Easter Sunday

Matthew 28:1-10

When we witness the two women at the tomb in that early dawn, we can imagine their sorrow. They went to visit the tomb of their friend and teacher Jesus, the one they believed to be the Messiah. But for all appearances, Jesus had been crucified and buried and all logic and understanding said that was the end.

And then, Matthew tells us that suddenly the earth shook, and an angel appeared, and the women learned that Jesus lives.

Today we celebrate with those first witnesses to the Resurrection that Jesus is risen from the dead, that He has broken the tomb wide open and that He has come back to life and is with us. And then, like the two women named Mary and the other disciples who met Jesus in Galilee, we have to ask, how will we respond to the Risen Christ?

If we are like the disciples in Matthew’s gospel, we will respond with some mixture of fear, joy and obedience. It’s a good reminder that there is more than one way to respond faithfully to God.

Throughout Scripture we hear God and messengers from God tell us, “Fear not” and “Do not be afraid”. The messengers are fulfilling ancient prophecy, they are delivering good news of great joy, they are there to reassure the people of God’s comforting presence in the midst of uncertainty and confusion. Fear is a natural, human response to what we don’t know or understand.

I learned during my Spanish lesson this week that when we say we like something in English we only have one word for that, but in Spanish there are two different words that mean “to like.” If you want to say that you like tamales, you would say, “Me gustan tamales” but if you want to say that you like your pastors, you would say, “Me caen bien los pastors.”

In the same way, in English, when we say we fear something, we often mean we have a phobia or fear of something, like a fear of snakes or thunderstorms or the unknown. (φόβου Matt. 28:4 BGT) 

But we use the same word in English and in Greek when our fear is not a state of being filled with terror, as much as it is being filled with awe. The meaning changes but you have to understand the context to know that.

We hear this meaning of fear in Psalm 139 when the psalmist declares, “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” And again in Martin Luther’s Small Catechism where he began each explanation of the commandments with the words, “We are to fear and love God…” Luther wasn’t trying to strike terror in our hearts, but he did want us to respond to the extraordinary love of God.

So, when the angel tells the women, “Do not be afraid” (v. 5), he is comforting them in their genuine fear of what they cannot understand: the earthquake, the angel’s appearance, Jesus’ absence from the tomb.

But when they leave the tomb with “fear and great joy” (v. 8),

their fear has been transformed and they are in awe of what God has done.

Lutheran pastor Mark Allan Powell writes that, “Joy transforms fear into worship.”[i]

Here, joy is more than fleeting happiness.

It is the joy that the prophet Nehemiah promises Israel saying, “The joy of the Lord will be your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10) and that the psalmists say is found in God’s presence (Psalm 16:11).

It is the joy that the magi experience in the presence of the infant Jesus at the Nativity. “Joy is a fruit of the [Holy] Spirit (Galatians 5:22) and a mark of those who love the Lord Jesus. (1 Peter 1:8).”[ii]

This joy is from God, and it is enduring. 

This Easter morning our response to the Risen Christ is joy-filled worship. We adorn the cross with butterflies to celebrate the promise of new life, of the transformative power of God. Our melodies ring throughout the church, and with shouts of Alleluia, we rejoice because Jesus is risen from the dead, He has broken the tomb wide open, and He has come back to life and is with us. After the foot washing and the last supper, the crucifixion and the despair of Holy Saturday, “Easter means that hope prevails over despair.”[iii]

And yet, while our joy endures, we cannot stand still. The two women named Mary obediently follow the commands they’re given first by the angel of the Lord and then by Jesus. As witnesses to the Resurrection and disciples of Jesus, we too are called not only to “come and see” but to “go and tell” what God has done.

Every day we are called to share God’s love in our words and our actions and certainly, our care for each other and for our neighbors is one way of telling what God has done.

But if you want to try something new, the Easter season is fifty days long so each day, you could write down one way you saw God in the world and then share what you have seen with a friend.

You could tell someone the story of how your faith was formed.

You could find out the story behind your favorite hymn and tell someone else what you learned.

You could – and I know what I’m asking –

but you could invite someone to come and worship here with you at Grace!

