Easter's Fear

Matthew 28:1-10

After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. Suddenly, there was a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightening and his clothing white as snow. For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men.

But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid. I know you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where they lay him, then go and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead and is going ahead of you to Galilee. There you will see him,’ this is my message for you.”

So the women left the tomb quickly, with fear and great joy. Suddenly, Jesus met them on the road and said, “Greetings!” They came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid. Get up and go tell my brothers that I am going ahead of them to Galilee. There they will see me.”

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Apparently, our fear matters to God. Maybe you’ve seen or heard about the notion that phrases like “Fear not” and “Do not be afraid” appear exactly 365 times in the Bible – once for every day of the year. That’s just cute enough to make me suspicious of it, but I’ve never actually counted, so don’t really know – or care – how true it may actually be.

But True things aren’t always cute and Matthew’s Gospel got me thinking differently this time around. Because, the more I spun this Easter Gospel around in my mind, the more I just kept hearing about the fear that seemed to be so much a part of what happened that first resurrection day, according to Matthew’s version of the story, anyway.

What I mean is, this all took place in relative darkness, remember, just as day was dawning. And, as Matthew tells it, an angel showed up in a flash of lightning. The earth quaked. The guards at the tomb shook and then froze with fear. The women, both of those Marys, must have looked terrified because they’re told two times not to be afraid – once by that angel (who I’ve come to imagine as a First Century Mr. Clean, all shiny and white, crispy and clean), and once again by Jesus (who, I imagine, looked and smelled just exactly the opposite, after his murder and a couple long days in the grave).

Who wouldn’t have been afraid in the middle of all that?

But when I hear a lot of Christian people preach and teach or talk and post things about “fear” as it relates to faith… God… Jesus… and days like today, the “fear” too many of them are trying to protect me and you and others from isn’t the same as what I hear from Jesus.

For instance, I saw this little ditty in my Facebook feed just this week:

If you end up in a burning hell for all eternity, it won't be because you have a tattoo, or because you have a nose ring, or because you drank beer, did drugs or smoke cigarettes, or because you spent time in prison.

It won't be because you didn't do enough good deeds. It won't be because you didn't belong to the right church. It won't be because of that dumb thing you did that you don't want anybody to know about.

It won't be because of what anyone else did to you.

It will be because you refused to receive Jesus Christ (God the Son) as your personal Lord and Savior!

HE has already paid for all the stupid and crazy things you have done and all the stupid things you are going to do when HE died FOR YOU on the cross and rose again!

HE offers salvation as a FREE GIFT because, let's face it, if it was up to us to earn it, we would have no chance.

The gift of salvation is there for you to receive. The DECISION is TOTALLY UP TO YOU. The price for your sins has been paid, the way to heaven for you has been made.

Know this - Not making a decision IS making a decision.

[And this is how you know it must be true.] Copied and pasted. You should too.

It’s very well-intended. And I understand what is trying to be shared – the idea that the love of God doesn’t have anything to do with tattoos, nose rings, good deeds or religious affiliation. But the premise of it all is as impossible as it is hypocritical: that our eternal salvation is a.) “personal,” and b.) that it depends on a decision we were just told we are incapable of making. It’s theology my dad would say is a mile wild and an inch deep. And what makes me really afraid, is my suspicion that it’s being preached in more churches than not out there this morning.

Because, I say, don’t come at me with the threat and potential of ‘burning in hell for all eternity’ and follow it up with words of grace and the promise of a free gift, ONLY IF I’m smart or strong or faithful enough to make a right choice. One of these things is not like the other. You can’t have it both ways. This is religious fear-mongering. It is theological whiplash. It is a lie. And it’s nothing like what Jesus ever says or does – especially not on that first Easter morning.

The point of today – the message of Good Friday’s cross and of Easter’s empty tomb – is precisely that we are not up to this challenge, you and I. We can’t muster this kind of faith. We are terrible at choosing wisely or faithfully, all of the time. And because of that, God, in Jesus, made a choice on our behalf. God chose the HELL of suffering and death that was Jesus’ crucifixion so that we could see the depth – not of HELL, but the depth of God’s love for us. God made the decision that finds us here today, because humanity has proven incapable of it again and again and again.

So, this morning, when Jesus tells the women not to be afraid, I imagine some of it had to do with the earthquake and the glowing angel and their presumption that they were seeing a ghost. But I wondered, too, this time around, if what he really wanted them to not be afraid of was life as they would come to know it, now that they had encountered LIFE, instead of DEATH, on the other side of the empty tomb.

