital bed is a powerful symbol, like a broken robin's eggshell or an old shed snakeskin, a cicada casing,
or an empty cocoon. It is a sign that the life that was once confined within that space has moved on.
In the conversations surrounding the events of that first Easter morning there are many such symbols to be pondered
and listened to. They spoke volumes and they continue to do so "for those with ears to hear."
They certainly did for Mary…and according to John she was the first to see Jesus alive. At first glance however
one would miss much of the joy she eventually found, just as she did.
For example, if this were the only account of Easter morning, one would think that Mary had gone to the tomb alone
in the pre-dawn darkness. It would have been an extremely daring and dangerous thing to do, and even today I would
imagine that most people, women especially, would feel that to go to a cemetery in the pitch darkness, alone would
be a sign that the person was completely lost in their grief, no longer rational or thinking logically.
The other gospels tell us that she went with the other women,…and even here, hidden in the text if one listens
carefully, is the evidence that she was not alone. Having reached Peter and John she tells them : "They have
taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him."
What else might we have missed at first glance?
There is a progression of discovery in this telling. Mary comes first and leaves to tell Peter and John, that disciple
that Jesus loved. They all go running back to the tomb, and John being the youngest gets there first. He looks
in, but he does not go in. Then Peter arrives and in true Peter fashion he goes in without hesitation. He sees
the grave wrappings and that curious second cloth, the face cloth lying separate. Then John goes in and sees the
same. We're told that then they believed and went home.
But believed what? That Mary was right? That the body had been stolen? Or perhaps as Sigmund Brouwer tells in his
book, The Carpenter's Cloth: "During Jesus' time there was one way a carpenter let the contractor know a job
was finished. A signature, so to speak. Imagine a hot afternoon in Galilee. Jesus has completed the final pieces
of a job he has worked on for several days. The hair on his strong forearms is matted with sawdust and sweat. His
face is shiny with heat. He takes a final ...drink of cool water from a leather bag. Then, standing to the side
of his work, he pours water over his face and chest, splashing it over his arms to clean himself before his journey
home. With a nearby towel, he pats his face and arms dry. Finally, he folds the towel neatly in half, and then
folds it in half again. He sets it on the finished work and walks away. Later, whoever arrives to inspect the work
will see the towel and understand its simple message. The work is finished. Christ's disciples, of course, knew
this carpenter's tradition...they would believe the work is done." But perhaps they had no idea that they
would ever see him again.
Nor did Mary…until he called her by name and then her joy was overwhelming.
When Mary finally recognizes the risen Christ he tells her: "Do not "cling to me" -What might he
be telling her? Perhaps "don't hold onto the earthly Jesus or else you will not be able to embrace the risen
Christ!" Perhaps it's a reminder that His transformed personage is still evolving and always moving forward,
beyond our ability to control or restrain.
Perhaps it has to do with the location itself. There is a mountain west of Jerusalem. The crusaders called "Montjoie,"
because from that joyous mount the pilgrim got their first glimpse of the holy city. In time a famous hostel was
built there, and a city grew up around it, trading with the pilgrims who were making their way to Jerusalem. Many
pilgrims and merchants never actually set foot in what was then a Muslim-held city, concerned about the dangers
and contamination, they were content to simply view it from a distance.
Could it be that like Mary, we sometimes are content to cling to the first sight, rather than begin the that more
difficult march to the heavenly city, where we too will have to struggle with foreign ideals and sometimes even
momentary hardships?
Sometimes we avoid returning to a scene. Not all family histories are pleasant to review. There may have been painful
breaks that have left terrible scars or wounds that just won't heal. But every therapist will tell you that even
a painful second look can help.
Two Sundays from now the gospel will take us back to a very familiar place. It's a place the disciples haven't
been to in a while but they will return there for the security it brings them. And there, on the shore of the Sea
of Galilee, while doing very routine tasks they've known from their youth an event will unfold that will sound
achingly familiar. Peter back at his old task of fishing for fish…not catching very much, and once again a stranger
on the shore will challenge him to put down his nets on the other side.
It will be the second time…but this time it will take!
Like the ancient hallel psalms, one of which we used for our call to worship this morning, we find that as we review
the history of our lives we cannot help but discover ample evidence that God has been there for us, and that we
had nothing to fear. Time and time again, when I went off to college, when I took my first church, when I came
to Red Bank, and now as I prepare to leave a career that has been my identity for the past forty years I confront
fear. What is likely to happen? I would imagine that there is not a person alive who at some point near the end
of their life hasn't feared "What if it will all come to nothingness?"
Easter is here again, to remind us all…take another look, a second or third, or fourth look and you will see the
loving face of God who has been there for you all along! He is risen! He is risen indeed!
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