Easter Day, 2005:

A young man had become interested in religion while in college.  He had just been baptized, joined the church, and was taking his Bible-studies very seriously.  While waiting in the airport lounge for his flight home for the summer, he was intently reading the Old Testament.  Every now and then he would exclaim, “Halleluiah!  Praise the Lord!”  Every few minutes he would repeat the “Halleluiah!  Praise the Lord.” 

A rather skeptical man was sitting across from the recent convert and couldn’t resist the temptation to ask what he was reading?  The young man said, “I’m reading the Bible.  I just got to the part in Exodus where God parted the Red Sea and the Hebrew children passed through on dry ground.  That’s a miracle.”

The skeptical man said, “Do not believe everything the Bible tells you.  The truth of the matter is that the body of water was only six-inches deep; hardly something I would call a miracle.”

“Bummer,” the young man said, but he continued to read.  The skeptic felt rather prideful that he had burst another unscientific bubble.

All of a sudden the young man yelled even louder than before, “Halleluiah!  Praise the Lord!”  The skeptic walked over again and asked, “What is it this time?”

“This one is a real miracle,” the young man said excitedly.  “God drowned the whole Egyptian army in six-inches of water!”

I don’t know where you are in your feeling about miracles?  Perhaps these interventions of God into the affairs and order of the world are six-inch ideas to you.  Maybe, like the young man, they cause a “Halleluiah! Praise the Lord!” response in you.  I’m not totally convinced that, in the final analysis, it matters a great deal.  At least part of the miracle of this day is that you are here; even with six-inch faith, that is enough.

Most of you probably drove here this morning.  Even with gas prices like they are, it is too far to walk for most of us.  But, I wonder how many of you, after getting out of the car, ran to get inside the church?  Did you amble up as usual, shake a hand or two, and greet others with a cherry “Happy Easter?”  It is okay if that’s what you did.  Perhaps your step had a bit more spring in it and you moved a little more quickly on this Easter Day.

Did you notice how many times the words “ran” or “running” are found in the Gospel for this Easter Sunday?  Mary Magdalene ran to tell Peter and the others that insult had been added to injury; someone had stolen the Lord’s body from the tomb.  Peter and young John, the Beloved Disciple, run toward the tomb.  John, being the younger, outruns Peter and arrived there first.  Easter Day brings about a bit more of a hurried pace.

But, first Mary of Magdela, the scarlet sinner whom Jesus made a new person because he loved her just the way she was, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome, and the wife of Zebedee and mother of James and John, walk slowly to the tomb in the darkness.  They came out of love and devotion both to Jesus and to Mary his mother.  The constraints of the Passover and the desire not to leave bodies on crosses had prevented them from doing the customary anointing of the body prior to the burial and they had come in the predawn darkness to fulfill the centuries-old ritual.  The extravagant ointment that had been used to bathe his feet would now be used to anoint his body; myrrh presented to him at his birth by the astrologers who had come from the east would now accompany him in the tomb.

The questions and concerns voiced by the women that morning are different only in tone, but not in substance, from the ones we ask when we walk toward graves and tombs. 
    

“Who is strong enough to roll away the stone from the tomb?”  Our questions revolve around rolling away the stone of grief and sadness that grips our hearts and causes that empty feeling in the pit of our stomachs when we walk toward the final resting places of the remains of a loved one.  Like Mary Magdalene and the other women and countless millions before and since that first Easter Day, we walk with tears in our eyes because we cannot accept the fact that we will never see that one who has passed from time to eternity in this life again.

But, Mary Magdalene came to learn the truth about Easter.  The one whom she loved would not be contained in a tomb.  Even six-inch faith can lead us to that conclusion.  Easter confronts us with life, but we cannot really appreciate resurrection living until we see what it is that resurrection comes from; that is, something must die before new life is possible. 

If this life is all we have, just these brief moments of existence on this round earth, then it is little wonder that we resort to courts of law and congressional meddling to tell us who is alive and who is not.  If this is all we have I can understand the desire to keep loved ones present no matter what their quality of life and our basic confusion about when death comes.

