April 16, 2006
(The Sunday of the Resurrection, or Easter Day)

Moving the Stones

by The Rt. Rev. Barry Howe, Bishop of the Diocese of West Missouri

Acts 10:34-43 or Isaiah 25:6-9  •  Psalm 118:14-29 or 118:14-17, 22-24  •  Colossians 3:1-4 or Acts 10:34-43  •  Mark 16:1-8
(From The Lectionary Page)

The three women set out as the sun began to rise—at the first opportunity they could following the Sabbath. They obtained some spices in order to accomplish the only pitiable thing left to do for the crucified one whom they had followed about, still thinking perhaps that he was someone very special for them. But how could they possibly get to him? There was that great stone that had been rolled in front of the tomb, sealing the tomb from intruders, and sealing the tomb even from people like them—people who might still claim some special relationship with him, and through this relationship claim some new special relationship with God.

The collisions of power had been very real due to the claims of the crucified one, the consequences of those collisions were still raw in the minds and hearts of those who saw to it that he would die— thereby expunging the power that he claimed could defeat even the most entrenched in the seats of spiritual and political power. That great stone was more than just a seal for the tomb; it was a symbol of the end of this madness that had gripped the hearts of so many people. The great stone was assumed to still be in place when the women began their trek to the tomb. They knew they could not move it. And they wondered if anyone could—indeed if there was anyone who had the strength and the will to move it for this one last act of compassion and mercy for the dead.

There are many such great stones that are strategically placed before us in our lives. They are rolled across places that need to be entered; places where mercy and compassion need to be administered again with perfect love. We ask the question: “Who is going to roll away these stones for us?” We seem utterly unable to move them—again due not just to the weight of the stones, but also due to the collision of powers—the powers that still find and will always find the way of God to be inconsistent with a way of life that provides what we believe at one point or another life should provide. Some of these great stones are front and center every day, even as we seek to be responsible bearers of compassion and mercy – like these women. There is the stone of continued aggression against a people who have been labeled as our enemies—aggression that escalates into more and more violence, and more and more needless deaths. Who is going to move this stone? There is the stone of global warming that is sealing the fate of many who are the victims of changing weather patterns—weather that with no discrimination casts its destructive power. Who is going to move this stone? There is the great stone of terrorism; the great stones of racism and sexism; the great stone of deteriorating conjunction between political leaders and the people they are sworn to serve. Who is going to move these stones?

When the three women came to the tomb, and looked up, they saw that the stone had already been rolled back. How could this be? There appeared to be no one around—no group who had put their shoulders to the task of rolling the stone away. Was this some miracle that had taken place? This question of how the stone was moved is not answered in the Gospel report. We are left with the only conclusion we have—a conclusion that does not arise from any wisdom we have, but a conclusion that proceeds from our faith. God was there ahead of the women! With God all things are possible. The tomb was no longer sealed because God moved the stone, allowing for the collision of powers to manifest themselves again—but this time in a new and different way. The power of God, embodied in the incarnate presence of God’s Son, the one crucified on a cross—this power of God would now be incarnated in the lives of those who would offer themselves, as Jesus Christ had so offered himself, for the building the kingdom of God. God moved that stone from in front of the tomb. And God can move the other great stones we have identified if only—if only we will place our trust in him—in his power transcending all other powers. We place our trust in God when we offer ourselves, as Jesus did, not to the authorities of the world; not to the powers and forces that cannot tolerate mercy and compassion; not to the voices of aggression and violence; not to those whose self-assurance denies the personhood of others. We place our trust in God when we open ourselves to God’s power, entering into our lives as gift, freeing us from enslavement to the world. All the great stones that stand before us and symbolize the reality of negating the power of God can be rolled away if we embrace what God is doing through the presence of the Risen Christ with us!

