3-POINT EASTER SERMON

A Sermon for Easter Sunday, Year A

April 24, 2011

Pastor Laura Gentry

Matthew 28:1-10

Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Risen Lord, Jesus Christ.

In real estate, they say there are 3 rules to remember. These 3 things will determine whether the piece of property is going to sell easily or not. And the three rules are: location, location, location. It matters most where a piece of property is located. Even if it’s old and crumbling down or has out-of-date appliances, it will sell if it is in a desirable location. That’s what it’s all about. Do people want to live there? And conversely, you can have a beautiful property with everything perfect but if it isn’t in a good location, it won’t sell very well. Indeed, it's all about location, location, location.

And today, as you might have noticed, it is Easter Sunday. This is the highest, holy day of the church year and so I’d like to preach something really inspiring so you’ll be able to understand and appreciate this incredible day. In order to do so, I’m going to preach an old-fashioned 3-point sermon. That’s the traditional model of preaching, by the way. The pastor is supposed to fit every important scriptural matter into 3, easy-to-remember points. That way, the congregation will be able to hear it, go home and say: “Yes, I can still remember the 3 points of the sermon.” And then rattle them off to one another. Now typically, I don’t use this form because I usually have more to say than can be fit into 3 points.

But today—because it’s Easter—I’m sticking with the 3 points. I’ve got to tell you about the Easter message in a way you can remember. Here are the 3 points I’ve come up with after great contemplation on the Gospel text. Are you ready? There may be a pop quiz later in the service so you might want to take notes. They are: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen!

Each of these points is important so I’m going to start with the first one. The story begins on that first Easter morning. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary make their way to the tomb of Jesus. What do they expect to find? I suppose they expect what you would expect if you went to visit the grave of a friend: the grave would look like a grave. It would be undisturbed. Perhaps there might be flowers there, but generally things at graves look pretty much the same whenever you go to visit them. You don’t expect your friend to be risen!

And yet that’s exactly what the Marys encounter! It’s highly dramatic in Matthew’s telling of the story. There’s a great earthquake, which shakes up their perspective and probably everything else in the surrounding area. And then an angel of the Lord descends from heaven before their eyes, and with superhero strength, rolls back the stone of the grave and sits on it. There he looks at them—dazzling like a lightning bolt!

Can you imagine how shocking it would be for these two women to witness all this? It’s incomprehensible, really. The guards behavior tells you how disarming it is. They panic so much they pass out—but the women, the women keep it together (perhaps that's why Jesus appears first to women in all 4 of the gospels). The angel, then, speaks to them and says: “Do not be afraid; for I know you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has been raised from the dead, as he said. Come and see the place where he lay.” So that brings me to the first point of my sermon: He is risen!

They have come to the place of death and found life! This is a game-changer for Mary and Mary. The fact that Jesus is risen completely changes their world. Not even death could defeat their Lord. He is risen. Though they are still afraid and unsure about what this means for them, they know that nothing will ever be the same.

Then, the angel commands them to go quickly and tell the disciples that Christ is risen. He explains that Jesus is going ahead of them to Galilee. And so they respond immediately—leaving the tomb, it says, with fear and great joy as they run to meet the disciples. Obviously, it is very emotional for them. It’s like when you cry and laugh at the same time. As humans, we can have a complicated mix of emotions. The women are afraid because this news is so new and so riveting, but they are filled with great joy at the same time.

Suddenly, Jesus meets them on the road and says “Greetings!” They are so elated that they come right up to him, take a hold of his feet—confirming that he is, indeed, risen bodily—and worship him. This brings me to my second point: He is risen. Not only have the women witnessed the empty tomb, the earthquake and the stone being rolled away by an angel, but now they have experienced the risen Jesus themselves. For them, it is completely clear that Jesus is risen.

Then he says to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.” Go and tell, he commands them. Jesus wants everyone to know that he is risen. Death has been defeated for all who will believe. Resurrection is not just for Jesus, but for every one of us, which brings me to my third point: He is risen!

