Let me repeat the greeting expressed at the beginning of the worship service. It is a privilege to welcome so many people to our Easter Worship/Celebration Service. Visitor, occasional worshiper, member of the congregation—I'm glad you are here.
There's something humbling in the fact that for hundreds of years people have gathered on the Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox to celebrate the centerpiece of the Christian faith: the resurrection of Jesus. I sometimes think about all those people over all those years, numbering in the millions. Among them are intellectuals—philosophers, authors, scientists; political leaders—emperors, kings and queens, presidents, prime ministers; artists—musicians, painters, actors; and lots and lots of ordinary people, whose lives are unnoticed by historians, but who matter very much to their families and friends.
Sometimes when we gather at the beginning of winter for a very special service, I tell the congregation that the Christmas Eve service is my favorite one. It's easy to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Few historians doubt the existence of a man named Jesus who lived two thousand years ago in what we call the Mid East. It is far more challenging to preach an Easter sermon. The resurrection of Jesus raises all kinds of questions for modern people, although, interestingly enough, not so much for post-modern people. More about that on another occasion.
Easter sermons are challenging for me because the subject of Jesus' resurrection cries out for a fuller treatment than fifteen minutes will allow. N. J. Wright is the bishop of Durham, England, and he has taught at both Cambridge and Oxford Universities. His new book on hope was given broad coverage in the New York Times several days ago. His earlier book on Jesus' resurrection, published in 2003, runs to more than seven hundred pages. And I have fifteen minutes! Because of the ads we placed in some print media these past two weeks inviting people to come here if they're looking for more meaning in their lives, I've decided to be more personal than usual in my preaching.
Let me begin by saying very simply that I believe in the resurrection of Jesus. I say that after seventy-four-and-a-half years of living, and after almost fifty years of ministry in the Presbyterian Church. It's not that I'm paid to say so. It's not in my contract. I believe in the resurrection of Jesus after doing a lot of reading, a lot of thinking, a lot of reflection, and a lot of living. I don't think I'm naïve, and I don't think I'm delusional.
I take seriously the writings we call in the Church the Four Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Those four "books" arose out of many people's experience. When Pontius Pilate was the Roman governor of Judea, a well-documented historical reality, Jesus of Nazareth carried out a ministry of teaching and healing among the people of the region. He talked about God's rule, God's reign, which he said was breaking into history. He said that in such rule or reign, the usual scheme of things would be reversed: the rich, powerful, and arrogant would no longer be in control. Human beings would learn to live together in peace, with dignity and justice prevailing. Outcasts would be included. The hungry and homeless would be cared for. Officials would govern with the people's well-being having the highest priority instead of the officials' personal enrichment or personal pleasure.
Jesus attracted a following of people who learned to trust him and to believe the good news he preached and taught. They saw him change the lives of people crippled by physical, emotional, and spiritual diseases. They witnessed his confrontations with the privileged rulers who wanted to keep things the way they were: the haves oppressing the have-nots, and the guardians of out-dated rules punishing the people who dared to disobey them.
Jesus' radical message and his refusal to knuckle under to the authorities got him into trouble. The authorities succeeded in having him put to death by crucifixion, an unusually cruel form of execution. The men and women who had become his follows were disillusioned and distraught. Their hopes for a new reality breaking into human experience were dashed. There's little dispute about that much.
But then—but then—according to those four books or Gospels, on the third day after Jesus' death by crucifixion, some women went to his tomb to anoint his body with spices, a burial custom of the time. When they got there, the tomb was empty, and there was a radiant messenger, telling them that Jesus had been "raised." "He is risen," said the messenger. "You will meet him as he promised."
And many of them did meet him, as the Gospels and other records attest. He was not a ghost; he ate and drank with his friends, who recognized him even though his appearance had changed. He met many friends and at least one avowed enemy over a short period of time. Then he seemed to move on to another level of existence. He withdrew or ascended as one of the Gospels puts it.
One of the reasons I believe in Jesus' resurrection is tied to what became of the people who met him in those mysterious encounters. They were dramatically transformed—courageous where they had been timid, sure where they had been uncertain. They went to death in the arena facing lions rather than deny what they had experienced. They became a movement that swept over the Mediterranean basin and eventually the rest of the world. Their message was about the triumph of love over hate, the possibility of new beginnings for people and nations, about the ultimate victory of life over death. When I read about the beginnings of the Christian Church, it makes more sense to believe in Jesus' resurrection than to disbelieve it.
Believing in Jesus' resurrection for me grows out of my understanding that existence is not a hermetically sealed box. On my own journey through life, I have experienced new realities when I least expected them, new possibilities breaking in when the road ahead seemed blocked—"but then" moments. I no longer accept the Enlightenment idea of a closed cause and effect system. I have great respect for scientific knowledge, but I do not believe scientific knowledge has a corner on all of reality. I know how to think, and I also know how to perceive through intuition. I know how to feel, thank God, painful as feelings can be at times. Feelings can also be exhilarating and satisfying.
My belief in Jesus' resurrection rests on my trust in God, whom I know and whom I experience as Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer—my Higher Power, with whom I have conscious contact from time to time through prayer and meditation. I have no problem affirming God as Creator, and doing so does not put me in opposition to any theory of evolution. Evolution makes sense to me, and so does the belief that God is the source of the whole process.
Belief in Jesus' resurrection takes seriously the reality of death. At the time of Jesus there was a wide-spread belief in parts of Judaism that beyond death was a period of sleep followed by a general resurrection at the end of time. One friend of Jesus, a woman named Martha, alluded to that belief when she talked about "the resurrection on the last day." Jesus said to her, "I am that resurrection." For those who experienced his risen presence, on the road, on the beach, or around a table, Jesus' resurrection was the future breaking into the present, a preview of the "last day." They had no category of thought to contain such truth. They weren't expecting it. They didn't try to explain it. They simply said what they had experienced, what they knew to be true.
That's what I am doing today. I'm sharing my personal truth with you. For me, in Jesus of Nazareth a whole new reality was breaking into human experience. He announced it and demonstrated it. His resurrection was God's confirmation of it. It's a new reality where faith, hope, and love are the enduring values. It's a new reality that points beyond darkness to light, beyond brokenness to wholeness, beyond death to life that is eternal.
As we sang several minutes ago, "Because he lives, I can face tomorrow; because he lives, all fear is gone. Because I know he is the future, and life is worth the living just because he lives."
This is my story. This is my song. It is my Easter message. It is who I am and what I believe.
Thanks be to God.
Amen