In other words, as I like to say it, Jesus wasn’t ever trying to scare them away from Hell. He was always … only … trying to love them into Heaven.

Jesus isn’t trying to scare us away from Hell. He’s always … only … trying to love us into Heaven.

And our response to life on the other side of that kind of grace can be scary sometimes. So, I hear Jesus saying to the Marys today:

Do not be afraid, but things are about to get real…

Do not be afraid, but things are about to change for you…

Do not be afraid, but everything is different from now on, for you … and me … and us … and the world … now that THIS has actually happened.

Do not be afraid, but you might find yourself doing things and saying things and going places you never thought you’d do or say or go, before.

Do not be afraid, but go and love those people who did that to me on Friday, that’s the only way they’re ever going to believe it.

Do not be afraid, but go and forgive Peter – and “my brothers” – for denying and deserting and doubting me.

Do not be afraid, but go and do justice and love kindness and walk humbly in a way that should have even more meaning for you now.

Do not be afraid, but go and forgive your enemies and love your neighbors and feed the hungry and comfort the lonely and set the captives free.

Do not be afraid, but go and remind everyone – again and again and again, if you have to – that you women were the first to hear this Gospel good news. It’s your story to tell, just as much as it is theirs.

Do not be afraid, but go and beat your swords into plowshares and your spears into pruning hooks and your weapons of war – no matter what you call them or how much you love them – into garden tools and instruments of peace, instead.

Do not be afraid, but let your light shine into the darkness of racism and through the shadows of homophobia and more brightly than oppressive systems wherever you find them until equity and justice and fairness rule the day.

Do not be afraid to work for a purpose, not a paycheck. Do not be afraid to be more generous than seems reasonable. Do not be afraid to be who and how God created you to be.

Do not be afraid to rest when necessary, to say “no” when you must, to ask for help when you need it, to grieve deeply, to hope desperately, to trust that God’s got this … and that God’s got you … especially in those moments of darkness, just before dawn, when you’re not sure that could possibly be true.

Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid.

Everything is different on the other side of Easter’s empty tomb. And as unsettling and as scary as that may be, God’s good news is that the only things “banished to Hell’s eternity” are the sin and shame and death and fear that breed there but that should not… cannot… will not… keep us from living most fully into God’s grace-filled, justice-laden, hope-infused, peace-ful new life, that’s promised to and meant for all people, on this side of Heaven and beyond.

Amen. Alleluia. Happy Easter.

The Coffin Confessor

Luke 24:1-12

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb taking the spices they prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the entrance to the tomb, but they didn’t find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them.

The women were terrified and they bowed their faces to the ground. The men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He’s not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you while he was still in Galilee that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, crucified, and on the third day, rise again. Then they remembered these words and, returning to Jerusalem, told all of this to the eleven and all the rest.

Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles but these words seemed to them an idle tale and they didn’t believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb. Stooping and looking inside, he saw the linen cloths and went away, amazed at what had happened.

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I heard an interesting story on the This American Life podcast recently about a guy from Queensland, Australia, who calls himself “The Coffin Confessor.” His name is Bill, and he was actually a private investigator by trade, before he picked up a side-gig some time ago that led to this new, much more interesting job title. What’s cooler than being a private investigator, you wonder?

Well, this guy was investigating some financial matters for a client who, unbeknownst to Bill, was dying of a terminal disease. As they became friendlier and talked more, his client made an off-hand comment about how he had some things he’d wish he could say at his funeral – for everyone to hear. He explained that he had thought about making a video of himself saying everything he wanted to say to whoever showed up at his funeral, but that he suspected his family wouldn’t actually play it. Bill, just trying to be funny, suggested that he could crash his client’s funeral and say whatever it was he wanted to be said – and “The Coffin Confessor” was born.

So, when his client – now friend – died, Bill showed up at the funeral, not knowing a soul in the church. When the dead guy’s best friend got up to give the eulogy, Bill stood up from his pew to interrupt him – as he was instructed, contracted, and paid to do.

And, because he’s from Australia, it’s more interesting and fun to hear Bill tell it…

“It was a blur to start with. I mean, I was sweating, profusely. And I've got to say, it was -- you've got your time on your phone. And I'm looking at the clock, and I'm thinking, OK, his mate's about to do the eulogy. And I knew I had to get up within one minute, two minutes at most, to interrupt the eulogy.

