Tuesday, April 3, 2012

"Jesus is raised, he is not here, he has gone ahead, and he will meet you in your future..."

Scripture: Acts 10:34-43; Isaiah 25:6-9; Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24; 1 Corinthians 15:1-11; John 20:1-18; Mark 16:1-8

Last Sunday we read the Passion liturgy from Mark's gospel, a gospel frank and to the point. We are given a stark account of the betrayal, arrest, trial and suffering of Jesus. In Mark's account of Easter morning, again there are no superlatives. When Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Salome entered the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus, they saw a young man dressed in white, who simply told them "He is raised. He is not here." The young man told them to go and tell the disciples,  that Jesus would meet them in Galilee. In this gospel account, they did not do as the young man said because they were afraid, "for terror and amazement had seized them." In the Greek, it is “trauma and ecstasy” — τρόμος κα κστασις — that seizes them).

Why were they traumatized and in ecstacy? The Rev. David J. Risendal in his blog "One Little Word," says : "They are afraid, and indeed they should be. Not afraid that the authorities might kill them, just as they killed Jesus. Not afraid that he isn’t who they thought he was. Not afraid that he is now gone, and has left them behind. But afraid that what the young man in the white robe says to them just might actually be true. Afraid that the one certain reality in their lives (death) is now no longer certain. Because if death is no longer certain — if the dead don’t stay dead anymore — then everything has changed.
 
Indeed, everything has changed. Long-held expectations of what the Messiah would be like, and what would be accomplished during a Messianic reign: gone. The comprehensive system of sacrifices and offerings that have brought comfort to generations of believers: gone. The certainty that God can be understood, and defined, and fit within our own expectations: gone. The absolute finality of death: gone.

And replaced with what? With the announcement from a stranger in a white robe, who declares that Jesus is raised, he is not here, he has gone ahead, and he will meet you in your future. Ironically, the future in which he promises to meet them takes place where many of them began: in Galilee. Past and future, alpha and omega, this one who has confounded the powers of death surrounds their days, and calls them into a life that they cannot even begin to imagine or understand. Terror and amazement; trauma and ecstasy; indeed!

Do we dare believe this proclamation? Do we dare believe that Jesus is as present in our beginnings as he is in our future? Do we dare believe that he calls us, too, to meet him where we go? To meet him in the stranger we feed or clothe? To met him in the sojourner we welcome? To meet him in the transgressor we forgive? Or perhaps even more powerfully, to meet him as we, ourselves, are fed, clothed, welcomed, forgiven…

This week, on Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, the faithful will gather to accompany Jesus on the journey of his last week in life. We will submit our hearts, once again, to this ancient and sacred story. May we, also, stand at the barren cross and the empty tomb on Easter morning, filled with terror and amazement — with trauma and ecstasy — at what God has done." And may we also be prepared to meet him, where he chooses to meet us, where we are, here and now, just as we are.

Amen.

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