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 Temptations - Not Just My Imagination"

Matthew 4:1-11

Then Jesus was led up, by the Spirit, into the wilderness, to be tempted by the devil. He fasted forty days and forty nights and afterward, he was famished.

Then the tempter came and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.” Jesus answered him saying, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’

Then the devil brought Jesus to the holy city and placed him atop the pinnacle of the temple and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you,’ and ‘on their hands they will bear you up so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’” Jesus said to him, “Again, it is written, ‘Do not put the Lord, your God, to the test.’”

Then the devil led Jesus up a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world, and their splendor, and said to him, “All of this I will give to you, if you will bow down and worship me.” Jesus said to him, “Away with you Satan, for it is written, ‘You shall love the Lord, your God, and serve only him.”

Then the devil left him and suddenly angels came and waited on him.

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I decided this time around that I’ve always given the devil – “the Tempter” – in this pretty popular story from Scripture more credit than him deserve. I mean this story of Jesus in the wilderness being tempted by Satan has always seemed to me like a depiction of a cosmic, sweeping, grand battle of wit and wisdom between the powers of good and evil; between the Son of God and the personification of all Wickedness; between the Source of all light and goodness, in Jesus, and the Depth of all darkness and sin, in the Devil.

I’ve imagined and seen many and various depictions – movies, paintings, television mini-series, Sunday School felt boards and coloring books – of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness that have fed this grandiosity over the years. Maybe you have too.

So, in my mind it’s like Jesus leaves the safe, comfortable confines of Capernaum in Galilee, is led out into the wilderness of some expansive desert (sand, dust, and dry, scorching heat) – or maybe it’s an oppressively dark forest like the haunted one in the Wizard of Oz – and, as if in a time machine or a whirlwind or a cloud – maybe on a magic carpet, I don’t know – he gets transported from place to place, with the Devil in tow, for these moments of temptation, these other-worldly tests of will, to do battle with a Force … with an Adversary … the very Prince of Darkness.

And, famished from a forty day fast, Jesus is tempted to turn stones to bread. With a chance to fly, Jesus is tempted to leap from the top of the temple in Jerusalem and be rescued by angels. With a bird’s-eye view of the whole, wide world, he’s given the option to rule over all of it.

And each time, rather than take the bait, Jesus proves not only his resolve, his restraint and his faithfulness, he proves how well he knows his Scripture.

“It is written – one does not live by bread alone.”

“It is written – do not put God to the test.”

“It is written – worship God, and God alone.”

And when it’s all said and done… when he has passed every test… when he has resisted whatever the Devil can dish out… I imagine Jesus wiping the sweat from his brow, maybe collapsing in a heap like Rocky Balboa in the corner of the ring after the fight, and being tended to by angels – fed and nourished, satiated with a cold drink, his brow wiped, his feet washed, his shoulders massaged, fanned – perhaps by the cool breeze of ten-thousand angels’ wings.

And I’ve imagined Satan disappearing in a cloud of thick darkness; or being swallowed up by an earthquake, descending to the place of weeping and gnashing of teeth from whence he came; maybe with an everlasting roar of anger and rage; maybe with a shaking of fists and a belch of fire; certainly with his proverbially pointed tail slithering between his legs.

But what if I’ve been overthinking it? What if we’ve made more of these temptations … too much of this wilderness and of the ways Jesus is tested by the evil that surrounds him? What if, like so much else in Scripture, the special effects get in the way of the story? And what if all of that makes it hard to find the meaningful place where the rubber of it all meets the road of our lives of faith in this world?

I mean, I’ve never known real hunger – so stones-to-bread isn’t something I’d find all that tempting, let alone possible.

I have a very real, legitimate fear of heights – so that stunt from the pinnacle of the temple is never happening.

And I’m no Vladmir Putin so ruling over the nations isn’t my thing.

So, if you and I are supposed to find some common ground with Jesus today – if all of this temptation stuff is supposed to mean something for us – maybe we can think differently about it for a change. Maybe it’s smaller and closer to home than I’ve imagined all these years.

What if the devil in the wilderness … what if all of those tests … aren’t as cosmic or as confounding as the magic of turning stones to bread or as dramatic as a swan dive from the top of the temple or as sweeping and world-domination?

What if the devil in our wilderness, with all of those questions … with the many and various ways over the course of any given day that we’re tempted to follow the wrong path, to choose the wrong, to opt for darkness rather than light … what if our “Tempter” is less like a fire-breathing snake with a pitch fork and more like a toddler, following us around the grocery story – pestering us with questions about every. little. thing. until we buckle under the weight of that persistence?

Doesn’t it seem like that’s more the way temptation weasels its way into our hearts and minds and lives in this world? Small things. Things we can justify or excuse or ignore … until we can’t anymore. Even the big stuff that tempts the most desperate addict can happen in seemingly insignificant increments. Whether it’s food or alcohol, porn or nicotine – the temptations come one nibble, one sip, one click, one puff at a time, right?

But our temptations don’t have to be so tangible, obvious or immediately destructive as all that. Maybe it’s that little white lie we tell or the gossip we engage; that angry outburst or deliberate, selfish disengagement from someone who needs our attention. Maybe it’s the selfishness or pride known only to us, God and the tempter, himself. There are as many temptations to choose something other than the God-pleasing faithfulness we long for as there are people in this room and seconds in a day, I suppose. Big, small and everywhere in between.

So, what if Jesus’ temptation to turn stones into bread is for us not about satiating our own hunger after a forty day fast, but a call to consider using our abundance and excess to share bread with the world, instead?

What if Jesus’ temptation to leap from the temple isn’t about seeing if God will rescue us from our next emergency, but more about an invitation to remember that we’re already being saved, right where we are, in the midst of whatever stress or struggle befalls us?

What Jesus’ temptation for power isn’t about ruling the world for you and me, but, instead, about how we treat our kids or our classmates; our spouse or neighbor; our colleagues and co-workers; or our fellow Cross of Gracers, maybe?

What if the temptation to stand on that very high mountain, able to see and to long for all that isn’t ours is really about simply being grateful to enjoy the view, for a change?

I guess what I’m saying is that – in these Lenten days – as we try to focus more deliberately on our journey of discipleship; as we make our proverbial walk to the cross of Good Friday and as we hope for the good news of Easter’s resurrection; that all of this can seem so big; so grandiose; so out of reach, out of touch, out of this world sometimes. But that it’s supposed to matter here and now, day to day, right where we live.

And the choices we make, right where we live, might seem small in the moment and by comparison to what we read about in Jesus’ temptations. And that may make them easy to dismiss or disregard as having any great consequence for us or for others. But, this time around, I’m reminded that that’s not the case.

Today’s story shows us that Jesus chose sacrifice, so that we can, too. Jesus chose vulnerability, so that we can, too. Jesus chose humility, faithfulness and the ways of God, so that we can, too. And in the days ahead, he’ll keep showing us that – even when we can’t or won’t or don’t always choose what’s right or best or most faithful – that God’s grace, love, mercy and forgiveness choose us anyway, every time.

Amen