Resurrection And Remembrance
Sermon
Sermons On The Gospel Readings
Series I, Cycle C
Down through the centuries there have been various and sundry attempts to try to discredit the resurrection of Jesus -- some amusing, some rather outrageous. The "stolen body" hypothesis is perhaps the most popular among the many explanations. This theory supposes that grave robbers tampered with the tomb and moved the corpse of Christ in the middle of the night. Some suggest the robbers were disciples. Others maintain it was Pilate in an attempt to squash a movement that was born anyway.
Then there's the "wrong tomb" theory. The women just got turned around in the dark on that first Easter morning. When they come to the wrong tomb in the early a.m., they see a couple of gardeners who say (and this is biblical), "He is not here." What they meant to say was, "He's really over there. He is not here." But the women flee in panic and the rest is history.
Have you ever heard of the "lettuce" theory? Also known by some scholars as the "salad" theory? In this scenario, the gardener gets so ticked at curiosity-seekers trampling his new lettuce garden that he physically removes the body of Jesus and plants it elsewhere. I am not making these up. These are bona-fide historical theories.1
And there's really no time to mention the "rapid-decay" hypothesis where in Palestine's hot, muggy climate the body simply decomposed at a rather alarming rate. Or my personal favorite, the "twin brother" conjecture. You can probably figure out the gist of that one on your own. One of the latest explanations, offered by John Dominic Crossan at DePaul University, is that Jesus' body was probably eaten by dogs like most of the other criminals crucified at that time.
I find each of these theories rather laughable. They each come at Easter from a rational, scientific angle that attempts to enter the tomb with a test tube. "The facts just don't add up, Mr. Watson, so it can't be true." Presto, resurrection disproved. Others, you may have noted, have entered the tomb through another door, also with a test tube, trying to prove the resurrection. The Shroud of Turin comes to mind, which is somewhat similar to the misguided search for Noah's Ark. "I've got the DNA, dated the carbon-14, Mr. Watson. So Easter, we can all rest assured about this, is really true after all." Trying to prove the resurrection is a little like trying to prove the existence of God. The truth of Easter, like the truth of the Creator, is not deduced through experiments. Resurrection is an enterprise of faith. And faith, I have come to know, is an exercise in remembering.
Something happened in the lives of the first disciples that transformed them from cowardly, frightened, timid followers at Jesus' death to bold, courageous advocates of the Word who risked life and limb for Jesus in the book of Acts. Most of the disciples were martyred for their faith. Myths are important and powerful windows to the truth. But myths do not make martyrs. I doubt that someone would die defending the salad theory.
I want you to notice something with me this morning. When does Easter happen for these women in Luke? They come down the path to embalm the body of Jesus. They see a stone rolled away and even enter an empty tomb. Does that do it for them? That's fairly strong Easter evidence. But no, an empty tomb does not do it. "They were perplexed about this," but no Easter.
How about the angels? The two guys in dazzling clothes? Now that's pretty impressive. One could believe a lot (right?) if visited by a pair of angels. Angels are all the rage these days. Is this enough to initiate belief? Something utterly paranormal? No, it is not. The women were "terrified" but Easter hasn't happened for them yet. There is this modern mantra about Easter that goes something like this: "If I had only been there and seen it with my eyes like those first disciples, then I could maybe become a follower of Jesus." But these women were right there. They could feel the stone where Jesus' warm body had rested only hours before. They saw the folded grave jammies. They interviewed some angels. But still no Easter. So what caused Easter to happen in the hearts of Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the rest?
Look closely at the text from Luke. The angels don't come at these women with test tubes and various theological hypotheses. They don't try to talk them into Easter at all. "Remember," they say. "Remember how he told you." Verse 8 is short, but on it turns the reality and truth of Easter for these women. Then they remembered his words. Right there. Easter happens for these women right there and not a moment sooner. And Easter happens, please note, not because they were intellectually argued into it, but because they remembered. They remembered the words of Jesus. Easter happened then. And not one moment sooner.
What implications does such an Easter story have for modern Christians like us? Well, lots. We tend to want to prove it. Or disprove it. Long live the intellect! But what if Easter doesn't happen that way, not just for these women, but for anybody? What if Easter happens largely through remembering the words of Jesus, living the words of Jesus, being so thoroughly familiar with the words of Jesus that they're more important than our next breath? Then they remembered his words. But what if we don't know those words? What if we've forgotten them? Theophan the Recluse, a nineteenth-century Russian spiritual master, once wrote: "Everywhere and always God is with us, near to us, and in us. But we are not always with him, since we do not remember him." Then they remembered his words. Our forgetting the words does not cancel the reality of the risen Christ in the world. But our lack of memory severely restricts Easter happening in us.
And we are on the verge, as Christians here in America, of forgetting the words. We have a memory problem. We are inundated with 64 channels worth of words. We are bombarded with a "world wide web" of words. But the serious student of the Word of God is increasingly rare in our churches. We have stopped telling the story in our homes, stopped reading the Bible on a regular devotional basis.
Theologian Ellen Charry pointedly asks: "Unless our children know Jesus, what will protect them from hurting themselves and others?" (I might also ask that question of adults). "Accepting guidance from any source but the self -- and especially looking for guidance from God -- is looked upon as a sign of weakness [in our culture]."2
So how will resurrection happen among such a proud people? How will resurrection occur in rocky marriages? In friendships that have soured? In family squabbles? How will resurrection happen in a world struggling with addiction, poverty, and racism? How does Easter leap off the calendar and into our hearts? Well, how did Easter happen for the women at the tomb? Then they remembered his words. It behooves us to ask this Easter: How many of Jesus' words are portable for us? What words of Jesus can we take into the tombs of this world, of this community? Are we truly allowing the words of Jesus to bore into our proud hearts? Here in America, we undeniably have a memory problem.
You may have noticed the article in Newsweek magazine about the explosion of Christianity in developing nations.3 The author of the article, Kenneth Woodward, spent three weeks traveling around the African continent. His car broke down twice and then a third time in a remote part of Nigeria. It was Sunday morning and Woodward was worried. "We had to fetch a village mechanic before he went to church," he says, "because we knew he'd be there for hours." In Africa, Latin America, and Asia, particularly its poorest pockets, the church is thriving. Here in the West, with notable exceptions, expressions of Christianity are severely compromised and weakening. The next pope, according to Woodward, will most likely be a wonderful man from Nigeria. And the dark "pagan" places where the American church once sent Christian missionaries are now sending their own missionaries to evangelize people in the United States! They have been sent, I think, to jog our memories. The center of the Christian world is shifting. And that may not be a bad thing for the American church, which has largely lost its way. It will cause us to focus once again on mission for a whole generation of marginally connected people.
Then they remembered his words. Maybe I'm missing something in the story today. But isn't this how Easter happens for these women? Isn't this how resurrection becomes real for them? Jesus' words come alive in their hearts in the context of a tomb. You are welcome to try to prove or disprove Easter with a test tube. But to tell you the truth, I'm not sure your findings will matter that much one way or the other.
Resurrection happens in our lives when we choose to cultivate a healthy Christian memory. When we remember his words. It behooves the American church, perhaps more than ever before, to teach and discover those words, daring to take them on the road into the tombs of our community.
Easter happened 2,000 years ago. But how does it happen today? When we remember his words.
____________
1. Most of the theories discussed here are described in detail in Paul L. Maier's book, In the Fullness of Time: A Historian Looks at Christmas, Easter and the Early Church (HarperSanFrancisco, 1991), pp. 189-96.
2. Ellen Charry, "Raising Christian Children in a Pagan Culture" The Christian Century (February 16, 1994), p. 166.
3. Kenneth Woodward, "The Changing Face of the Church" Newsweek (April 16, 2001), pp. 46-52. The quote from the sermon appears in the "Bylines" section of the magazine (p. 6). The emphasis here is mine.
Then there's the "wrong tomb" theory. The women just got turned around in the dark on that first Easter morning. When they come to the wrong tomb in the early a.m., they see a couple of gardeners who say (and this is biblical), "He is not here." What they meant to say was, "He's really over there. He is not here." But the women flee in panic and the rest is history.
Have you ever heard of the "lettuce" theory? Also known by some scholars as the "salad" theory? In this scenario, the gardener gets so ticked at curiosity-seekers trampling his new lettuce garden that he physically removes the body of Jesus and plants it elsewhere. I am not making these up. These are bona-fide historical theories.1
And there's really no time to mention the "rapid-decay" hypothesis where in Palestine's hot, muggy climate the body simply decomposed at a rather alarming rate. Or my personal favorite, the "twin brother" conjecture. You can probably figure out the gist of that one on your own. One of the latest explanations, offered by John Dominic Crossan at DePaul University, is that Jesus' body was probably eaten by dogs like most of the other criminals crucified at that time.
I find each of these theories rather laughable. They each come at Easter from a rational, scientific angle that attempts to enter the tomb with a test tube. "The facts just don't add up, Mr. Watson, so it can't be true." Presto, resurrection disproved. Others, you may have noted, have entered the tomb through another door, also with a test tube, trying to prove the resurrection. The Shroud of Turin comes to mind, which is somewhat similar to the misguided search for Noah's Ark. "I've got the DNA, dated the carbon-14, Mr. Watson. So Easter, we can all rest assured about this, is really true after all." Trying to prove the resurrection is a little like trying to prove the existence of God. The truth of Easter, like the truth of the Creator, is not deduced through experiments. Resurrection is an enterprise of faith. And faith, I have come to know, is an exercise in remembering.
Something happened in the lives of the first disciples that transformed them from cowardly, frightened, timid followers at Jesus' death to bold, courageous advocates of the Word who risked life and limb for Jesus in the book of Acts. Most of the disciples were martyred for their faith. Myths are important and powerful windows to the truth. But myths do not make martyrs. I doubt that someone would die defending the salad theory.
I want you to notice something with me this morning. When does Easter happen for these women in Luke? They come down the path to embalm the body of Jesus. They see a stone rolled away and even enter an empty tomb. Does that do it for them? That's fairly strong Easter evidence. But no, an empty tomb does not do it. "They were perplexed about this," but no Easter.