Easter provides lessons about living and dying and about how those realities can best be handled.  First, look at these faithful women who come to the tomb that first Easter morning.  Someone they loved was gone.  No experience in life is more universal than that one.  George Bernard Shaw was right when he said, “Life’s ultimate statistic is the same for all people---one out of one dies.”  None of us will avoid our own funeral.  No one avoids physical death.  Even more profound, no one avoids losing people they love.

The second lesson is that Mary Magdalene and Peter and the others did not understand the full scope and grandeur of the Gospel.  Those close to him had heard him say he must suffer and die and after three days rise from the dead, but it had not become a reality in their hearts and minds and lives until now.  The same is true for us, as well.

Karl Barth, considered by many the greatest theologian of the last century, was once asked, “Why do people come to church?”  Barth answered, “They come asking the question, ‘Is it true?’”

I suspect that is especially true on Easter Sunday.  People who do not come at other times are in churches on Easter Sunday asking, “Is it true?  I’ve heard there is a loving God who created the universe and who presides over it, who knows when the tiniest sparrow falls from the sky.  I’ve heard God loved the world so much that God sent the only Son that whoever believes will not perish, but have eternal life.  I’ve heard all that, but is it true?  Can I really trust my life and the lives of those I love to God’s care?  Can I count on it?  Is it true?”

I suspect some are weeping inwardly this day because they have yet to realize in their hearts the full scope and grandeur of the Gospel.  All I can say is that my six-inch deep faith leads me to believe it is absolutely true.  Yes, you can trust in that God.  Easter gives us the opportunity to place our hand in God’s hand and walk toward life.  Not doing so means we are walking toward death.

Mary and the others walked toward a grave and were grief-stricken and weeping because someone they loved was gone and they did not yet see the full scope and grandeur of the Gospel.

The third lesson is that they had not encountered the Risen Christ.  Now please listen carefully.  The teachings of Jesus are the most beautiful and important than any humanity has ever or will ever receive.  We are still struggling trying to grasp the fullest meaning of them, but they alone are not enough.  Jesus dying on the cross in obedience to the Father’s will is not enough.  Peter was still heartbroken, an ashamed, fragile reed dangling in the wind, shattered that he had denied knowing him and the fact that he had run away.  That’s not much of a rock upon which to build anything.  Judas walked and talked with him every day and still betrayed him.  The others fled and deserted him in the face of impending dangers.  There are those who see Jesus as a great teacher.  He certainly was, but that is not enough.  Others want to elevate him to the perfect role model.  He was and still is, but that is not enough.  Others want to see Jesus’ death on the cross as an example of the kind of courage and sacrificial love that is needed in our world today.  It is, but that is not enough.

If the story of Jesus had ended with his life, teachings, passion, and death on the cross, it is crystal clear that his disciples would have gone back to their previous occupations and Jesus would be a footnote in the pages of history; a story of goodness and what happens to a person who brought God too close to religion.  But, we would not be here this day and the Beetles would never have written a hit song about imagining there was no heaven or hell.  This space might just be an extension of Tharp Funeral Home, who would no doubt do an even brisker business than now.

It was the experience of coming to faith in the Risen Christ that transformed that little band of frightened followers into the strong initial community of faith that proceeded to turn the world upside down.  It is the experience of the Risen Christ, present in Word, sacraments, private and public acts of prayer and worship and in the loving deeds of service done in his name that continues to transform our community of faith.  It is the resurrection that is the defining event in Christian history and in each Christian’s life.

Many continue to walk toward death and, as always, death will oblige them.  That others die because of that hatred and violence remains a tragedy of our times and theirs.  God knows what it is like to lose someone close.  God knows we need help realizing the full scope and grandeur of the Gospel.  That is why we are invited this day to an encounter with the Risen Christ.

These two little ones, the newest Saints of St. John’s, will be baptized into the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus the Christ.  It will be our task to help them grow in faith.  Perhaps it will just be six-inches deep, but it will be enough to help them say, “Halleluiah!  Praise the Lord!”  All of that is true because, “Alleluia!  Christ is risen.  The Lord is risen indeed.  Alleluia.”  Amen.