Church, Jesus is risen from the dead, He has broken the tomb wide open, and He has come back to life and is with us. God has done this because God’s love is for the whole world, so do not be afraid, come and see, and go and tell! 

Let us pray….[iv]

God of the empty tomb, Risen Lord,

On Easter Sunday you give us new life and

a renewed hunger for faith.

We know that Easter does not mean the work of seeking stops. Instead, you are now on the loose—out in the world, anywhere

and everywhere.

So our seeking only continues

as we look for your fingerprints all around us.

Give us clarity for the things we seek,

and the courage to continue the work with awe, joy and obedience. Amen.

---

[i] Mark Allan Powell. Loving Jesus, 121.

[ii] Powell, 119.

[iii] Desmond Tutu.

[iv] Adapted from prayers by The Rev. Sarah A. Speed, A Sanctified Art.

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost/Lectionary 12B

Mark 4:35-41

If you like sea stories, there’s some wonderful literature, folklore and myth. There is Samuel Coleridge’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner and Ernest Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea. Homer introduced us to Scylla and Charybdis and the sirens that plagued Odysseus and in the Old Testament we meet Leviathan.

A popular tale is that medieval mapmakers would print “Here be dragons” to signify unknown regions on a map. While that is more fantasy than fact, mapmakers did include illustrations of monsters and fearsome creatures in the unexplored places.[i] For them, the oceans and seas were places of adventure and mystery.

In the biblical narrative, the sea symbolizes chaos and disorder.

In today’s gospel, Jesus finishes preaching to the crowds from the boat on the shore of the Sea of Galilee and tells his disciples, “Let us go across to the other side.” 

It wasn’t a small ask. Some of the disciples were experienced fishermen and would have been familiar with the frequent storms that developed on the sea; others may have been more like fish out of water, being asked to set sail when they hadn’t spent much time on the water. Whether they had their sea legs or not, Jesus was asking the disciples to go to the territory of the Gentiles, people who were unknown and strange to them.

And as they crossed to the other side, sure enough, a storm rose up. The word here is the same as ‘the whirlwind’ in the reading from Job. There was power and strength in these winds; Mark says the waves beat into the boat. (v. 37)

It would have been simple enough to turn and go back to shore, to seek shelter and refuge, to retreat to calm and quiet safety. But the disciples don’t do that.

Mark says, instead, they wake Jesus who’s asleep in the stern or the back of the boat.

Do you think Jesus was being irresponsible or callous by taking a nap while the storm tossed them about?

We hear the disciples cry out, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” (v. 38) But remember, at least some of the disciples were fishermen. Jesus knew this was their boat and he trusted their gifts, as the crew, for navigating the sea.

When they do come to him, he responds immediately, rebuking the wind and telling the sea to be still. And Mark says, then, there was a dead calm.

In that moment, the people on the boat with Jesus and in the boats around him witness the power and strength not of nature, but of Jesus, as Lord of all.

Jesus accompanies us in our own lives and never promises that he won’t ask us to go into unfamiliar situations. Following Jesus isn’t about going to places we already know or being with people who make us comfortable.

And Jesus never says we won’t experience storms or get beaten by circumstances and even be afraid. There is evil in the world. And even when we are safe from explicit evil or overt violence, we still live in a world filled with people and every one of us is saint and sinner, and, apart from Christ, we cannot be redeemed. Christ alone delivers us from sin and saves us.

In the text the disciples encountered a weather event - a physical storm of wind and waves - but often we find ourselves in the midst of storms emotionally and spiritually - steered in one direction or another by forces outside our control, slammed this way and that by emotions and fearful of what is ahead.

And when we are overwhelmed, the temptation is to think God has forgotten us or abandoned us and isn’t paying attention and doesn’t love us.

Mark reminds us that Jesus not only accompanies us in the chaos and disorder; Jesus also equips us, nurturing our gifts for specific vocations or callings. We are created for community and relationship and Jesus places us in people’s lives so that they can see God’s love and power through us.

And when we do get overwhelmed or fear paralyzes us, Jesus responds to our cries and invites us into his peace.

Unlike the desert fathers and mothers in the early church, or even monastic orders today, most of us find ourselves every day in the midst of the chaos and turmoil of the world and that is where Jesus anchors us in his peace, despite the storms of life, and invites our trust.

Hearing Mark’s gospel, I think God has equipped us, as the Church, for all that is ahead and expects us to use our gifts and talents for ministry in our community and world. We do not need to be afraid and we must trust that Jesus is with us as we share the Good News of God’s love for the world.

Let us pray…

Good and Gracious God,

We give you thanks for your deliverance from sin and evil, and for your Son Jesus.

Thank you for your steadfast love and presence with us even in the tumult and turmoil of the wildest storms life brings.

Anchor us in your peace that we would be your witnesses in the world.

We pray in the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

[i] https://www.nationalgeographic.org/article/here-be-dragons/, accessed 6/11/2021.

Tenth Sunday after Pentecost / Lectionary 19A

Matthew 14:22-33

In Matthew 8 the disciples are on the Sea of Galilee when a storm whips up and nearly swamps the boat they are sailing, and Jesus nearly sleeps through the commotion. When they wake him and call out to him, “Lord, save us! We are perishing!” he says to them, “Why are you afraid, you of little faith?” And Matthew tells us, “Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a dead calm.”

And now in Matthew 14, after healing the sick and teaching about the kingdom of heaven, after the miraculous feeding of the five thousand, we have another sea tale.

Matthew tells us that, after the people were fed and satisfied, Jesus went off on his own and the disciples set sail, planning to cross to the other side. But this time, it isn’t a storm that frightens the disciples. Matthew says the boat was battered by waves, so they were probably exhausted and soaked through and through, but they weren’t afraid of the sea this time. They only cried out in fear when they saw Jesus walking on the sea toward them.

While the translation we just read says these events took place early in the morning, the Greek is more exact, saying it was the fourth watch of the night, which is between 3 and 6 a.m. Most of us would probably call it the wee hours of the night, not early morning.  

About fifteen years ago, I was on the crew of a boat sailing from Annapolis, Maryland to Cape Cod, Massachusetts, and I remember taking a fourth watch. Even with modern running lights, electronic instruments, and lighthouse beacons, it’s dark at night on the open water.

At that hour, you aren’t expecting to see much of anything, so it’s no wonder that in the midst of the fog and shifting shadows of those wee hours, the disciples thought Jesus was a ghost.  

But I don’t want to just sail past that detail. The disciples have just spent days with Jesus, soaking in his teaching; watching his compassion and love for suffering and hungry people and learning from him. They had shared the abundance of God’s goodness with the crowds less than twelve hours before, but now they do not recognize him.

If we are honest, we know we often don’t fare a lot better. We worship together, hear Scripture, offer our confession and receive forgiveness, pray and praise God for all God gives us, and yet, in an instant, when we become frustrated, angry, or afraid, we forget everything we know about God and who we are as God’s children.

It’s likely that, in their uncertainty, the disciples reverted to their base instincts, and seized onto what they had been taught about the sea - that it is threatening, a place of chaos, representing all the anxieties, powers and principalities that threaten the good of created order. Operating from that space, they thought what they were seeing must be an apparition and perhaps it had been sent to them by one of those destructive forces. Is it any wonder they cried out?

The experience of miracle and wonder from the day before was lost. As were any of the comforting words Jesus had spoken earlier to them, when he told them, “the hairs of your head are counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.” (Matt. 10:31)

They became afraid and, in their fear and anxiety, they could not recognize the very presence of God with them in Jesus.

Matthew says, “Immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, "Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid." (Matt. 14:27)

Again, the Greek is more specific than the English. What Jesus says is ἐγώ εἰμι  ̶  “I am”, the very same words that God spoke to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Moses to reveal to them that God was with them.

Immediately, Jesus reminds them of a Gospel truth that is more enduring than anything they have been taught about earthly things. They are not alone. The God of Israel, the same God who delivered their ancestors from slavery under Pharaoh and exile in Babylon is with them.

This isn’t a remote God in the farthest heavens. This is God within arm’s reach. Right there in the soup with them.