So the women go and tell and those they tell go and tell and those that they tell go and tell. And in this way, the message of Christ’s resurrection is passed down all the way through the generations to you and me today. We have been given the good news of all 3 of these important points: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen!

What does it mean for us? I mean, can we comprehend even one of these points? The fact that Christ is risen may seem confusing, unbelievable, and even irrelevant. But as Christians, we understand that in the resurrection, God turned everything around. Jesus was put to death but God said a resounding “NO!” to death by raising him. Sin and death were defeated and everlasting life was made possible for all who believe in him.

So yes, because he is risen, you and I have the assurance of heaven. That’s all well and good, you say, but what about the problems I'm facing right now? I need Jesus' help in this very moment. What does the resurrected life look like?

Well, let's take a look. For example, you say: what about the price of gasoline? If it hits $4 a gallon, I won't be able to afford to go anywhere. And your response to this should be: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen! The price of gas is important, but not nearly as important as the new life of Jesus within you. That's the thing that matters most. Everything else is secondary and you can trust that God will get you through it.

But what about that grief you’re facing? You say: This is the first Easter without my husband. I didn’t think grieving him would be so hard. Sometimes I wonder if I can even go without him. And your response to this should be: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen! Because of your faith in Jesus, you know you'll be reunited with your deceased loved ones. This separation, which hurts so much, is only temporary. Because he is risen, you are not without hope and healing.

Then there’s the economy. It’s so unstable, you say, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my job. I can’t imagine how devastated my family would be if I lost it. And your response to this should be: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen!

There’s also health or lack thereof to think about. I know I’m failing, you say. I’m so afraid I’ll end up being a burden to my kids but I don’t think I can live alone much longer. And your response to this should be: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen!

Just as location makes all the difference in real estate, the fact that Christ is risen makes all the difference in our lives. I am not just talking about the hereafter. Easter starts now. Resurrection matters right in the midst of our troubled lives. Everything that you and I face—whether it’s mundane or catastrophic is resurrected with Christ. That means, God is with us—giving us new life to face whatever we have to face with confidence. If your location is with Christ, then nothing is impossible. You can hold your head high in faith and proclaim: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen!

The angel commanded the Marys to go and tell the good news. May we be filled with their joyful enthusiasm and go and tell it too. And I think we can cover all 3 points of the resurrection: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen!

Amen!

LAUGHING WITH LAZARUS

A Sermon for the 5th Sunday in Lent, Year A

John 11:1-45

You know how in a race, runners often get a second wind and sprint to the finish line? Well, that’s what we’re doing liturgically. Here we are, just about to the end of our Lenten season with Holy Week starting next Sunday and suddenly, it’s more Lenten than it’s ever been. Though we’ve got daffodils and crocuses blooming outside, spring is not in today’s readings—at least not at the beginning of them. They start with death.

In our first reading, we’ve got dry bones and not just one set of them—a whole valley of dry bones occupy Ezekiel’s vision. These bodies are so long dead that there’s no more rotting flesh, they’re just dusty bones. The people of the exile feel very much like these long-forgotten valley of bones. “Our hope is lost!” they cry out. “We are cut off completely!” Death and hopelessness.

Even today’s Psalm, 130, comes from a place of sadness. It is often read at funerals. “Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD. Lord, hear my voice!”

And the gospel lesson centers around the death of Lazarus who has now been dead four days. A rotting corpse, he is buried in the tomb. Like the exiles, it seems clear that hope is gone for those who love him.

These themes of death and hopelessness are all too familiar to us. This has been a season of death with international news of natural disaster in Japan to war in Libya and increasing violence in Afghanistan. Death is always in the headlines. It’s touched and reshaped our lives too. We know all to well the pain of losing a loved one to death. Mortality is not just a theory—it is a harsh reality for us. Smelly corpses, dried up bones, prayers of anguish and desperation—these scriptures cry out the hardship of our own lives. They remind us or our own difficult Lenten journey.

