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An Easter Sermon by The Rev. Hartshorn Murphy April 11. 2004 - Text: Luke 24:1-10 Shortly before his death, Jesus entered the Holy City of Jerusalem with a huge crowd of his followers - the desperate poor who had lost their land to exorbitant taxes, widows and orphans of husbands and fathers slain by Roman soldiers, harlots and tax collectors, despised shepherds - sinners all- but sinners who saw in this fiery itinerant preacher from Nazareth: Hope. Provocatively they stripped branches of palm from the trees and threw their cloaks along the dusty path and sang King David's coronation hymn: "Hosanna! Hosanna!" All the frustration and anger of centuries of oppression and exploitation by Babylonians, Persians, Greeks and Romans was focused like a laser beam on this week in history, for Jesus would -well, would what?! No one knew for sure. But as the people recalled the Passover story, they hoped that God would intervene again in human history and Jesus, the New Moses, would dislodge the corrupt Caiaphas from his high priestly throne and the Jewish Diaspora - from Egypt, Syria, Italy, Northern Africa, and Galilee - would be restored to places of honor alongside the privileged Judeans. Herod would be replaced by a righteous king of compassion and justice of the legacy of David and Solomon. And the Nation itself would be restored to a place of honor among the nations of the world. Indeed, over time, all nations would call themselves blessed through Israel. The spark was struck in the powder keg of history and Jesus was consumed by it. Convicted of blasphemy by the High priestly caste because he had questioned the final authority of the Mosaic law and the power of the Temple cult and convicted by the Roman authority for sedition; Jesus was summarily executed by a method of state execution reserved for slaves, criminals, foreigners and insurrectionists - a brutal death aimed at discouraging Nationalism among a subjected people. His closest friends hid themselves against capture by the Temple police and planned on slipping out of the City at the end of Shabbat - back to the Galilee, to quiet, safe and predictable lives with wives, husbands and children. Early on Sunday, as dawn was breaking and the male disciples yawned in fitful sleep, three brave if foolhardy women made their way to vendors in the market place and bought spices to do the last right thing by their friend Jesus. On the way to the grave site, they wondered if the Roman solders would take pity on them and help roll the massive stone seal form the opening of the tomb Joseph of Arimathea had loaned them for this hasty burial or would they be beaten or raped or worse. And entering the place of death on Sunday morning, they - and we along with them - enter the crucible of the intersection between time and eternity, between this age and the age to come. There are no accounts of resurrection given in the Gospels because no one was there to see it. There emerges no unified, simple picture: Jesus appears to be both spirit who passes through solid doors and is unrecognized by his dearest companions and who vanishes before their eyes. Clearly, it is the stuff of visions and altered states of consciousness so valued by every world culture save ours in the West. To encounter Jesus is to enter a thin place in which the veil between this world and the next is thin indeed. At other times, Jesus invites people to touch him and is hungry and asks for breakfast. How are we to make sense of these gospel stories? To do so, we need to go further back in history. The earliest to give testimony is Saul of Tarsus, a fierce and brilliant persecutor of the followers of Jesus. While on a mission to seek heretics and bring them back to Jerusalem for punishment, Saul has an encounter on the road to Damascus with a blinding light and a voice that says: "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?" It takes Saul three years of reflection and study of the Hebrew Scriptures to figure this out. He travels to Jerusalem and talks with Peter and James and the others. And in writing of this event over twenty years later, in the year 57, he says that he was passing on that which was given to him regarding the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. His letter tells us that resurrection is a transformation into an entirely new mode of existence. On this first letter to the church in Corinth, the usually meticulous writer is lifted to height of sheer poetry as he writes: "So it is with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown in dishonor is raised ion honor. What is sown in weakness is raised in power. It is sown a physical body, it is raised a spiritual body." (I Corinthians 15:42-43) Of this metamorphosis, Paul writes: "We must all be changed." And so the disciples were. Only an event of incredible spiritual power could change huddled frightened men and women into bold and fearless missionaries. Only resurrected life - not resuscitated, resumed life but new and unimaginable life - could change sad and despairing men and women into people with radiant joy and flaming courage. Over time, they and those who in the coming generations that would follow them in the Way; would come to understand that in the resurrection, Christ was delivered from the limitations and particularities of human life and is able to be present to his people in all times and in all places. Most especially, those who leaned their lives on him experienced his presence in worship, in times of reconciliation and renewal and most powerfully, in the sacraments; especially in the Holy Communion of which Jesus said: "Do this to be re-membered (made a member again) to me." And so, this resurrected life is a continuing sign of the in breaking of the Kingdom of God on earth, in human history. If the resurrection lacks credibility in this age in which we live, it is because Christian disciples in this age - in all the churches of Jesus Christ - have failed to live into the power and promise of that new life. We have failed to commend to others the faith that is in us. In this despairing and cynical age, hungry hearts and thirsting souls have gone unfed by the witness of willing mouths and the works of willing hands. The light of Christ burns brightly from an Empty Tomb on Calvary but far too many contemporary Christians are far too self concerned and self absorbs to engage in mission and service and in acts of compassion and love in response to that light. Far too often, the power of the good news has been compromised by Christian arrogance and privilege. A fire blazing ages ago is today but burning embers. In the final analysis, you see, Christian faith is not about knowing about Jesus but about knowing Jesus - and in making him known. Let us pray.
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