The
Resurrection of our Lord – Easter Day: April 5, 2015
Acts 10:34-43; Psalm
118:1-2; 14-24; 1 Corinthians 15:1-11; Mark 16:1-8
St
Stephen Lutheran Church, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
The
Rev. Maurice C. Frontz III STS
It
was one of those nights that you wake up about 1:30 a.m.
and
you want to go back to sleep immediately,
but
you’ve been through this before,
and
you know that you’re going to be up until at least 4:15.
You
know what kind of nights I am talking about.
You
get up and get some water to drink
and
maybe you eat something.
You
might turn on the television or surf the internet
to
get away from the flood of thoughts that close in in the dark:
the
adult equivalent of the childhood monster in the closet.
Regrets,
fears, dreams, hopes, desires, wants, needs.
Things
to do that you can’t do now because it’s the middle of the night.
Trying
to figure a way through conflicts you cannot resolve.
Rehearsing
conversations which one will never have,
in
which one delivers a really crushing remark
that
silences your tormentor;
or
perhaps you rehearse hearing the remark that crushes and silences you.
Worrying
about things you can’t do anything about –
the
powers of the world, the thoughts and actions of others.
Alone
with the voices until one finally falls asleep again,
only
to be awakened by the alarm which comes far too early,
to
face the dawn which breaks whether one has slept or not.
This
has happened to me often,
but
it happened one time early on a Good Friday morning,
That
time as I half-woke from my sleep,
the
thoughts and worries came to me,
but
one stark and terrible thought came to me,
‘Jesus,
even now, is being taken away to be tried and convicted,
and
he will be scourged and beaten,
crucified
and dead on a cross,
and
be buried in the tomb.
And
I will be alone.’
Now,
these thoughts may have simply been a flight of fancy,
a
fevered fantasy of a pastor with an overactive imagination
who
had stripped one too many altars
and
chanted one too many settings of the Passion story.
Perhaps,
however, whenever we wake at night
and
are confronted with the terrors of the world,
we
are rehearsing this same agony of a world without God,
a
world in which we are left to make whatever we can of our own existence.
And
so our existence becomes a burden;
there
is no present time in which to act.
The
past is a place of missed opportunities and broken promises;
the
future is impenetrable to us.
with
the possibility of successes or failures.
Everything
is up to us – and everything stays with us –
our
successes and our failures, our health and our disease.
And
there it is: 3:30 in the morning,
and
we can only lie there in the darkness and wait for the morning to come.
This
particular occasion it happened to me on Good Friday morning,
but
it would have been far more liturgically appropriate
to
wake up in the darkness on Holy Saturday morning,
or
even before the dawn on Easter Sunday morning:
with
Jesus already dead as can be dead,
entombed
in the cave tomb of Joseph of Arimathea,
with
the stone against the door.
Then
I truly could have entered into the terrifying experience of the apostle Peter,
as
he woke from a fevered sleep in the middle of the night:
‘God
is dead, and I have killed him.’[1]
Well,
perhaps not killed him, but at least denied him,
and
who among us can say that this is not so of us?
In
that moment there was no present time for Peter,
simply
a past which he could not undo
and
a future which was impenetrable to him.
Could
he return to his former life of fishing on the Sea of Galilee,
as
if nothing had ever happened and his walk with Jesus was all a dream?
Or
would it be over much sooner than that,
as
soon as those who had been seeking Jesus’ death
found
out where his disciples were as well?
Nothing
he could do about it now;
not
in the fourth watch of the night, not at 3:30 a.m.
The
only thing to do - lie there in the darkness and wait for the morning to come.
Easter
Sunday makes no sense without Good Friday,
but
it also makes no sense without Holy Saturday –
the
time of silence, the time of God’s absence,
the
time where the present is suspended,
the
present shrinks to an indescribably narrow point
between
the past that cannot be undone
and
the future which is terribly uncertain.
‘God
is dead, and he will stay dead, and we have killed him.’
or
at least we have denied him,
and
in our denial of him we have cast him out of our world.
It
is only then can we understand and embrace the resurrection of Jesus.
The
resurrection is not simply the assurance of life after death,
it
is the faith that Jesus is life beyond death, life who conquers death.
It
is the faith that despite the death which haunts us,
the
sin that condemns us,
and
the evil in the world that surrounds us;
Christ
has taken on these powers and stands victorious.
God’s
creatures may have cast God out of the world,
but
in Christ God returns victorious to save these very creatures.
The
angel says to the women,
‘Go
and tell his disciples and Peter
that
he is going ahead of you to Galilee;
there
you will see him, just as he told you.’
Perhaps
Peter’s name is mentioned especially
because
Peter,
who
of all the disciples, had not only fled from the arrest of Jesus
but
had denied him publicly,
was
most in need of the reassurance
that
in the light of Sunday morning,
Jesus
stood, victorious over Peter’s own denial,
to
forgive and bless.
The
past could not be undone
and
the future was yet uncertain,
but
in the light of Sunday morning,
there
was a present for Peter,
in
which he could follow Jesus again
and
stand again in his Lord’s presence.
And
because Jesus was raised from the dead,
each
moment would always be a moment in Jesus’ presence,
so
that the past was also a record of blessing
and
an uncertain future would also be certain,
And
this is the message to us as well,
in
the midst of the wakeful silence,
in
the night of our regrets, fears, dreams, hopes, desires, wants, needs
and
our conflicts we can’t resolve,
when
we are confronted with the past and the future,
Jesus
is the present.
Wherever
he is, there is Easter morning,
whether
it is 2:30 a.m. in a dark room
or
in the full light of day
with
flowers and trumpets and songs of praise.
The
past stands against us and the future stands before us,
but
Jesus is present,
and
he stands with us,
to
forgive us, to protect us, to raise us from the dead,
and
to call us forward to follow him
and
live with him forever.
Thanks
be to God! Alleluia!
