Sunday, April 28, 2013

"No Distinction"

April 28, 2013
Acts 11:1-18

1Now the apostles and the believers who were in Judea heard that the Gentiles had also accepted the word of God. 2So when Peter went up to Jerusalem, the circumcised believers criticized him, 3saying, "Why did you go to uncircumcised men and eat with them?" 4Then Peter began to explain it to them, step by step, saying, 5"I was in the city of Joppa praying, and in a trance I saw a vision. There was something like a large sheet coming down from heaven, being lowered by its four corners; and it came close to me. 6As I looked at it closely I saw four-footed animals, beasts of prey, reptiles, and birds of the air. 7I also heard a voice saying to me, 'Get up, Peter; kill and eat.' 8But I replied, 'By no means, Lord; for nothing profane or unclean has ever entered my mouth.' 9But a second time the voice answered from heaven, 'What God has made clean, you must not call profane.' 10This happened three times; then everything was pulled up again to heaven. 11At that very moment three men, sent to me from Caesarea, arrived at the house where we were. 12The Spirit told me to go with them and not to make a distinction between them and us. These six brothers also accompanied me, and we entered the man's house. 13He told us how he had seen the angel standing in his house and saying, 'Send to Joppa and bring Simon, who is called Peter; 14he will give you a message by which you and your entire household will be saved.' 15And as I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell upon them just as it had upon us at the beginning. 16And I remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said, 'John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.' 17If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?" 18When they heard this, they were silenced. And they praised God, saying, "Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life."

Sermon: “No Distinction”

When you have a vision, you can’t live the same way again.  I know it often seems like visions, such as Peter’s in our Acts reading this morning, only exist on the pages of the Bible, and not in the ordinary days of our lives.  But I know that this is not true.  I’m going to tell you the story of my vision, a story I don’t normally share with others and that I’ve never preached on before.  But when you have a vision, like Peter’s, it’s not meant to be kept to yourself.  It’s meant to be shared.

So, here I go:  I was seven years old, and it was April 11, a Spring day not unlike today.  I was worryingly small for my age and so my doctors determined that I needed to be tested for a growth hormone deficiency.  They did this by giving me an i.v. and dropping my blood sugar rapidly, so that my body would then respond by producing growth hormone, if it could.  It couldn’t.  When that i.v. went in, I felt immense pain.   And then I did not feel anything.  My mother tells me it was 12:34 p.m.  The pain just stopped, and I had a vision. 

I saw Jesus – honestly, I did – and he looked kind of like the Jesus in my Precious Moments Children’s Bible, a comforting Jesus for a child to see.  He was sort of glowing, and there was the outline of a gold city behind him.  He looked at me, a gentle smile on his face, and, with eyes that knew the very depths of my soul better than I ever could, he shook his head, “no.” 

And then I hurt again, and my parents’ hearts started beating again.  I had a grand mal seizure, and basically died.  Except that I didn’t.  My mother still calls me on   April 11 every year, wishing me a happy “second” birthday.

When you have a vision, you can’t live the same way.  I don’t force my faith on those who don’t believe Jesus is real because I happen to have actually seen him.  I don’t believe that’s what my vision was meant to do.  But I never doubt that he is there, especially in those moments of greatest pain, whether our eyes can see him or not.

When Peter had a vision of beasts and hunger, of the Spirit making “clean” what culture and religion had called “profane”, he shared it.  My vision meant new life, and a purpose.  Peter’s meant the same.  You see, the church was dangerously close to dying in that moment. 

Though the Spirit had been poured on all people, the followers of Jesus had decided to keep to their own, only sharing the good news with other Jews.  They were basically going to just stick a new label on an old identity, without changing or including anyone different from them.  When the church does that, it dies.

Peter woke up from his vision and was immediately called to change his behavior because of what he had seen and heard.  Strangers from Caesarea came and the Spirit told him to go and to “not make a distinction between them and us.”  And so Peter made no distinction, but shared the good news with them. 

He later explained it to the disciples, saying, “If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?” 

All of their prejudice, all of their racism and pride, all of their self-righteousness, dissolved in the face of such a vision.  And the church that nearly died at its childhood…began to thrive.  Because of a vision and the courage to follow it. 

Only then, only when outsiders looked in on this strange motley crew of Jews, Gentiles and Greeks, of poor and rich, of young and old, of female and male, did they give them a title.  They were the birth of something completely new, and so like all newborns, they needed a name.  It was… “Christians.” 

