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.

Tombs for the Living

John 11:1-44

Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. Mary was the one who anointed the Lord with perfume and wiped his feet with her hair; her brother Lazarus was ill. So the sisters sent a message to Jesus, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” But when Jesus heard it, he said, “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” Accordingly, though Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, after having heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.

Then after this he said to the disciples, “Let us go to Judea again.” The disciples said to him, “Rabbi, the Jews were just now trying to stone you, and are you going there again?” Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Those who walk during the day do not stumble, because they see the light of this world. But those who walk at night stumble, because the light is not in them.” After saying this, he told them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I am going there to awaken him.” The disciples said to him, “Lord, if he has fallen asleep, he will be all right.” Jesus, however, had been speaking about his death, but they thought that he was referring merely to sleep. Then Jesus told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead. For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.” Thomas, who was called the Twin, said to his fellow disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”

When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days. Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, some two miles away, and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them about their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, while Mary stayed at home. Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.” Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this” She said to him, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”

When she had said this, she went back and called her sister Mary, and told her privately, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.” And when she heard it, she got up quickly and went to him. Now Jesus had not yet come to the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him. The Jews who were with her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary get up quickly and go out. They followed her because they thought that she was going to the tomb to weep there. When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” Jesus began to weep. So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.” Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, “Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.” When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”

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As good as it is, I don’t think the most important thing about this story has as much to do with the miracle of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, as we might believe. I might be wrong about that, but it’s not the most important thing for me, at least, for a couple of reasons.

First of all, I don’t think Lazarus’ resuscitation is the most meaningful thing about it all partly because it doesn’t happen often enough in ways we wish it would, or think it should – or maybe even deserve, sometimes – as far as I’m concerned. Who hasn’t wished, hoped and prayed for someone you love to have a second chance to live again after a disease or an accident or even after a long life, well-lived? We would almost always call on Jesus, just like Martha and Mary did, to do for our loved ones, just what he did for Lazarus. Would we not? But I haven’t heard of many successful returns on that investment.

And the second reason I’m not sure Lazarus’ walk from the tomb is the most important thing about it all is that – as marvelous and miraculous as that magic trick must have been to witness – and for us to wonder about, still – it didn’t last forever. Lazarus died again, eventually, so there’s that. Bah humbug. And for that reason, some people consider all of this more of a resuscitation than a resurrection, but that may be splitting theological hairs.

So I always have to remind myself that this story may not be as much about resurrection from the dead as I’m inclined to think, at first. Maybe it doesn’t have so much to do with Jesus’ power to give physical life back to someone who has lost it. After all, what we’ve heard about this morning isn’t the be-all and end-all of resurrection stories, remember. We’ll hear about that one in a couple of weeks on Easter Sunday.

So what could be the point – other than that resurrection stuff? Where is some meaning here I can sink my teeth into?

I’m thinking maybe it has as much, or more, to do with new life as we know it – right here for those of us still living, moving and breathing in the world, on this side of our respective graves. What Jesus shows us – and what he shows Lazarus, and the sisters, Mary and Martha, and anyone else who was watching that day outside of Bethany – is that tombs aren’t just for dead people. (That sounds like a commercial doesn’t it? “Tombs – they’re not just for dead people anymore!”)

See, you might say the disciples are living in their own kind of naïve tombs about the fullness of Jesus’ ministry – trying to protect Jesus at every turn and not understanding what it means to walk in the light, in spite of the darkness around them. Mary and Martha were living in tombs of grief and despair and blame and lack of faith about what had happened – missing their brother, angry at God, frustrated with Jesus, and all that goes along with that. And of course, there was the crowd from town, presumably mixed with people of all kinds living in all sorts of proverbial tombs – some curious, some suspicious, some apparently murderous – over all they’d heard and seen from Jesus up until now.

So, what about us? If tombs aren’t just for dead people, where do they show up in our lives and what are they doing there? Like so much else when it comes to the faith we wrestle with, there are as many answers as there are people to ask those hard questions.

So, I wonder where are our tombs? What is it that keeps us from really living – right here, right now?

- Maybe it’s an addiction or a bad relationship

- Maybe it’s fear of failure or fear of success

- Maybe it’s some kind of bigotry or a lack of information or a lack of faith

- Maybe it’s something in our past or something in our present or something we know is on the way

What kind of caves are we afraid to come out of?

- a cave that’s comfortable because we’ve been in there for a while?

- a cave that seems like the right place to be only because we’ve never known anything different?

- a cave that holds a secret or two no one else knows and that we’re too afraid to tell?

What is it that we find ourselves buried beneath?

- Work or family obligations?

- School or stereotypes?

- Debt? … doubt?

- Guilt? … shame?

- Bad decisions? … bad luck?

Maybe it’s something you can’t even put a name on. There are all sorts of things in our lives and in the world that keep us entombed and buried and anything but living the life that God would have for us.

And the more time I spend with people – particularly for some reason, people like us in the Church – the more it seems to me that God’s greater challenge isn’t to raise us from the dead once we’ve stopped breathing. It seems sometimes like the greater miracle is for God to wake us up and call us out of the graveyards of our Habit and Tradition; to carry us out of cemeteries of Comfort, and Complacency and Low Expectations; to dig us out of tombs of Hopelessness, Sadness and Despair.

But that’s what I see God doing this morning – as much for Mary, Martha and the people of Bethany, all of whom were alive and breathing – as for Lazarus, who was dead as a doornail, and starting to decay!

He calls them all out of their tombs and invites them to live again, differently, on the other side. So maybe that’s the invitation we’re all called to hear, to wonder about, and to pray for faith and courage enough to respond to every day – and maybe, especially – as we head into these remaining days of Lent this time around.

From what …

Out of what …

Toward what … are you being called?

“Come out” of what’s expected and do that thing, volunteer for that project, get involved in that ministry, sign up for that class, take or leave that job, finally.

“Come out” of what’s always been safe and comfortable. Give away that gift or offer up your time or extend that mercy.

“Come out” of your pride and ask for help or ask for direction or ask for forgiveness.

We all have things that keep us entombed – that keep us in the dark – that keep us locked up or locked away from what God would have us do or be or become. This morning – and every day that we gather around Word and sacrament and in the presence of one another – we are hearing God’s call to us…

…to come out of our tombs. …to step into God’s light. …to throw off the darkness and the trappings that tie us up and keep us down and prevent us from living most fully, as God intends.

So, as we wait and long and hope for Easter, let’s plan to “come out, come out from where ever we are.” Let’s hear God calling our name in a way we haven’t before. Let’s accept the invitation for a change and step into a new way of living right where we are.

Let’s be unbound by the good news that even though tombs may not be just for dead people anymore, neither are things like resurrection and new life and second-chances. We all stand to be revived, resuscitated, raised up in some way to get a taste of everlasting life – not just after we die – but on this side of heaven, too, thanks to the grace we share and that calls us by name, in Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen