A Bizarre Hope: John 20:1-18 - Easter Sunday

As someone who’s listened to sermons, or given sermons, for almost my entire life, I only remember just a few of them.

The sermon preached at my wedding, for example, was so rude and condescending to my family, that we threw away the DVD.

The sermon preached at my mother-in-law’s funeral, in the same church where we were married, was one of the most encouraging and uplifting messages I’ve ever heard, and I took notes on it, so that I could improve upon my own funeral messages.

Then there’s the sermon preached at my ordination by the ELCA Presiding Bishop at the time, Mark Hanson. He expressed his concern that the letters ELCA had come to stand for “Expectations Low, Climbing Anxiety.” 

A lot of people were offended by what he said. But I thought his words were right on target.

In the two years prior, nearly twenty percent of the ELCA’s congregations disaffiliated over disagreements around social issues.

For decades, mainline denominations and congregations have been in a cycle of rapid decline, and people anxious, exhausted, and losing hope. You feel it in the air at synod assemblies and presbytery gatherings. Many congregations feel as though their bishops and presbyters have abandoned them. 

But I don’t think it’s fair to blame others for how we feel. We must take responsibility for our low expectations and climbing anxiety, because they are more toxic than everything that’s happening in our world. That’s not to say that social and economic factors in our communities don’t impact us, because they do. You’re not going to have a thriving congregation in a ghost town. Our congregations cannot compete with megachurches when it comes to programming and facilities. And if, by some chance, our membership increased dramatically or we suddenly acquired vast sums of money, that would raise a whole host of challenges as well. 

The truth is, that for as much as we struggle, we have it so much easier than Christians in other parts of the world. We certainly have it easier than Jesus’s disciples did at the time of Christ’s crucifixion and in the time after his resurrection.

During this time, the Jews were a beaten-down people. They lived in dire poverty under the iron fist of Rome. Their religious leaders were more concerned with lining their own pockets than nurturing their faith. But then, Jesus showed up. He taught, he performed signs and wonders, and people believed in him. And yet, the more popular Jesus became, the more dangerous it was to be his disciple. After Jesus was arrested and crucified, nearly all Jesus’s disciples went into hiding, except for the women. 

Just before dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene visited Jesus’s tomb. She found the stone rolled away and Jesus’s body missing. She told Peter and another unnamed disciple, and they returned, only to find the burial linens. The unnamed disciple believed that Jesus was raised, but the rest went home. Even after the risen Jesus appeared to Mary and the other disciples, their mindset didn’t go from devastation to jubilation. 

For one thing, the resurrection didn’t undo Judas’s betrayal, the disciples’ abandonment, or the trauma of his death. Worse yet, the news of Jesus’s resurrection put his disciples in even greater danger than before, because Jesus was crucified as an enemy of the Roman state and an enemy of God. Simply put, the resurrection didn’t change circumstances. But it did change the people who witnessed it. 

That’s crucial for us to remember, given how the arrival of Easter didn’t halt any wars, nor did it cure the people on our prayer list or change the weather. Resurrection doesn’t change circumstances. Resurrection changes us.

We don’t just hear about it and sing about it. Resurrection is what we see and hear and taste and smell and touch. We receive it in the sacraments. Resurrection is what we do. Resurrection is happening ot us

When our bells were restored two years ago, that was resurrection. When we formed the partnership, and we have these amazing gatherings that pack our churches, that is resurrection. When we had fifty kids show up to the Easter Egg-Stravaganza, when we heard the sound of children’s laughter during children’s church last week, when people visit our church then come back again and again, that is resurrection. As great as these things are, the greatest sign of resurrection is in the love you have for the people of God; a love so selfless and generous that it could only come from God. 

So, why are our expectations low? Why is our anxiety climbing?

Yes, our congregations aren’t as big as they used to be. Yes, the buildings are in rough shape; yes, money is tight. But Jesus is risen.

Yes, our community isn’t as prosperous as it used to be. But Jesus is risen.

Yes, the children are hungry; yes, the world is at war; yes, we are a divided nation; yes, the up-and-coming generations are the loneliest generation. But Jesus is risen. 

I call resurrection hope a bizarre hope because present realities would suggest that we’re putting our faith in a delusion. We are so accustomed to decline, decay, and disappointment, that we come to expect it. But death and evil failed to keep Jesus in the tomb. So, it’s time for us to stop living as though death and evil control our destiny. 

God is moving all things in the direction of life and love. Therefore, let us not give up. Let us not be silent. Let us not hide out in fear. 

Jesus is risen, and so are we, because we are the Body of Christ. We will persevere in our work and witness, and we will not let doubts or failures or other people stop us. 

John 20:1-18 (NRSVue)

20 Early 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. ² So 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.” ³ Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. ⁴ The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. ⁵ He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. ⁶ Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, ⁷ and the cloth that had been on Jesus’s head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. ⁸ Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed, ⁹ for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. ¹⁰ Then the disciples returned to their homes.

¹¹ But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb, ¹² and 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. ¹³ They 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.” ¹⁴ When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. ¹⁵ Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” 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.” ¹⁶ Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). ¹⁷ Jesus said to her, “Do not touch 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.’ ” ¹⁸ Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord,” and she told them that he had said these things to her.