Episcopal Church of the
Incarnation
The Sunday of the Resurrection (Easter Day) [A]
Acts
10.34-43 Psalm 118.1-2, 14-24
Colossians 3.1-4 John
20.1-18
Alleluia. Christ is risen.
The Lord is risen indeed.
Alleluia.
We gather this day in
joy: the joy that the risen Lord is with
us, and the joy that our Lord has sent His Spirit to us as a pledge that we too
will one day rise to the fullness of life everlasting in Him. Our joy is thus both present and one of
expectation; it is both participatory and anticipatory. We rejoice that, in the words of the Collect,
God gave His only-begotten Son for our redemption, and that by Jesus’ sacrifice
and glorious resurrection we are delivered from the power of sin and death.
We live by faith, but
there is always an element of the Missourian in each of us, that element which
says “Show me,” and looks for proof of the resurrection. Let’s look closer, then, at what John has to
tell us about this crowning miracle, this achievement of God’s plan.
John does not describe
the resurrection, and neither do Matthew, Mark or Luke. Like the other evangelists John describes the
risen Lord. He describes the empty tomb. He describes the tomb found empty, and angels
who explain what has happened. He even
provides a little more detail than the other evangelists, describing the burial
cloths and face covering that the beloved disciple and Peter find when they
enter the tomb. But the scene in John is
as that found in the other Gospels: the stone has been rolled back
already. The evangelists do not describe
the resurrection happening, but as an event that has taken place
already. And so, when our skeptical
instincts say “Show me,” what we are shown is the aftermath, but not the event.
We are creatures bound
by time and space, creatures of flesh and blood. But the kingdom of heaven is eternal, and
eternity is beyond time and space; it is not something that can be experienced
by our senses. The resurrection, then,
as the supreme intersection of time and eternity, as the supreme example of the
kingdom of heaven breaking into this world, is not something that can really be
described, for all words of description relate to our own senses, and these
senses are limited by time and space.
Does this make the resurrection any less real? Think of all the things in your life that are
real–they may, indeed, be the most real parts of your life–that you can’t
quantify and describe discretely. If you
try to quantify love, or honor, the best you can do in measurement is to speak
in relative terms; that love has grown less or that honor is gone. The same is true of faith. Faith is real, but can you measure it except
to observe whether or not it grows?
In John’s Gospel Mary Magdalene finds that the stone
has been rolled back from the tomb. As
in all the Gospels, the angel does not roll the stone back in order that Mary
or any other person may witness the resurrection, but in order that she and
they may witness that the resurrection has taken place already. We are shown the empty tomb, something which
is visible and describable in the here-and-now of our world of time and space,
to point to that which cannot be described.
In telling of the resurrection of Lazarus John writes of Jesus calling
to Lazarus, of Lazarus coming forth from the grave, and Jesus instructing the
people, “Unbind him and let him go.” The resurrection of Lazarus, a man dead
for four days and surrounded by the stench of death, is not described; its result–Lazarus
freed from the bonds of death and now to be freed from the bonds of his burial
cloths–is described, but this result is itself the final and most significant
sign by which Jesus identifies Himself to the people. He identifies who He is, the One who has
dominion over all things, even death. He
demonstrates His authority. He reveals
His mission, the salvation of all who believe in Him.
We can see and feel and taste bread and wine, but
the mystery of the Holy Eucharist is something that we experience not with our
senses but by faith. We can feel the
water of Baptism, but the descent of the Spirit upon us is something that we
experience not with our senses but by faith.
The empty tomb is what we can see.
The resurrection itself is beyond the capacities of human description,
and so it is perhaps helpful to think of faith as something like the
resurrection–as something we can’t measure, and which we can describe only in
terms of its presence or absence. If
faith is like the resurrection, then our lives can be like the empty tomb.
Now that doesn’t sound all that positive, does
it? My life as an empty tomb? Isn’t my life supposed to be filled with joy
in the fullness of life in Christ? It
is, and in this fullness we are to witness to new life in Christ, to the
salvation which He offers to all. That’s
how we are to be an empty tomb. Our
lives are to be a sign which can be experienced in the here-and-now, that can
be described in space and time, which points to the reality of faith, to the
reality that the kingdom of heaven breaks into this world. We are to be like Mary Magdalene, who stands
before the tomb, that Jesus may ask us “Whom are you looking for?” We are to be like Mary, who recognizes her
Lord when He calls her name; to be like Mary, who when she has seen the Lord
goes and tells of this miracle.
Matthew, Mark, Luke and John cannot describe the
resurrection itself, and must describe its aftermath and discovery. They must describe what can be seen and
experienced, to point to that which is beyond experience. Each one of us cannot describe faith itself;
we cannot describe communion with God, new life in Christ, new life in the
Spirit. But we can testify by what can
be seen and experienced. We can testify
by how we live, by how we are seen to live in faith, to live in the joy of new
life. We can testify as did Mary,
proclaiming to the disciples “I have seen the Lord!” In other words, we can testify to our
experience of God, to act ourselves as a sign which points others to the
reality of the resurrection, to the reality which answers all demands to “Show
me”.
And we can testify like Mary because we are seen to
wait on the Lord. John describes the
beloved disciple and Peter racing to and entering the empty tomb. And when they enter and see that Jesus is not
there, what do they do? They go
home. They speak to no one. But Mary?
Mary stands outside the tomb, weeping.
She waits on the Lord, and He calls her name. He calls her name, and she clings to
Him. But He tells her not to cling, for
now she has work to do. Mary, as the
“apostle to the apostles” is to go to the disciples to tell of the risen
Lord. And she does. She witnesses to her faith by what she does
and by what she says.
Each of us is called to witness to the joy of the
resurrection, in what we say, but above all in what we do. Our lives are to be the sign which
points to the reality of faith and of new life in Christ. Our testimony must be that we gather in
worship, secure in the teaching of the apostles, giving our lives over in
prayer to the Lord. Our testimony must
be that we persevere in resisting evil, and that when we fail and fall we
repent and return to the Lord. Our
testimony must be the proclamation of Mary, “I have seen the Lord,” the
proclamation of the Good News of God in Christ.
And our testimony must be that as we wait on the Lord we seek Him and
serve Him in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves. Just as the empty tomb was a sign which
pointed to the miracle of the resurrection, so let our lives be the sign which
points to the miracle that we can all participate in this resurrection. Testify to faith and joy! Live in faith and joy! Give glory to God!
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the
Holy Spirit. Amen.