SERMON, March 23, 2008 EASTER SUNDAY

MATTHEW 28:1-10

“He has been raised from the dead and indeed is going before you….” Happy, happy Easter!

St. Matthew is the man of the earthquakes. The great earthquake that came over the land at Jesus’ death—when the earth shook, the rocks were split and the tombs were opened. The cataclysmic event of the crucifixion felt even in the earth itself. Jesus who came to judge us by his forgiveness, by his wild and radical inclusion of everyone—everyone is loved by God—you are forgiven get up and walk!—Jesus judged by the powers that be of his day, judged and sentenced and then killed on the cross. The One who came among us to show us the boundarylessness of God’s love—so threatening was he to the powers that be—that they had to condemn him to death. God among us subjecting Godself to our judgment and rejection. The earth shook when it happened. Nothing was ever the same.

And now we read of the Easter morning quake. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to the tomb to see—Matthew tells us. To see the place where he was laid. To keep vigil as they had at his death—from a distance. They came to see and ….. there was a great earthquake. And, I love this image of the terrifying sight of an angel coming down from the heights, rolling back the stone and simply sitting down on it. No, sweet cherub this one, baby-faced, wings aflutter. No this one sits before them bristling with lightening—clothes white as snow. Refined no doubt by the refiner’s fire. It was enough to set the guards shaking and then to grasp them so by fear as to render them useless. Mute, stone still.

Maybe you’ve lived through an earthquake. Many of us who live in California have. But the biggest earthquake I ever experienced was in southern Chile many years ago. It was in the 6+ range, and the buildings shook—and kept on shaking. It seemed to go on and on—I could hardly keep standing: I reached for the wall but that wasn’t comforting, it was moving. There was nothing I could rely on. My utter fragility was so very clear. I was afraid. The place where I lived was a place still full of the evidence of a huge earthquake that had struck maybe ten years earlier—it had demolished whole towns, and its tidal waves had brought boats miles and miles up rivers depositing them willy-nilly on the land. The people in the town where I lived were very much attuned to the slightest tremors—they’d learned the hard way. At the first hint of movement beneath their feet, and they were out of there! To the streets—they rightly enough didn’t trust their buildings to survive. An earthquake makes it crystal clear that we are not in charge—not the greatest power on earth.

It’s so hard to talk about Easter—the mystery and the promise of Easter. In our country today we celebrate Easter with bunny rabbits, spring flowers and eggs. Valid symbols of new life all right—but they mislead us I think. They suggest that Easter is about the regenerative powers of nature. The way that winter moves into spring. Seeds buried deep begin—even this early—to pop up out of the ground and we see that good old reliable new life before us.

Matthew says that that is not what Easter is really about, at all. He does so with these images of earthquakes—the shaking of our lives to their foundations—the shaking loose of our long-held beliefs, our business-as-usual ways of living. The rich get richer, the poor get poorer, the dead are dead, the one with the most guns wins. You know these ways. I know these ways. Easter summed up as a bunny or a chocolate egg is a passing fancy. Life goes on. Nothing really has changed.

I don’t really have to go into the details—they are ingrained in our minds. So much talk of our need for security—as a nation, as families, as individuals. How we need to be safe, to play it safe, to protect ourselves, to be insured, to have money in the bank, to live in gated communities, to distrust the person who is different—because you never know. Underlying all this emphasis on security is fear. You and I are reminded in countless ways to live lives based on fear, lives under threat. The threats seem infinite in number –you name it: cancer, terrorism, foreclosure, loss of jobs, schools closing, collapse of our medical system, aliens, the heartbreak of psoriasis…. whatever!

And you know, for all the talk of security and strength and winning—these days as we hear more and more about our state’s financial crisis, the recession, the cost of the war, corruption in high and low places—we begin to wonder—just how secure are we? How safe? Are the signs we see just the usual—business as usual—or are they signs of a deeper malaise? Are our systems beginning to collapse around us?

In the midst of this bad news world comes the resurrection. The earthquake—the angelic host—with earth-shattering, business-as-usual/shattering, hum-drum/shattering, there’s-nothing-we-can-do/shattering, this is how-it-is-and-always-has-been/shattering news. News about God. who God is. how God acts. What God is up to in this world of ours.

This is not about the resuscitation of a body. It is not about friends of Jesus missing him so much they imagine he is still with them. It is not about a fairy tale. It is not about spring. It is about God and God’s action.

And it’s about earth quake. About turning our low expectations on their heads. About our lives so often lived in near-despair or in “let’s pretend it isn’t so”—about those very lives being opened to the truth—God’s truth. As the crucifixion revealed that God had entered the very depths of life unto death. God had come among us judging our judgment by forgiving us. The resurrection reveals that death does not have the last word. Death is not the last word. Judgment, rejection and killing are not the last words. Vengeance is not the last word. Nor is security. Nor is fear.

Do not be afraid. It’s hard to let go of business as usual. It’s hard not to just come here on Easter Sunday and then go home or go back to work or wherever and expect nothing to be different. It’s hard. Hard not to just shrug it off as a nice myth. We are so accustomed to business as usual. To our low expectations. To pretending to trust the systems we have come to distrust. To letting the powers that be tell us what is truth. We get so stuck in how its always been.

“Do not be afraid. Jesus has been raised. He goes before you. You will see him. Tell my brothers. They will see me.”

In spite of the angel’s admonition, the women are afraid. They leave the opened tomb with fear… and great joy! But, their fear is not like ours--the fear of a bomb on an airplane or of having my house burglarized. It is the fear of amazement. Their fear is the fear of God who has come and turned them inside out and upside down—set their sorrowing hearts aflame. God who makes a way when there is no way. God who comes to those who had abandoned him. God who forgives those who had rejected him. This is what we’d call awe. And, it’s coupled with joy. Transcendent joy.

Jesus goes ahead of us, showing us the way. Inviting us into the truth that lies beneath the surface of our everyday lives. Easter is God’s great laugh I suppose. Not sarcastic. A genuine belly laugh. All that Jesus kept saying, kept teaching, kept living, kept praying: “God is love. Turn around, let go of business as usual, don’t pin your hopes on the powers that be. Food for the hungry. Wine and water for the thirsty. Hands reaching out to heal that bear the scars. You are forgiven. You are made for one another. You are God’s beloved. Nothing can separate you from the love of God.” Nothing. Not even death.

What would our lives look like if we began once again to give ourselves to the Jesus who lives? If we opened ourselves to receive the gift of Easter? This truth of God. This resurrection God. Could we step out trusting the forgiveness that rose from the grave to make us into more forgiving people? Could we step out trusting the God who has drawn near to us to free us to draw near to others? even to those who are different? or to those who have hurt or abandoned us? Can we let our own wounds become sources of healing for others? In this world of so much longing for the pure gift of love can we embody in our own lives the resurrected life?

“The earth is quaking. (It’s the BIG ONE!) Do not be afraid. Jesus has been raised. He goes before you. You will see him.“ Alleluia. Alleluia.