It’s incredibly important to realize that this diverse gathering did not call themselves Christians, like some sort of banner of pride or mark of faithfulness.  They simply followed a vision, and let others call them whatever they chose.

Like I said earlier, visions do not just live in the pages of this book.  They are all around us, anywhere the Spirit is calling us to remember our belonging to God and one another, any time the Spirit is calling us to “not make a distinction between us and them” and “not call profane what God has made clean.” 

Many in these days speak about the church as a dying entity, as a symbol of a time-gone-by that will never be revived again.  Perhaps this is true.  But there is only one way to discover life again, one which I learned as a seven year old, and have tried to learn again and again ever since. 

It is not perfect programming, or a congregation of people who look, worship, vote and think exactly alike.  It is not a lucrative outreach effort or a competitive mission project.  The only way to new life is a Spirit-led vision of welcome and diversity, and the courage to follow it. 

Do we believe that the Spirit is still speaking?  Do we believe that God is still bringing visions, those that are otherworldly and those that come in the form of an ordinary moment? 

For the sake of the life of Christ’s fractured church, for the sake of a death-dealing and sorrowful world, for the sake of a community desperate for acceptance and purpose, for the sake of our very lives, I hope so.  If we do believe, then all of those things we have hindered God with: bigotry and anger, self-preservation and us-and-them politics and religion, they will melt away until all that is left is an inclusive love, fired by a vision, that cannot be described as anything but “Christian.”  Alleluia! Amen.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

"Both Lamb and Shepherd"


April 21, 2013
Revelation 7:9-17
9After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands. 10They cried out in a loud voice, saying, "Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!" 11And all the angels stood around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, 12singing, "Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen."

13Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, "Who are these robed in white, and where have they come from?" 14I said to him, "Sir, you are the one that knows." Then he said to me, "These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. 15For this reason they are before the throne of God, and worship him day and night within his temple, and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. 16They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; 17for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes."

Sermon: “Both Lamb and Shepherd”

The book of Revelation is the Mel Gibson of the Bible: we know there’s a stroke of genius in there somewhere, but it’s hidden in so much bizarre behavior, it’s hard to find it! 

The church has largely ignored this book (except Tim Lahaye who has used it as a meal ticket in his literalist Left Behind series).  But a great theologian gave it much attention: his name was Johnny Cash.  Let’s have a listen.  This is called “When The Man Comes Around.” 

(Play until 3:00)

Isn’t it remarkable how Johnny describes horrific apocalyptic events in such an upbeat way that you want to two-step?

Before we dive into this strange story of Revelation, there are a few important things to know about this trip of a book. 

First, it was written in 95 CE, and though it is told from the perspective of John on the island of Patmos, it was probably authored by someone who admired John, and so they used his name.  The language style (kind of like the “handwriting” of biblical texts) tells us someone different wrote this vision.  But that doesn’t make it any less important. 

Second, it was written as allegory, which is a helpful corrective to those who think of this book as a blueprint for the End Times.  Several places named are of course real places in the time of the writer, and several creatures are given the characteristics of rulers of that time.  It speaks of God pouring wrath upon the earth in judgment, but this was not meant to be a picture of future vengeance.  It was meant to be a call for present repentance of all people, especially politicians and religious elite of their day.

Third, if it seems weird, it’s mean to be!  It was actually not read in the early church, it was acted out.  We see this in vivid creatures, brilliant colors, repetition of the number 7 and the breaking of the separation between heaven and earth.  In a word, it is dramatic.   Perhaps I should have had Susan Rush come act this out for us this morning! 

And finally, the book of Revelation centers around one main character, one whom Johnny Cash unfortunately left out of his telling of it (favoring those horse characters of course!)…the Lamb, Jesus.

So, when we read this text with all of this in mind, it tells a very different story.  It tells the story of a people who felt that political maneuvering and hypocritical, lukewarm religion were evils that infuriated heaven into responding.  It tells the story of a great multitude from every nation who gathered before the Lamb in the greatest act of resistance to evil: worship. 

It tells of heavenly beings who endured the hardship of earth, described as “they who have come through the great ordeal.”  It is not a story of radical escapism from the pain of the world for the faithful, sitting back and watching as humanity destroys itself, and waiting for sweet Jesus to come and take them away.

It is the story of radical incarnation, where heaven experiences the pain of earth, where the Lamb is not a mute sacrificial offering, but a willing participant in earthly suffering, not just on the cross, but over and over again, wherever evil is at work. 