“And his best mate stands up, and he starts blubbering and telling everybody how much he loves his best mate and starts talking about a certain particular time that they shared. And it was that moment, I looked at my clock, and I went, oh, it's nearly two minutes in.

“And in that church, there were long pews. And they were timber. So when you stood up or you even moved, they made a sound. And yeah, when I stood up, it made a sound. And obviously, everyone just looked straight at you, you know? I froze, to say honestly. I stood up, and I just stood there and went, OK.”

Well, since we’re in church I have to stop it there, because what Bill had to say, and the words he had to use to say it, are a little much for some people on Easter Sunday. The short of the long is that the man Bill interrupted – the dead man’s best friend? – had tried to sleep with his friend’s wife, while his friend was dying. And Bill’s job – the Coffin Confessor – was to call him out for it, in front of God and everyone. Bill was also asked tell the dead man’s brother to “take a hike” that day, in much more colorful language, for not being around or available to him and to his family for the previous thirty years.

So “The Coffin Confessor” did his job, said his peace on behalf of the deceased, folded up the letter from which he’d been reading, laid it on the casket at the front of the church, and walked out.

The dead man’s wife and daughter appreciated what he’d done and thanked him for it later. A relative of the dead man, who was also terminally ill, found it so meaningful, she hired him to do something similar at her own funeral when the time came. And so did others. And so, a star – or at least a new career – was born.

See, Bill has found himself crashing funerals ever since, for anywhere between $2 to $10,000, and for all kinds of reasons – some big, some small – some petty and some profound – “some good, some bad, some funny, some sad,” as Bill tells it.

At another funeral Bill was hired to air some dirty laundry about an affair between neighbors. Another time, an atheist asked Bill to let everyone know that the religious funeral they were participating in – that he just knew his parents would concoct on his behalf – was nothing he ever would have wanted. Another time, Bill helped a dead, muscled, tattooed biker come out of the closet as bi-sexual to a room full of other muscled, tattooed – very surprised – bikers just like him. Once, a dying man asked Bill to apologize to his ex-wife and let her know how much she meant to him. More than once, Bill has surprised a dead person’s family with a surprise windfall of money they never knew was coming.

So, “the Coffin Confessor” made me think about Easter and what brings us here today, not because of what this Good News might inspire us to have said on our behalf at our respective funerals … after we’re dead and gone. But because of how our faith in what brings us here today – even if that’s small – might inspire all that we say and do on this side of the grave differently … so that it matters for us and for the world, here and now, right where we’re still living.

What I mean is, God doesn’t want us to wait to start telling the truth – TO START LIVING OUR TRUTH – to start living into the fullness of who we are. Yes, the Good News of Easter is about life after death and resurrection on the other side of eternity – whatever in the world that means for you, for me, for all of us as believers.

But, precisely because of that promised eternity, this Good News, this Gospel of new life, matters just as much here and now, if we really let the truth of it have its way with us.

Because of God’s overwhelming grace, I mean, we don’t have to wait until after we die to be generous with our time or our talents or our treasures …

Because of God’s abundant mercy, I mean, we don’t have to wait until we’re dead to seek justice – for ourselves or others in this world …

Because of God’s promised love, you don’t wait to come out of the coffin as it were. Come out of the closet now, for crying out loud, and live and love as God created you to live and love…

Because of Easter’s good news we are called to apologize now… offer forgiveness now… extend mercy now…. share grace now…. on this side of the grave…with the people for whom it can still matter and make a difference in this world.

Bill Edgar, “The Coffin Confessor,” provides a valuable service, it seems, for which there is a growing market apparently – he’s written a book; he’s in conversation about a movie; there’s talk of a reality TV show, as you might imagine. And the appeal for it, as he describes is, is that “mic drop” moment he gets to deliver on behalf of the deceased: when the dead have their say, when the deceased get the last word, when he walks out of a funeral, leaving all sorts of emotions – “good, bad, happy or sad” – in his wake.

But Easter reminds us that God always gets the last word when it comes to life and death in this world and the next. And because God’s last word is always something about grace, mercy, forgiveness, peace, new life and second chances …

Because God’s last word proclaims victory over death, forgiveness of sins, and life everlasting …

Because our “Coffin Confessor” is Jesus of Nazareth – crucified and risen for the sake of the world – our lives on this side of it all – right here and now – can be more honest and truthful, more fulfilled and life-giving, more holy and hopeful, and much more like the paradise we long for, the eternity that belongs to those who’ve gone before us, and the heaven that will be ours whenever the time comes.

Amen. Alleluia. Happy Easter.