So Jesus continues his Lenten journey by going to see his friend Lazarus. He’d gotten word that his old pal was sick, but for some unknown reason, he dilly dallies for two more days before making his way to their house—just a couple of miles outside of Jerusalem. It seems almost careless of him to be so tardy. Understandably, when Jesus finally does arrive, they seem a bit upset with him. Many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them about the death of their brother. You cannot imagine this scene without the sound of weeping. Not only would the sisters be weeping—along with the friends who have come—but there would also be the presence of professional mourners. In Jesus’ day, the bereaved would hire people whose job it was to give dramatic expression to their grief. Their theatrical and ritualistic cries would bring everyone to emotional catharsis. Needless to say, Jesus is walking into a house of death and deep sadness.

Jesus taps into this emotional energy and takes it one himself. It says that he becomes “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved” (John 11:33). In the original Greek language, this description is even more visceral. It says Jesus snorted like a horse. English translations can’t quite seem to capture the depth of Jesus’ pain. But as he makes his way through the crowd of mourners, Jesus is grieving openly and he seems shaken to the core.

It does seem odd that Jesus would react this way, especially since this story comes from the Gospel of John. In this book, Jesus is always in control. He knows ahead of time that Lazarus would be dead—it’s not like he’s surprised to find him entombed. And Jesus always knows the end of the story, so he has full knowledge that death only has a temporary hold on Lazarus and that he will very shortly call him out of the grave so there’ll be a “happily ever after,” fairy-tale-type ending. And as for all those weeping mourners—I’m sure Jesus knows they are for hire so they wouldn’t upset him. Why, then? Why is Jesus so upset?

As we have made our way through John’s Gospel this Lent, we’ve seen Jesus reveal himself to be many incredible things including God’s Word, bread, living water and light. In this story, we see that he is even more than these. He is himself the “the resurrection and the life” (John 11:25). As the resurrection, he has come to put an end to death. We come to realize in this story that Jesus doesn’t much like death. The two of them go together about as well as oil and water. Jesus detests death because he is the opposite of it. Just as we hate death, Jesus hates it. Here in the context of his dear friendship with Lazarus, Jesus’ passion is stirred. He snorts like a horse and he weeps openly. We can picture the tears streaming down his face as he faces down death. He can’t even stand the fact that it has temporary power over his friend. And so he demands the stone be rolled away and he calls Lazarus forth—as he calls us forth—from death to life.

The playwright Eugene O’Neill wrote a fictional account of what happened to Lazarus after this dramatic resurrection. I mean, the bible doesn’t tell us. But he must have been different after that. Four days in the tomb and then his death is reversed. O’Neill’s conclusion is that Lazarus laughed. He experienced death and found out—first-hand—that it has no sting. From then on, he is so free of fear that he constantly laughs. The chorus sings of him:

Lazarus laughs!

Our hearts grow happy!

Laughter like music!

The wind laughs!

The sea laughs!

Spring laughs from the earth!

Summer laughs in the air!

Lazarus laughs!

Lazarus himself declares to the confused on-lookers: “Laugh! Laugh with me! Death is dead! Fear is no more! There is only life! There is only laughter!”

This dramatic story in John’s gospel foreshadows, rather dramatically, Jesus’ own death, burial in a cave tomb, and subsequent resurrection. All of the scriptures for today point us to Easter. The psalmist finds hope in God, the the prophet Ezekiel’s vision ends with the resurrection of the whole valley of dry bones. The Spirit of God comes upon them and they grow flesh and are brought back to life—a vast army that stand up on their feet!

So yes, there’s no denying this Lenten journey is leading toward death. There are more weeping women to come, a body to bury, a stone to roll before the tomb. But death will not have the last word. On this Sunday when the scriptures stink of death, we still acknowledge the “little Easter” that each and every Sunday is. They point us to the great victory of the Resurrection. Soon another stone will be rolled away and, snorting at death, the one who is the resurrection and the life will himself be resurrected. And because he is our savior, his resurrection will be our own.

So let us laugh with Lazarus. Even as we sprint on into Holy Week—a somber time in which we must hear again the story of our Lord’s death. We know that death is dead. Jesus snubbed death and gave us victory over it. Death is dead! There is no more fear! There is only life! There is only laughter! Amen.

© Laura E. Gentry 2011