It tells the story of a time that we desperately long for, especially after the bombings in Boston and explosion in Texas:  a time when hunger and thirst, tears and sorrow will be a distant memory. 

But Revelation’s apocalyptic word is not just a promise for some unknown day when “the man (Jesus) comes around,” to set things right once and for all.  It is a promise for today. 

It is the promise that the One who willingly gives of himself, entering into the greatest heartbreak and injustice this world can offer, isn’t just the Lamb. 

He is also the Shepherd:  the One who leads us beside still, calm waters when the salty waters of tears rise all around and within us. 

The One who restores our soul when it seems irreparably torn by sorrow and injustice. 

The One who brings us the comfort of a rod and a staff to show us how to take the high road and not descend into rocky paths of bickering and hatred. 

The One who sets a table before us in the presence of our enemies, feeding us with hope instead of the fear that we are force-fed from every media outlet these days. 

And he is the One who relentlessly follows us with goodness and mercy all of our days.  We see this in the aftermath of tragedy, though it is often ignored for the more troubling details.

Stories of the goodness of the hundreds of marathon runners who lined up and gave blood at the Red Cross station on site, providing enough for all who were injured.  The story of people like Carlos Arredondo, an immigrant citizen of the U.S. who lost his son in Iraq and now advocates for an end to war.  When the explosions happened, he ran towards the chaos to help, and held a tourniquet on the injured leg of a stranger, saving his life with his bare hands.   There are so many others who we’ll never know: the firefighters, doctors and nurses, clergy and volunteers who work to bring healing, to bring the goodness of God where it is most desperately needed. 

Revelation reminds us that even and especially in times when disaster is all around us, the goodness of the Lamb and Shepherd is still with us, working through ordinary people, bringing light in even the darkest of places. 

So perhaps when life seems most bizarre and unpredictable, when we do not know what the next day will bring, we should embrace the drama of this book, not to find an escape from this life, but to find the strength to follow our Shepherd right into the middle of its pain and brokenness.

We may not be able to wipe every tear away, but we can bring comfort to those around us who silently suffer.  We may not be able to make hunger and thirst extinct, but we can ease someone’s hunger and thirst.  We may not be able to escape the great ordeals of our days: terrorism, cancer, strained relationships and injustice, but strengthened by our Good Shepherd, we can endure them. 

Now is the time to claim that the God of all people is bigger than the violent actions of any one person, that the things that bind us together are much stronger than those which divide us, and that our Lord is both a Lamb entering into suffering willingly, and a Shepherd guiding us through it.  That, in these days and in the days to come, is a revelation.  Alleluia!  Amen.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

"Double Vision"


April 14, 2013
Image Source
ACTS 9:1-20
Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest 2and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem. 3Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. 4He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" 5He asked, "Who are you, Lord?" The reply came, "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. 6But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do."7The men who were traveling with him stood speechless because they heard the voice but saw no one. 8Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. 9For three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank.
10Now there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, "Ananias." He answered, "Here I am, Lord." 11The Lord said to him, "Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying, 12and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight." 13But Ananias answered, "Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem; 14and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name." 15But the Lord said to him, "Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel; 16I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name." 17So Ananias went and entered the house. He laid his hands on Saul and said, "Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit." 18And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, 19and after taking some food, he regained his strength.
For several days he was with the disciples in Damascus, 20and immediately he began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, "He is the Son of God."



Sermon: “Double Vision”
When I was a teenager I got "saved" several times.  Many of my friends were “accepting Jesus” at these massive Christian concerts with rock bands heavy on gestures (pointing up to heaven) and hair gel, so I went along with it.  There was a lot of crying and going down to the front to pray, but for me, I never left feeling any closer to God.

I did love talking about God, though, and so when one of those friends invited me to a Baptist youth Bible study, I went.  At one point the pastor singled me out.  He got right in my face and said, voice booming with biblical authority, “Are you SAVED?”  I just kind of stared at him, and then slowly responded, “I’m Presbyterian,” I said.  “We don’t always do these big moments of ‘accepting Jesus’…God’s been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.”  “But do you feel it in your heart??” he boomed.  (This is called evangelical bullying, y’all.) 

I began to get irritated at this point.  With all the snark of a teenage girl, I sighed and said, “Of course I feel it in my heart.”  “But what MOMENT did you accept Jesus??”  Again I responded, “I’m Presbyterian” (as if that meant anything to him at all).  I explained, “We rededicate ourselves to God all the time…each Sunday in worship, at confirmation, any time.”  And then I got really sarcastic, y’all.  I looked up right into his face and asked, “So, do you want my most memorable experience of accepting Jesus or what?”