Such a claim sounds so idealistic! Even the claim that God rolled away that stone from the tomb sounds so unrealistic! Anything that is described in details that are beyond our wisdom—our ability to grasp in some reasonable way—is subject to the dismissal of such claims. We want to know at every turn in our lives how we can be in control; how we can understand all ways and means of activity; how we can take control and form and shape what we want of life. And yet, as hard as we work to be in control, we find ourselves more out of control. We are more out of control when we try to assume the powers that collide with God’s power; those powers that cannot tolerate Jesus and seek to put him out of our lives—out of the world. This spiraling out of control is precisely what we see in the lives of the religious authorities and political authorities who challenged Jesus as he gave of himself for others with the power of God. This spiraling out of control is precisely what we see in so many people who claim today to be authorities with power—many who are now political, economic, social, and religious leaders. There are those among them who say they have an intimate relationship with the Risen Christ, but who interpret the use of his power—God’s power—in ways inconsistent with the mercy and compassion that are the hallmarks of the Lord’s ministry. We are not created by God to be in control! We are created to place ourselves in the hands of God, committing ourselves to live in obedience to God’s awesome and wondrous power, knowing that we will be consistently challenged by all other powers and forces. Such commitment is not a nod toward idealism. Such a commitment is the acceptance of the hard realism that is found in the continuing collision of powers; a collision in which the Risen Christ assures us that nothing can separate us from the power gifted to us by God.

When the women cautiously entered the tomb to complete what they hoped to do, they were alarmed to be met by a living being in a white robe. The young man told them not to be alarmed, and gave them instructions to go and tell their friends that Jesus had been raised from the dead, and that he would meet them again in Galilee. Their alarm did not subside, and they fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them. The assurance that Jesus has been raised and that he is going before them into Galilee seemed lost on the women, for they remained silent and afraid. I presume that this would be the initial reaction of each and every one of us—entering that tomb-- feeling very vulnerable to the mixed feelings of wonder, amazement, disbelief, cautious joy, emerging hope. In fact, these mixed feelings perhaps still overwhelm us this day as we gather in anticipation and sing alleluias. Yet our vulnerability to surprise and wonder and awe and mystery is an essential ingredient for being transformed by God’s power. Once we meet the Risen Christ, this vulnerability to God’s power—to God’s presence with us—allows for our transformation to a new life to take place. This transformation enables us to share the Good News of the Risen Christ’s presence with us; enables us to witness to the power of God transcending all other powers; enables us to work for the power of God being present in what we say and do as bearer’s of God’s love. Easter is God’s day—God’s day to transform us to live with his power as inheritors of his kingdom! “This is the Lord’s doing – God’s doing - and it is marvelous in our eyes!”

When the Apostle Paul wrote to the fledgling church in Colossae, he made an astounding assertion. He said that the members of this new community had been raised with Christ. What that means, he went on to say, is that their transformation through the blessing God has given to them the great desire to seek the things that are above—the things that witness to the work of the power of God, and not to the work of countless other powers. So Paul challenged them to set their minds and their hearts on those things, for their lives were to reveal what the Risen Christ is revealing. What the Risen Christ is revealing are the fruits of God’s mercy and compassion, made manifest in the countless moments when hunger is fed with manna; when pain is relieved by divine touch administered by human hands; when fear is replaced with confident hope; when alienation and loneliness are supplanted by acceptance into community with love. “Set your mind on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory.”

You and I have been raised with Christ. The great stones standing before us in our lives, seeking to set us apart from the new life we have been given, are able to be moved by God, who calls us to join with him—even though we may do so with fear and trembling. Raised with Christ, we no longer seek to control, but to be controlled—to be controlled by the power of God—the Holy Spirit which moves and blows in wondrous and mysterious ways. We are called to live well beyond our wisdom. We are called to live by faith—a faith that assures us that nothing can separate us from the power of God—the love of God. Set your minds and hearts on living with this power, and rejoice in thanksgiving that the Risen Christ is ever with us; and that God does not abandon us—now or ever!

The Rules Have Changed

By The Very Rev. Terry White, Dean

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

Some seven or eight years ago, Rebekah and I were watching the Walt Disney cartoon Beauty and the Beast, which had been left in her Easter basket by the Resurrection Rabbit. To be honest, Rebekah was watching the video and I was reading the paper or doing taxes or something like that.

In case you don’t know the Disney version of the story, the curse on the Beast will become permanent unless the Beauty says “I love you” before the last petal of a rose falls. And in the kind of drama that only a Walt Disney cartoon can produce (you may chuckle here if you wish) the Beast is mortally wounded by a rival, and dies. The Beauty looks upon the dead Beast, and says “I love you” as the last petal falls.

There is sadness. Then suddenly, a change begins, and in a matter of moments the Beast and all his household are released from the curse. The transformed beast is now a prince. And as everyone is dancing and singing and light streams into the darkened mansion, Rebekah says, “Hey. Wait a minute. That’s not fair. He died before she said, ‘I love you.’ He died before the rose petal fell. He should still be a dead beast.”