So first Jesus reminds them who God is – Emmanuel, God with us - and then he commands them, “take heart” or “be of good courage.”

Karoline Lewis writes that “the root meaning of the English word “courage” is the Latin cor and the French couer [cuur] or “heart” which may explain why the English translations vary.”[i] The two other places where Matthew includes this command are when Jesus, speaking to the paralytic brought to him laying on a mat (9:2), says, “Take heart, your sins are forgiven.” And when he healed the hemorrhaging woman who had touched his cloak, saying, “Take heart, your faith has made you well.” (9:22)

Faith is never just an intellectual exercise; it is always a matter of the heart.

The Good News for us today is that the same God, the same “I am” who delivered our ancestors, and who lived among us in the flesh as Jesus, is right here with us today:

in the fifth month of a pandemic that has asked us all to stay safer at home and wear masks to reduce the spread of the virus;
in the disruption of businesses and employment;
in the uncertainty for students, teachers, parents and administrators preparing for a new school year.
In the boredom and exhaustion, and in the fear and unanswered questions, God is with us through it all.

This story of the disciples does makes me ask though, where has my uncertainty and fear kept me from seeing God’s presence in my life and in the world around me? When have I forgotten that I have witnessed God’s good in the world?  

As we go about our lives this week, may we experience Jesus’ words for us: “Be of good courage, beloved,” God is right here, within arm’s reach.”

Let us pray…
Good and gracious God,
Thank you for your forgiveness and mercy even when obstacles keep us from seeing you and we forget how near you are.
Thank you for your Son Jesus who shows us your steadfast presence and love.
Open our hearts to the good we witness in the world and show us where we can participate in your kingdom even now.
We pray in the name of your Son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus.
Amen.  

[i] Karoline D. Lewis. “Dear Working Preacher”, Luther Seminary.

Easter Sunday

Matthew 28:1-10

Grace and peace to you.

Have you ever wondered why the two women went to see the tomb early that morning? Maybe, like me, you have harmonized the different gospel stories and recall that Mark and Luke say they took spices in order to anoint Jesus, but neither Matthew nor John say that in their gospels.

So, it’s possible there were other reasons. Maybe they went for the same reasons we visit cemeteries and columbariums where our beloved rest, or that we visit monuments and public memorials as witnesses to those who died.

Perhaps they visited the tomb with eager and confident anticipation, fully expecting to meet the resurrected Christ, or maybe they vacillated between despair at the crucifixion and belief in the foretelling of his death that Jesus had made, and they went, cautiously hopeful, to the tomb.

Devotion, remembrance, witness. Despair, excitement and hope. All of these are part of the Easter story.

This Easter morning throughout the world Christians are celebrating Easter differently than we have in the past.

At Ascension, the flower cross that usually stands outside the church on Easter morning is waiting to make its appearance when we are no longer asked to stay home.

The organ is still, and no one is singing in the sanctuary.

The elements of bread and wine for Holy Communion are reserved for the day when we can gather in person again.

The kitchen is quiet and dark, without any biscuit or gravy, eggs, sausage or even coffee!

Maybe you’re thinking it doesn’t feel or sound or look like Easter.

Nearly eighty years ago when Dietrich Bonhoeffer was imprisoned in Germany, he wrote a letter to his parents, saying,

“I do want you to know that I am having a happy Easter in spite of everything. One of the advantages of Good Friday and Easter Day is that they take us out of ourselves, and make us think of other things, of life and its meaning, and its suffering and events. It gives us such a lot to hope for.”[i]

Especially today when I despair that we are not gathered together in person, I hear the angel tell Mary, “I know you are looking for Jesus… he is not here…he is going ahead of you.” (v. 5-7)

And I can let out the breath I didn’t even realize I have been holding, and be hopeful, because no matter where we are today, this is the day that the Lord has made, and Jesus has gone ahead of us.

While our sanctuary, our worship liturgies and rituals and our fellowship together are places where we find Jesus, especially on Easter morning, the angel’s words remind us there is no place that God’s love and presence does not reach and there is no death that Jesus does not conquer.

Thanks be to God. Alleluia. Alleluia.

[i] Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Letters and Papers from Prison, April 25, 1943.