He did not bother me anymore. 
As frustrating as I found that pastor to be, he did have a point.  You see the core of his theology about salvation is here, in our text this morning: the conversion of Saul on the road to Damascus.  This story is often heralded as the epitome of the “conversion moment.”  You are walking down a road, sinning in all sorts of terrible ways.  But then, bam!  Jesus calls to you, and your life is never the same again.  Many Christians have taken this text as the blueprint for the “salvation formula”:
1.    Admit your sin.
2.    Pray a little prayer to accept Jesus into your heart.
3.    Make sure you really got #1 & 2 right.

Perhaps I still have some of that snarky teenager within me, because I can’t help but question that interpretation of this text.   You see, I can’t find any place in this passage where Saul admits his sin.  Jesus tells him that he is guilty of persecuting his followers, but we never hear Saul say, “Yep, Jesus, I have done that.  I’m sorry.”  Saul should have, of course, but Jesus saved him anyway. 

Moving on to number 2 of that formula, we are told to pray a little prayer to accept Jesus.  But that doesn’t happen here either.  In fact, this story seems to be a lot more about Jesus accepting Saul than Saul accepting him.

But the biggest issue I have with the traditional salvation “formula” that I was so forcibly taught, is that it seems to me to be fiercely individualistic.  God is a relational God, and of course our relationship with God is, in a way, personal, just as our relationship with a sibling or friend is personal.  But salvation?  That is not personal at all.  At least not in this story. 

You see, if Paul’s salvation was a “personal” experience, he would have spent the rest of his days wandering blind alone on that road to Damascus.  Because salvation is a communal activity, God used the people traveling with him to lead him by the hand into Damascus.   Saul then had a vision of a man named Ananias coming to bring him new sight, and at the exact same time Ananias had a vision as well.  Jesus sent Ananias to go lay hands on Saul, that he might regain his sight.  If salvation is a private, personal activity, why did God send Ananias to be a part of it?  Why didn’t God just magically make those scales fall from Saul’s eyes? 

Ananias slightly-reluctantly meets Saul the persecutor and something miraculous happens.  I’m not talking about blindness being cured.  The miracle is that Ananias calls his fiercest enemy, “brother.”  It would seem he had his own conversion experience in our story, too.  In an act of forgiveness, the Holy Spirit heals.  Saul became part of the Way of Jesus, saying “He is the Son of God.”

And we know much of the rest of the story…that Saul became Paul and that Paul became one of the greatest instruments of the good news who ever lived. 

I wonder what Paul would say if we were to ask, like that intense preacher of my youth, “When were you saved, Paul??”  I like to think he would say, “On the road to Damascus.”  But I don’t think he would stop talking then.  I think he would also say that he was saved when Ananias lovingly touched his eyes in an act of grace, showing him how hatred had blinded him all of his life.

I think he would mention that community of disciples who called him “brother” and baptized, fed and taught him. 
He might describe that day in Antioch when the newly formed church commissioned him as a leader.  He might tell us about his time in prison when God used a guard to save him, or how the Spirit was with him as he traveled through danger and hardship to tell the good news to lands far and near.

I think Paul would tell us that salvation is real, and that it is a matter of life and death.  But I don’t think he would have described it as “personal.” 

God brings salvation through unlikely people to show us how fear, pride and regret have kept us from seeing our brother or sister clearly.  How we have simplified salvation into a formula to tame the wildness of our gracious God, or to simply tame our own insecurity.  How we as the church universal have often spent our energy breathing threats instead of joyfully declaring, “Jesus is the Son of God” in humble service and authentic words.

Striving to be quite different than that intimidating pastor who bullied me into salvation, I will not ask y’all when you were saved, because I believe God never stops saving us.  But I will ask you this:

When have you participated in the salvation of another, whether it be the promise of life eternal or the promise of food for today and justice for tomorrow? 

When was the last time you gave God thanks for saving you?  When was the last time you thanked someone else for their role in your ongoing story of salvation? 

Thanks be to the God who opens our eyes to those around us, to the Spirit who stirs community in the most unlikely of places and to the Savior who never ever stops saving us.  Alleluia!  Amen.

"A Stranger in the Dark"


March 31, 2013 (Easter Sunday)
Gospel Reading: John 20:1-18
1Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. 2So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” 3Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. 4The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. 5He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. 6Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, 7and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. 8Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; 9for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. 10Then the disciples returned to their homes.