I found myself explaining to Becky the triumph of love, and that maybe the rules can change for the right reasons. With her trademarked furrowed brow and doubting eyes, I knew that she was not buying what I said, and it would not be the last time that happened.

We are used to Disney-endings, though we don’t always buy them. We’ve experienced too much of life to expect that everything always works out happily for everyone, pain-free, and cost-free. And in fact, some of us are suspicious if all the details end up neat and tidy.

For those of us in this category, St. Mark’s story of the Resurrection should be our favorite. Many of the details found in at least one other Gospel are here:

• Three women come to the tomb early Sunday morning to anoint the corpse.
• They wonder how they will move the large stone in front of the tomb. But they find the stone already moved.
• A young man in white tells them that he knows that they are looking for Jesus of Nazareth who was crucified. But he is not here – he has been raised. The tomb indeed is empty.
• The man in white them charges the three women to tell the disciples and especially Peter that he will meet them in Galilee where they will see him.

But verse 8 is unique to Mark: “So they (the women) went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone for they were afraid.”

With that verse, according to most scholars, the Gospel of Mark originally ended. No resurrection appearances, no great commission from Jesus, no Ascension into heaven. These were later added in extending the Gospel at least 11 more verses. In fact, there is even a third ending of two additional verses that some scholars include.

Imagine the fun that The DaVinci Code author could have with this real life conspiracy. Mary Magdalene is probably behind this, too!

Our Gospel reading today ends at verse 8, they fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone for they were afraid. That’s not the ending of the Resurrection story that we are used to. Tuesday through Friday at the daily Eucharist and for the next two Sundays we will hear of resurrection appearances. But let us not avoid the gift of this Easter Day Gospel. What is Mark saying to us by ending his Gospel with the phrase: they were afraid?

Mark may be exhibiting honesty. The news that Jesus is risen, that he is not here in the tomb, breaks the rules. God has done something so new, even though resurrection had been dreamed of and talked about abstractedly, resurrection in the flesh (pun intended), caused fear, as in the kind of fear that is created whenever something new is done.

Discoveries in science and advances in technology have led to fearful responses to the electric light, the telephone, the microwave oven, computers and cell phones. (And I think a fear of cell phones is totally valid.)

There was fear when the Cold War ended, both fear that Russia was trying to pull a fast one, and the fear that with an old enemy gone, who would we protect ourselves from now? A generation had grown used to fearing atomic annihilation at any moment. Could we live another way? Could we change?

And that I believe is the fear that Mark sees in these women. The Resurrection does lead to fear, because it means that you and must change. The old rules are out. What we fear is no more. The grave is defeated, death will never again be ultimately victorious. God has acted. God has spoken. God’s reality has changed. Has our reality changed?

In the Church, when a priest who is a woman was consecrated a bishop, it was new, and even as some hailed this new life, fear ensued in many other quarters. Two and half years ago, when a priest who is man in a committed relationship with another man was consecrated bishop, again, some saw this as a logical expression of the new life we are called to live, and for others, fear dominated.

From the Church’s life to our common life as a nation, with a national budget that has cut programs to serve the poor, and as legislation is considered that would criminalize serving people who are discounted and labeled as ‘undocumented’ – we see alive and well the wrong kind of fear that so easily dominates us and causes us to pull in, build walls, and create a false sense of security.

Mark offers another way. Fear is very much a part of life, especially when we encounter something new that is of God. Fear acknowledges that we are not in control, and Gospel Fear calls us to move beyond self-centered motivations and open our hearts and lives to new blessings, new life, and new ways to serve. If you and I can live confident that death is defeated, then most every other priority will change…and for the better.

That same Easter evening after Becky and I had had our talk about Beauty and the Beast, the whole family played a game of Sorry. I landed on one of her pieces, but instead of going to Start she just went back one space. I asked why, and she said, “Just like you said Daddy, the rules can change.” Becky learned well! Each generation does learn from the previous.

May you and I grasp as never before that on this Easter Day the rules have changed. For Christ is risen. Together as the People of God, may this Cathedral embrace the fear that comes from venturing out into new life and press on. May we seek Christ in Word and Sacrament with a greater hunger. May we care for each other more deeply, forgive others more genuinely, welcome the outcasts and strangers more sincerely, give of our time and money more generously, and may we serve the people of this city more courageously and emphatically.

Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Be afraid, for Christ’s sake. The rules have changed. Be afraid, that you may new life in you.