Sunday, May 14, 2017

REAL. EASTER.*

5th Sunday of Easter---Year A
(click for video link)
Acts 6:1-7
John 14: 1-12


How peppy are your Alleluia’s?
Anyone text you “He Is Risen” lately?
Are there any lilies? Alive ones?
Is Easter beginning to fade a little?

With today’s reading’s---It might seem---At first glance
That the church has forgotten it is Easter

We have one of the most popular funeral Gospels
“In my Father’s house there are many mansions…
And from the Acts of the Apostles
We have the powerful story of the Stoning of Stephen
the first Christian Martyr

There is nothing sentimental about REAL Easter
It is always rubbing up against the cross.
Easter sentimentality ---As my dad would say of a salad dinner---
doesn’t stick to the ribs

Well…the lectionary gives us---REAL Easter
No sentimentality here---Easter is about REAL

A look at the Collect Prayer
Is always a good place to go to clarify a Sunday theme
And today it ends this way:
Grant us so perfectly to know your Son Jesus Christ to be the way, the truth, and the life,
THAT WE MAY steadfastly follow his steps
in the way that leads to eternal life.

So the theme---The desire ---The goal of this worship
Is to increase our steadfastness in following
IN HIS STEPS---Right on through to eternal life!

And our example is STEPHEN
This community’s patron Saint
The first Christian Martyr
Our example---is a story about how a person
who has perfected the art of  Steadfastly following  in his steps
… how such a person dies

Anyone want to leave yet???

The word Martyr is in fact a Christian word
It comes from the Greek word for ‘witness’
But according to church historians
there are defining characteristics of Christian martyrdom:
-there’s innocence --- the victim is innocent
(so you can’t be a Christian martyr with explosives around your chest)
-there’s blessing/forgiveness of ones enemies/executioners
-and there’s a vision…a vision of God’s Glory
(and the clue…the evidence…seems to be a palpable sense of peace)

in other words
martyrs die like Jesus died

Stephen is innocent
He forgives his persecutors
And he sees the glory of God---it was reflected in his gaze
The stoners are rushing at him
---but note that detail
---they have their fingers in their ears

But even so…plugged ears and all
Their other senses haven’t stopped working
That innocence---That forgiveness---That peace and light
It penetrates---It sinks in
Plugging ones ears is a rather lame defense

And in the story ---En route to the stoning
Their “coats were laid at the feet of a young man named Saul”
This is a gesture acknowledging Saul’s leadership

The next lines read:
“Now Saul agreed with his being killed. 
And on that day there began a great persecution
Against the Church in Jerusalem.
…Saul continued to inflict outrage against the Church. 
He went into one house after another.
He dragged out both men and women.
He handed them over to prison.”

If I remember my high school English
That is what you call foreshadowing
That young man Saul
Will soon (in Chapter 9) fall to the ground on the road to Damascus
That Saul will become the Apostle Paul
The greatest Missionary Witness the Church has ever known

Witnesses to the martyr’s death
To a death like Jesus’
Are powerless
They cannot resist being penetrated to their deepest core

Paul witnessed
Innocence, forgiveness, and glory
He witnessed truth and light
He couldn’t help but be changed
And he couldn’t resist becoming a witness
telling the story…that is what witnesses do

And then
He too was martyred
And the church told his story
and on and on
down through the ages
countless lives lived in the footsteps
…in the pattern of Jesus
story upon story

This is the REAL Easter
The pattern of dying and rising

I’ll never forget a story I read a few years ago
It was in a book by a New York Times Journalist named Danner
It is a true story… gruesome but powerful
I won’t give you all the details

It was 1981
In the middle of the bloody armed conflict in ElSalvador
I don’t remember who was on what side
And it doesn’t really matter for this story
There was a tiny village called El Mozote
It had a reputation for being neutral in the civil conflict
One day Armed militia came to town and massacred everyone
There was one young woman who was singled out
She was taken a ways off to a hill outside the village
Fittingly called la Cruz…the Cross
And there
With a handful of torturers
She was subject to a day’s worth of unspeakable brutality
And eventual death

The story goes that all the while
This young woman sang hymns
She sang and sang
I wonder…were her eyes fixed on God’s Glory?
Was her singing actually powered by God’s Glory?
She was eventually shot…and she sang still
Shot again…and she sang still
The men’s laughter soon turned to fear

How do we even know this story?
On that hill
There was the victim
And the perpetrators
Who told the story?   How did it get out?
It is the pattern of Paul

There is no power
Strong enough to block
Innocence, forgiveness, peace and light.

There is a pattern---Someone always tells
The truth ---the innocence---The light---The Glory
It always penetrates
And it won’t stay unspoken

If we are getting REAL
We’ll admit that for most of us
Most likely…We will not find ourselves
in the center of a frenzied mob with stones in their hands
or atop a Salvadoran hill surrounded by blood thirsty death squads

so one more story…a story closer to home

I met a mystic once
…a rural/southern Indiana/farm-raised/could be you or me…mystic. 

The nurse called for the chaplain to visit with Lucy.  
I paused at the almost closed door to Lucy’s hospital room,
and overheard the nurse: ‘Now Lucy, let’s put that cover back over you
…the chaplain is coming.’

Lucy was at least ninety with a head of silken snow-white wavy hair.
And skin like the surface of my favorite pearls.  
She was very weak but mightily intentional.  
First she wanted me to read to her from scripture.  
I pulled out my trusty little green ‘Pastoral Care of the Sick’ book
and opened it to John 14…the same reading we had today
I went on reading until she asked me to move on to the greeting cards
I opened them and read them to her…but not just the new ones.  
There was a stack of others from relatives and from neighbors and friends.  
She told me a stories about each sender

All the while Lucy’s right fist never let go of the sheet that so concerned her nurse.
She grabbed it like my daughter used to grasp her ‘blankie’
As she grabbed she worked the fabric through her fist
Eventually she managed to pull the sheet off completely.  
And there she was, this beautiful woman
a woman of the deepest faith, near death,
and much to the discomfort of her nurse…naked…but for her adult diaper.

At that moment I caught her staring off to the right…over her shoulder.  
“Lucy, what is it?  What has grabbed your attention?"

Lucy was staring at the crucifix on the wall,
her body a perfect mirror of his.  
She turned to me,
and with a forcefulness not residing in her weakened body,
she proclaimed ‘I came into this world exposed and I will leave it exposed…just like him.’

What kind of life leads a person to that proclamation?
Was there a consistency about the cross-shaped pattern of her life?
And what does cross-shaped even look like?

I think it is that mixture of great joy and great sacrifice
Joy and sacrifice...isn’t that what brings life to life?


I want to know
Because all this makes me wonder

Am I the subject of such a story?
Am I, at least sometimes, a carrier of such innocence?
Am I such a forgiver?
Do I glimpse the glory of God from time to time
…and more importantly
does it show on my face?  In my life?


To celebrate Easter
For REAL
Asks something of us
from each of us individually
and all of us as a community

We are asked to take our fingers out of our ears
We are asked to LEAN IN
LEAN IN
Get within earshot
Hear the life giving stories
Share them
And make our lives one for the telling

So the Collect prayer
With a small addendum
Grant us so perfectly to know your Son Jesus Christ
to be the way, the truth, and the life,
THAT WE MAY steadfastly follow his steps
all the way to eternal life
with such style and grace that OUR living
And OUR dying might become a source of nourishment for others.

Amen/Alleluia



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