I Believe in the Resurrection -- A Lectionary Meditation

Acts 2:14a, 22-32



1 Peter 1:3-9


John 20:19-31

I Believe in the Resurrection

This may simply be the week that follows Easter. We had our great celebration, but now it’s time to get on with business. The liturgical calendar has, of course, other ideas (as does the lectionary). Therefore, let us continue the celebration we began on the Day of Resurrection by singing the songs of resurrection. With contemporary hymn writer Brian Wren we can sing:

Christ is risen! Shout hosanna! Celebrate this day of days.

Christ is risen! Hush in wonder; all creation is amazed.

In the desert all surrounding, see, a spreading tree has grown.

Healing leaves of grace abounding bring a taste of love unknown        (Chalice Hymnal, 222).

And, with St. John of Damascus (8th century), we can sing:

Let the heavens be joyful! Let earth its song begin!

The world resound in triumph, and all that is therein;

let all things seen and unseen their notes of gladness blend;

for Christ the Lord has risen, our joy that has no end.                         (Chalice Hymnal 228, vs. 3).

Yes, it’s not yet time to let go of the Easter song – indeed, the reason that we gather for worship on the first day of the week is that Jesus rose from the dead on the first day of the week.

I realize that this doctrine of resurrection continues to be controversial, with scholars taking positions along a spectrum from bodily/physical to the metaphorical and everything in between. You can pick your theologian/interpreter and go from there. But, as theologian Clark Williamson reminds us, we can’t get away from its message:

The resurrection explains the New Testament; the New Testament does not explain the resurrection. The resurrection is God’s answer to Pilate’s brutality and to the death dealing ways of all oppressive powers and principalities

.

Thus, God chose to exalt him so that every knee should bow and tongue confess him Lord (Phil. 2:9-11). He goes on to write:

When the church affirms that the Christ who was raised still bears the marks of the crucified Jew who died on a Roman cross, it puts us on notice that the risen Christ will not now do anything out of character with what the Jew Jesus did in relation to his followers. As Jesus then confronted his followers with the promise and command of the God of Israel, so Jesus now confronts his followers with the same promise and command. (Williamson, Way of Blessing, Way of Life, pp. 200-201).

It is this nail scarred but risen Lord whom we meet again in John’s gospel, and through whom we experience the healing presence of God.

On the first Sunday after Easter the lesson from the Hebrew Bible is replaced by a reading from Acts 2, though this passage draws our attention to the words of Psalm 16, the author of which, according to Peter, is David. In this text we hear Peter addressing the gathered crowd on Pentecost, and drawing upon Psalm 16, Peter declares that in this song of the ancient Jewish people, David had declared that the Messiah (the one who would sit on David’s throne) would not be abandoned to Sheol (Hades) or experience corruption, which Peter takes to mean resurrection. David might suffer death and be buried – after all, his tomb remained with them. But the one whom “they” had crucified, God redeemed by raising him from the dead – all of this according to God’s foreknowledge. They may have acted outside the Law, but God had acted to reverse their judgment and restore to the throne of David the chosen one of God. For Peter, David, who died, and whose tomb remained with them, had made it clear that the one who would redeem his throne would be greater than him, for he would be the risen Lord.

If Acts roots the promise of Resurrection in the Psalmist’s prophetic statements, 1 Peter, a letter that claims the great apostle as its author roots the new birth and living hope of the people of God in the resurrection of Jesus. That is, the church doesn’t explain the resurrection – the resurrection explains the church. Therefore, because of this resurrection, the people of God will receive an “inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heave for you . . .” That promise of the resurrection that the letter speaks of gives hope and strength to those who must suffer trials because of their faith. It enables the follower of Jesus to endure the testing of faith by fire. In the end, strengthened by this promise, they will express their joy in praise and glory and honor. And though you may not have seen him you will be able to love him and believe in him. Yes, because of the resurrection you will experience indescribable joy due to the salvation of your soul.

The text that truly grabs us on this Sunday after Easter is John 20. It comes to us in two episodes, both of which remind us that this resurrection of which we speak was no mere resuscitation, but it also appears to be more than mere metaphor or vision.

