I Have Seen the Lord – Sermon for Easter, 2012

Alleluia, Christ is risen! (response)

Two nights ago, some of us gathered in the sanctuary here for Good Friday services. Together we read the story of the Passion, Christ’s trial, crucifixion, death, and burial together.

We did something new this year. Instead of just one person reading the Gospel, we split it up, and took parts, and read it with different voices. We sat with each other and listened. And after the service some of you told me that you really heard the story in a way you never had before, and it profoundly affected you.

It did me too. The story about how Christ’s love and compassion for us all was so threatening to some that they would kill him. The story about how God became human like you and I, and told us how to live and how to treat one another, and the world wouldn’t hear it. The story of how the world sometimes does its worst to those who deserve anything but.

It’s a hard story to hear. It gets to us. But not long after the story ended, like the rest of you, I got in my car, and went home, and had dinner, and started getting ready for Easter morning.

Two thousand years after the Christ’s death, we have that luxury. We have the luxury of being what some call “Easter people”. We know how the story plays out, and we know that Jesus does not stay in the tomb. As much as the story affects us when we hear it again, we have that consolation. Good Friday is not the end.

Now at this point you may be saying, “You’re right…Good Friday is not the end. So stop preaching the Good Friday sermon and get on with the Easter one.” And I will.

But before I do, I want you to think about this. What if you didn’t know? What if you were hearing the story I read you this morning for the first time? What if you had lost your friend who was love embodied, and you’d driven back home not with hope, but with a gut-wrenching sorrow?

That’s what his friends were going through. He was their teacher, and they were his disciples, but they were also his friends. And they had loved him. Even the ones who couldn’t bear to stay with him for the end, they loved him.

They loved him so much, that as soon as they could they went back to his grave. Maybe just to be close to him. They were good Jews, so they would never have gone to a grave on the Sabbath, but as soon as they could they went. Mary first.

She got there and the stone that had sealed the tomb was gone. And she looked in and so was Jesus. And she runs to Simon Peter and John and tells them, and they race each other to the tomb and look inside.

Nothing. Just a few cloths that had wrapped the body.

Simon Peter and John leave Mary there. She stays, weeping, until she hears a voice: “Why are you crying?” She thinks it’s the gardner. She says, “If you took him away, if you have him, just tell me. I’ll take him myself.”

And then the voice says her name, Mary, and she knows. She cries out, “Rabbi”. And she knows it is him. And Jesus picks her, the one who stayed, and wept, and searched, and sends her to tell the other disciples what she has seen.

Mary is the first witness to the risen Christ, the first to testify to what she has seen. The first to get to share the good news.

It’s an awesome task to be given. To see the risen Christ, and to be told by him to spread the word. Don’t keep it to yourself. Go…tell the ones who need to hear it the most, the ones mourning and in pain, that I am risen. Go and tell them, suffering and pain and hate and death did not win.

Mary got to do it first. She went and said, “I have seen the Lord.”

She was the first one Christ asked to do it. But that doesn’t mean she was the last to get the job. Because every person who would follow the risen Christ gets the same assignment. Everyone who would call themselves a Christian gets asked to do the same thing as Mary: go to the ones who need to hear it the most, and tell them you have seen the risen Christ.

It was an important job two thousand years ago, when the disciples mourned for the one they thought they had lost. But it’s still an important one today.

As much as we are Easter people, much of the time we still live in a Good Friday world. We’re still a world that chooses violence, and fear, and hate, too much of the time. Though Christ is risen, we often choose to act in the exact opposite way than what he taught us.

That means that on most mornings, a fair number of people are feeling the same way the disciples must have been that morning. They’re wondering where hope has gone. They’re crying out for another way. They’re listening for any news that suffering doesn’t win. That death doesn’t get the last word. That God is so good, and so full of grace, that God doesn’t give up on the world, and the stone rolls away from the tomb.

There is a world that needs to hear that. Maybe even you need to hear that. I know there are days when I need to hear that. And I don’t think I’m alone.

And that’s what the Easter story teaches me. That love wins. And that people need to hear that. And also, that I’m one of those people.

To be a Christian is to be a witness to the Resurrection. And that’s not always easy. It’s easy to get discouraged. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed. It’s easy to get sidetracked.

But that’s why it’s so important to put yourself in the places where you know you will hear the Resurrection story again and again.

I’m sometimes asked what the point of coming to church is. Does God love us more if we come, or get angry at us if we don’t? And my answer is, “no”. I don’t think God has some sort of a church attendance checklist.

Instead, I think this: I think church matters because it’s a community of witnesses to the Resurrection. I think it matters because when I see new life, when I see Resurrection, I know I can’t keep it to myself. I have to run and tell the ones I love who need to hear it the most.

And I think it matters because sometimes, when all of life feels a lot like Good Friday, I need to go to a place where I can hear there is an Easter. I need to go where other witnesses are running to from the tomb, shouting with Mary, “I have seen the Lord.”

I need that. I think we all do. I think we all need a place where we can tell the story together. Just like we told it together, and really heard it in a new way on Good Friday, how much more powerful can the story of Easter be when we deliberately tell it together? We need to tell the story of love that triumphs over everything. We need to tell the story of the Easter that comes after Good Friday. We need to tell the story of new life where none was thought possible. And we need to tell it together. Because each of us holds a piece of that story, and each of those pieces needs to be heard.

I’m thankful for all the little Resurrection stories I’ve heard over the past year. Thankful for all the reminders that Good Friday isn’t the end of the story, and that Easter is real. I’ve heard a hundred different Easter stories in this congregation this year. And most weren’t in April.

I’ve heard of new babies born, and those who were given up for dead regaining life. I’ve heard of new families begun, and old relationships mended. I’ve heard of marathons run, and addictions overcome. I’ve heard of judgements being discarded, and anger being transformed. I’ve heard of cancer in remission, and the indomitable spirit of those who aren’t but still fight. I’ve heard of two churches becoming one, and new witnesses walking in the doors. And I’ve heard of those who once were lost but now are found, and those who helped a valley that was nearly washed away to rise again. And those are just the stories of the ones who were here. There are so many others we still want to know.

We’ve celebrated Easter in this church nearly every week. And we’ve celebrated it in our hearts even more. Don’t let anyone tell you that those weren’t Resurrections. They were, because God was there giving new life in each one of them. And I look at each one and say, “I have seen the Lord.” May it be so this year, in Easter, and everyday.

Alleluia, Christ is Risen…

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