How about the angels? The two guys in dazzling clothes? Now that's pretty impressive. One could believe a lot (right?) if visited by a pair of angels. Angels are all the rage these days. Is this enough to initiate belief? Something utterly paranormal? No, it is not. The women were "terrified" but Easter hasn't happened for them yet. There is this modern mantra about Easter that goes something like this: "If I had only been there and seen it with my eyes like those first disciples, then I could maybe become a follower of Jesus." But these women were right there. They could feel the stone where Jesus' warm body had rested only hours before. They saw the folded grave jammies. They interviewed some angels. But still no Easter. So what caused Easter to happen in the hearts of Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the rest?
Look closely at the text from Luke. The angels don't come at these women with test tubes and various theological hypotheses. They don't try to talk them into Easter at all. "Remember," they say. "Remember how he told you." Verse 8 is short, but on it turns the reality and truth of Easter for these women. Then they remembered his words. Right there. Easter happens for these women right there and not a moment sooner. And Easter happens, please note, not because they were intellectually argued into it, but because they remembered. They remembered the words of Jesus. Easter happened then. And not one moment sooner.
What implications does such an Easter story have for modern Christians like us? Well, lots. We tend to want to prove it. Or disprove it. Long live the intellect! But what if Easter doesn't happen that way, not just for these women, but for anybody? What if Easter happens largely through remembering the words of Jesus, living the words of Jesus, being so thoroughly familiar with the words of Jesus that they're more important than our next breath? Then they remembered his words. But what if we don't know those words? What if we've forgotten them? Theophan the Recluse, a nineteenth-century Russian spiritual master, once wrote: "Everywhere and always God is with us, near to us, and in us. But we are not always with him, since we do not remember him." Then they remembered his words. Our forgetting the words does not cancel the reality of the risen Christ in the world. But our lack of memory severely restricts Easter happening in us.
And we are on the verge, as Christians here in America, of forgetting the words. We have a memory problem. We are inundated with 64 channels worth of words. We are bombarded with a "world wide web" of words. But the serious student of the Word of God is increasingly rare in our churches. We have stopped telling the story in our homes, stopped reading the Bible on a regular devotional basis.
Theologian Ellen Charry pointedly asks: "Unless our children know Jesus, what will protect them from hurting themselves and others?" (I might also ask that question of adults). "Accepting guidance from any source but the self -- and especially looking for guidance from God -- is looked upon as a sign of weakness [in our culture]."2
So how will resurrection happen among such a proud people? How will resurrection occur in rocky marriages? In friendships that have soured? In family squabbles? How will resurrection happen in a world struggling with addiction, poverty, and racism? How does Easter leap off the calendar and into our hearts? Well, how did Easter happen for the women at the tomb? Then they remembered his words. It behooves us to ask this Easter: How many of Jesus' words are portable for us? What words of Jesus can we take into the tombs of this world, of this community? Are we truly allowing the words of Jesus to bore into our proud hearts? Here in America, we undeniably have a memory problem.
You may have noticed the article in Newsweek magazine about the explosion of Christianity in developing nations.3 The author of the article, Kenneth Woodward, spent three weeks traveling around the African continent. His car broke down twice and then a third time in a remote part of Nigeria. It was Sunday morning and Woodward was worried. "We had to fetch a village mechanic before he went to church," he says, "because we knew he'd be there for hours." In Africa, Latin America, and Asia, particularly its poorest pockets, the church is thriving. Here in the West, with notable exceptions, expressions of Christianity are severely compromised and weakening. The next pope, according to Woodward, will most likely be a wonderful man from Nigeria. And the dark "pagan" places where the American church once sent Christian missionaries are now sending their own missionaries to evangelize people in the United States! They have been sent, I think, to jog our memories. The center of the Christian world is shifting. And that may not be a bad thing for the American church, which has largely lost its way. It will cause us to focus once again on mission for a whole generation of marginally connected people.
Then they remembered his words. Maybe I'm missing something in the story today. But isn't this how Easter happens for these women? Isn't this how resurrection becomes real for them? Jesus' words come alive in their hearts in the context of a tomb. You are welcome to try to prove or disprove Easter with a test tube. But to tell you the truth, I'm not sure your findings will matter that much one way or the other.
Resurrection happens in our lives when we choose to cultivate a healthy Christian memory. When we remember his words. It behooves the American church, perhaps more than ever before, to teach and discover those words, daring to take them on the road into the tombs of our community.
Easter happened 2,000 years ago. But how does it happen today? When we remember his words.
____________
1. Most of the theories discussed here are described in detail in Paul L. Maier's book, In the Fullness of Time: A Historian Looks at Christmas, Easter and the Early Church (HarperSanFrancisco, 1991), pp. 189-96.
2. Ellen Charry, "Raising Christian Children in a Pagan Culture" The Christian Century (February 16, 1994), p. 166.
3. Kenneth Woodward, "The Changing Face of the Church" Newsweek (April 16, 2001), pp. 46-52. The quote from the sermon appears in the "Bylines" section of the magazine (p. 6). The emphasis here is mine.
