Sermons

“Why Do You Look for the Living Among the Dead?”

Isaiah 65:17-25; Luke 24:1-12 – Rev. Rebecca Littlejohn

Vista La Mesa Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), La Mesa, California – April 21, 2019

 Holy God, bless the speaking and the hearing of these words that we might open our hearts to your presence and seek life.  In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.

Is that all I get to read?  It didn’t really seem like that story had an ending, did it?  Peter was amazed at something, but what exactly? Can I really preach an Easter sermon if no one has seen Jesus yet?  Are we really just going to take the word of two men in dazzling clothes?  I mean, obviously, we are, but let’s slow down a moment to think about why.

It’s so hard to imagine not knowing that Easter is coming.  When the founding premise of a world religion has been around for over 2000 years, it’s hard to un-know it.  But nobody called the first Good Friday “good”.  It’s important to remind ourselves of this.  Because we know what comes next, which is how we can read a story like this incomplete one from Luke 24 and turn to one another and say, “Christ is risen indeed!” What’s weird is how we can hear the Easter stories on auto-pilot, knowing that no matter who exactly was at the tomb or what happened there, Jesus is somewhere, fully risen, and yet live our lives continually looking for the living among the dead.

That’s why it’s so important to read the story from Luke sometimes.  Because this story is about us.  Those dazzling ones are asking us, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” And we need to stop and realize there are good reasons why they’re asking us this question.  Even more importantly, we need to ask ourselves if we’re ready to change what we’re doing, like those women did, set down our embalming spices and turn around.

This Jesus we’re celebrating today, he told us so many things.  He told us to take special care of children, and to feed the hungry and free the captive, and to forgive people more times than we can really count, and to love our enemies.  And much of the time, we live as if we find all of that an “idle tale”.  It wasn’t the Marys and Joanna the apostles were dismissing that morning, or even the angels; it was Jesus himself, who had told them “the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.”  They didn’t believe him when he said it, and they still didn’t believe him when he did it. They weren’t ready for Easter. But Easter is here.  So it’s time to figure out if we’re any more ready for it than the apostles were.

What is the name of the graveyard where you have been seeking solace?  Is it anger, grudges and revenge fantasies?  Is it addiction or escapism?  Is it nostalgia?  Or cynicism? Or apathy?  What is it within you that tempts you to dismiss words of hope as “idle tales”?  No matter how it got there inside you, you don’t have to listen to it.  You can choose Easter instead.  You can leave the graveyard behind.  You can choose new life in Christ Jesus.  The story we heard from Luke is incomplete, but you get to choose your own ending, today and every day.

As I was fulfilling my dream yesterday, of wrapping the pergola in the prayer garden with yards and yards of tulle, people kept asking me, “Who’s getting married?”  And I’m not sure anyone believed me when I kept telling them that the Bible repeatedly talks about the church being adorned as a bride awaiting her bridegroom. I bring this up because a wedding metaphor is actually pretty useful here.  The class that Al participated in that led to his baptism today was not called “baptism” class.  People don’t go with their partner to “wedding counseling”; they go to “marriage counseling.” Likewise, the class was called “Discipleship Class” because it wasn’t about the ritual event, but rather about the life the ritual leads to.

Baptism is a choice – a choice made public – that leads into a lifetime of choices.  Each and every day, we have the choice to believe in the Easter good news, not take it for granted.  Right now, this moment, we can choose to seek life among the living, not among the dead. We can set down our embalming spices and turn around, rejecting cynicism and anger and hollow tradition in favor of authentic community and reconciliation and creativity.  We can give up our old habits that somehow never take us anywhere new and embrace the transformation that Christ is offering us.

On Thursday night, we had a visceral experience of the weight of the sins of our world, as we stacked large stones in front of the Christ candle.  Some of those stones represented the difficult issues we’ve been holding in prayer through the season of Lent.  Focusing on these hard problems could easily turn into looking for the living among the dead.  Despair is always close at hand, when we turn our eyes toward the suffering of our neighbors. But we were praying about these issues alongside Jesus, the Lamb of God, and Jesus keeps pulling us back toward Life. “He has gone ahead of you,” the angels in another version of the story say.  He’s out there, already with those who suffer, lighting the candles of hope, planting the seeds of creative thinking that will liberate new solutions. This morning, those same stones were rolled away, and what was revealed was pure praise: “Alleluia!  Alleluia!  Alleluia!” How can we live as if these words are an idle tale?

“New heavens and a new earth.”  “Be glad and rejoice.”  “A delight and a joy.”  The words of the prophet Isaiah sound a bit like an idle tale as well.  But only if we don’t understand the power of the Word Made Flesh.  God gives us visions of how things could be so that we won’t ever stop joining in the Spirit’s work of transforming what is.  This is what it means to be an Easter people, that we cherish the words of hope that are spoken in our midst and live as if they are true, for by doing so, we make them true.  This is how we seek Life among the living, by bringing Jesus with us when we confront the suffering of the world.  This is the new life in Christ that baptism invites us into, a decision to proclaim how the story ends:  Christ is risen, in word and in deed!  Alleluia and Amen!