11But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; 12and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. 13They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” 14When she had said this, she turned round and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. 15Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”

16Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). 17Jesus said to her, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” 18Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”; and she told them that he had said these things to her.

Sermon: “A Stranger in the Dark”

You can’t understand a story unless you know the person telling it.  The story we are seeking to understand this morning is Easter, and the person telling it to us is not John, but Mary Magdalene.  So, let’s get to know this Mary, shall we?

Let’s see what we already know about her. 

We’ll start simple: what was her last name?  Magdalene, because she was from a town in Galilee called Magdala.

What did Jesus heal her from?  She was possessed by seven evil spirits. This was a common way to describe mental illness in her day.

What was her profession?
Tradition says she was a lady of the night, but there is no biblical basis for such an idea.  Some assume that she was the adulterous woman Jesus saved from stoning, but that happened after Jesus had come to Jerusalem, after Mary had already been reformed.  So, we don’t really know what she did.

Was she married?  Oh, that’s a doozy of a question, y’all, one that Dan Brown fired up again in the recent past.  Some discarded gospels from the 2nd century suggest that she was actually married to Jesus, but we’re not going to go there this Easter!  According to our texts, she was not married, nor did she have children, which was controversial in its own way.
Was she at the crucifixion?  In all of the Gospels, yes.
Did she prepare Jesus’ body for burial and then follow it to the tomb?  Again, yes.
Did she witness the resurrection and then go and share that news with the disciples and through them, with the world, including us?  Yes.

 But by Easter afternoon, she is erased from the story.  We know nothing else.  As James Baker wrote, “The Gospel writers probably did not intend to make Magdalene such a mystery that subsequent ages would be tempted to elaborate on her frail biography. By making her less than she was, the Gospels inadvertently made her more.”

So, what do we know of this woman who first saw our Risen Lord?  Well, less than we thought we did, but enough to be grateful for her witness.  We know the most important part of her history: she was there.  She was always there.

She was there on a dark morning in a cemetery, alone.  We all know what it is to go to the grave of a loved one, desperate to feel closer to them.  And we all know that the “darkness” John spoke of was not just about the lack of a sunrise.   As she neared Jesus’ tomb and saw it empty, her first thought was not resurrection.  It was robbery.  She ran to get help.  “They have taken my Lord!” she breathlessly told the disciples, but after checking things out, they left her there at the tomb, alone again.  Except she wasn’t exactly alone.   She saw two angels in the tomb!  Her response showed the depths of her despair, echoing the only words she could.

“They have taken my Lord!”  She said again to the angels.  She then turned and saw whom she thought was the gardener, a stranger in the dark.  “Please,” she pleaded with him. “If YOU have taken my Lord, tell me where you have laid him!”

Eyes clouded with tears, Mary did not recognize Jesus in that stranger.  But then he spoke her name, “Mary.”  “Rabbouni” she shouted, which means “my Teacher.”  Her arms acted of their own accord and hugged him.

Jesus sounded unkind when he said, “Don’t hold on to me, but go and tell!” but I don’t think he was.  I think he knew that time was of the essence: his revolutionary movement of grace and peace was at a critical moment.  Did Jesus rise again on the third day as he promised or was he just another false prophet?  There was no time for clinging embraces and warm words of assurance: Mary was immediately sent out. And she went.  The last words we hear from her are her most profound: “I have seen the Lord.”

So who was this weeping Mary Magdalene, whom Jesus chose to first appear to?

She was the one who saw a stranger in the dark, and recognized him as he called her name.  She was the one who taught us that it doesn’t matter how people misrepresent you, what matters is that you tell God’s story to all who will listen.  But, like I said earlier, you can’t understand a story unless you know the person telling it.

And so we must tell the story of Easter within our own: not leaving the resurrection in a garden tomb, but by seeing God’s new life here, now, in our own lives.  When has God come to us as a stranger in the dark: as a kind nurse, as a patient teacher, as a compassionate child?  When have we brought new life to strangers we will never know through acts of humble kindness and generosity?

Resurrection is not just for Easter.  It is for every moment that lasting life defeats death, that forgiveness and grace defeat retaliation, that light defeats darkness. 

And it is for the seemingly insignificant moments of our days, when strangers in the dark turn out to be our Savior and judged sinners turn out to be prophets.  The story of Easter is true, but only so much as it is a part of our story.  We have seen the Lord!  Now, let’s go and tell.  Amen.