In the first episode, the disciples are locked away in the Upper Room, because they’re afraid “of the Jews.” It’s interesting that the Romans executed Jesus, but in John’s view they fear the Jews (even though that too are Jews!). But the point that needs to be grasped here is that they are afraid. This is no jolly band ready to continue the work of their fallen leader, and therefore it would seem to take more than a metaphor to cause them to take on a new calling.

Hiding away behind that heavy door, afraid of their shadows, they experience something unexpected. Jesus suddenly appears – as if he walked through walls. Here’s the piece that fits with Clark’s meditation on the resurrection – he shows them his hands and side and then they rejoice. They are comforted that he’s the one marked by the cross. Because they believe and receive him, Jesus then breathes upon them the Holy Spirit and gives them a commission – forgive or retain sins, for whichever you choose, God will act upon this choice. This is John’s Pentecost, the time in which the Spirit empowers and ordains the disciples to be witnesses. They are given the responsibility to share the word of forgiveness.

But not everyone is there that night. One is missing – Thomas, the Twin. He’s not ready to receive their witness. He’s something of a David Hume. He has to see in order to believe. I’m with him really. I too need evidence to quell my doubts. And so we have the second episode. Again, the group of disciples hunkers down behind locked doors – a reminder that the resurrection message didn’t completely take. They received the Holy Spirit from Jesus, but the Spirit had yet to free them completely from their fears. And once again, Jesus appears – through the door - -and he again says: “Peace be with you.” This time his focus is on the doubter, and he invites Thomas to touch the wounds on his hands and in his side. Touch them so that you might know and believe. Yes, the New Testament doesn’t explain the Resurrection. The Resurrection explains the New Testament! It is the Resurrection that compels the people of God to share the good news. Now, Jesus doesn’t condemn Thomas for his doubts, but he does offer a blessing on those who don’t see and yet believe. We who live after David Hume, should receive this word with joy, for if we’re to take the Resurrection Road, it will require of us great faith and trust.

The Gospel doesn’t tell everything that occurred, but it does tell us enough that we might believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the son of God. If we’re willing to believe this, then there is salvation in his name.

The hope of the church and the world is found in the risen Lord. For as Charles Wesley put it:

Soar we now where Christ has led, Alleluia!

Following our exalted Head, Alleluia!

Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!

Sing, O Heavens, and earth reply, Alleluia!                                                      (Chalice Hymnal, 216 vs. 4)

We're Not Forgotten -- A Lectionary Meditation

Isaiah 49:8-16a



1 Corinthians 4:1-5


Matthew 6:24-34

We're Not Forgotten!

One of humanity's greatest fears is to be forgotten. Whether we're extroverts or introverts, we want to know that someone cares about whether we live or die. The words Jesus is said to have uttered from the Cross, words that come to us from Psalm 22, express clearly our fears:

My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?

Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?

O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer;

and by night, but I find no rest. (Ps. 22:1-2).

The promise of Scripture is that God does not forget. Even when we feel alone and despondent, God is present with us. These are words that give hope and solace in difficult times, when we feel as if God has forgotten us. Such words don't make the journey less arduous, but they provide a sense of strength. But the Scriptures that remind us that we're not alone, also remind us that God comes to us in community. The two go together.

As we listen to the voices speaking to us from the week's lectionary texts, we hear this reminder that God is present, but we also hear, especially in the Pauline text, a reminder that God is present in and through the community. The latter voice may be subtle, but it is there, in the words about trust. Indeed, community rests on the foundation of trust.

As we most often do, we start with the voice that speaks to us from the first testament. Here is the voice of the prophet who speaks to us from out of the exile, speaking to people who have experienced desolation, who have experienced imprisonment. They were a people without a home. This is a word that resonates with many living in our own time, people feeling the pangs of decreased value in homes, salaries, and retirements, unemployment and foreclosure, along with rising prices in other areas of life. There is great uncertainty about the future. Revolutions in the Middle East and the expansion of globalization. There is the reality that the gap between the richest members of society and the poorest is growing, while the middle class is shrinking. We know the darkness. It surrounds us. We feel it every day.

But even as Isaiah gives voice to our sense of being alone and forsaken, the prophet speaks a word of hope and salvation. A light will shine in the darkness. Songs of joy will erupt from the people. Indeed, they will feed from the bare heights and experience neither hunger nor thirst, neither scorching wind sun nor will the sun strike them down. This is because the Lord will lead them to pasture and flowing waters. The impassable mountains will become roads and the people will come from North and West to reinhabit the land. We may feel forgotten, but as the prophet states on behalf of God, "Can a woman forget her nursing child or show no compassion for her child?" Yes, we might find examples, but like the compassionate and committed mother, the Lord will not forget, for the Lord has "inscribed you on the palms of my hand."

All is not darkness. There is hope, for God is with us. But we know that there is need for God's presence to be tangible. We are not created to be alone - as the second creation account makes clear - God discerned that it was not good for the man to be alone (Gen. 2:18) and so God created a partner who fit with him, to share life in all its forms with him. Paul's brief words from 1 Corinthians 4 don't speak directly to the issue of forsakenness or community, but it is implicit in the words spoken to the people of this congregation. Indeed, the entire letter is focused on helping this people live together in a way that is healing and empowering. The focus is on Paul's claim to be a servant of Christ and a steward of God's mysteries. He knows nothing that can be held against him - nothing worth taking to court. As far as he is concerned, God alone is able to judge. The word is - don't pronounce judgment before the Lord comes, for it is the Lord who brings light to our darkness. In this case it is a light that illuminates the things that are done in darkness. Although the Pauline text is not as directly related to the themes present in the word from the prophets or from the Gospels, there is a word here this important. It is the word "trustworthy." For the community to be a place of healing and hope, so that we needn't walk this path alone, there needs to be trust, and as we know trust has become scarce in our day. The wary forward requires that the people of God become trust-builders. It is not an easy path. It requires that we not fall into cynicism and suspicion, but rather leave the judging and the revealing to God. Yes, be discerning, but do so prayerfully and carefully, so that the community might exist for the good of the world, that together we might all be servants of Christ and stewards of God's mysteries.

Finally we come to the Gospel. It is another passage from the Sermon on the Mount, though the lectionary skips from the end of chapter five into the middle of chapter six. The words about worship and prayer are set aside, so that we might hear a word that connects with the first text. It is a call to put one's trust in God. We worry, Jesus says, because we seek to serve two masters. But you can't do this. You can't serve God and the pursuit of wealth. One of the most scandalous parts of the Gospel is Jesus' constant challenge to people of wealth. He loves them and encourages them, but he also challenges them to let go of the pursuit of things that don't matter in the kingdom of God.

As we listen to this radical voice we are put in a difficult position. This is no capitalist God who is calling us into communion. We're not being encouraged to buy the latest car or fashion or to worry about what we'll eat or drink. There's no need to do this because worry doesn't do anything. I can't produce anything of value. It simply puts us in a position of enslavement. I hear this word, this call to seek God's realm, and yet I have a house payment, car payments, insurance bills, and the need to put food on the table. Over all I'm fortunate. The darkness hasn't closed in on me - though I've known the times when darkness seemed close at hand - perhaps not to the extent of so many others, but I know the feeling. So what do we make of this word from Jesus that tells us that we can't add an hour to our lives by worrying about what we'll eat or wear.

How do we respond to the premise that God knows our needs and will provide. What is it that God will provide and how will God provide? I'm cognizant of the word that was given to the Thessalonians who in their anticipation of the return of Christ seem to have gone off to the hillside to wait for the big event. The word comes - if you don't work, you don't eat (2 Thess. 2:6ff). So, is Jesus suggesting we simply sit and wait for God to come and give us food and clothes? I'm not so sure. Is Jesus providing a foundation for that innocuous Bobby McFerrin tune - "Don't Worry, Be Happy"? Some how I don't think that's the point. It is not a call to put one's head in the sand, but instead it's a call to get one's priorities in the right place.

In the end the word seems to be this: God is present with us on the journey, so that even as a mother would not forget her child, so God will not forget us. There is a trustworthiness present here that we are called to acknowledge. God has made a covenant and God is true to God's covenant. It is to this covenant that we are called to be servants and stewards, so that even as God is trustworthy, so might we, even as we seek the reign of God. When we do this, everything will fall into place. Thus, there is no need to worry about tomorrow. Instead, let us take care of today's challenges, which are sufficient for the day.