Resurrection Perspectives
March 31, 2013 – Easter Sunday | Patrick Preheim
One of the most frustrating and delightful aspects to our scriptures is the degree to which their testimonies vary on some really important stuff. For example, in that last week of his life did Jesus wash feet or institute a supper? And then there is the resurrection. You have the synoptic accounts in your bulletin and Denelda read John’s version. There are those who believe there is only one truth and work hard to whittle away disagreement among the gospel accounts. Anyone, though, who has attempted to recount the details of a memorable event know the truth is bigger than what any one person can remember. This is true if it is a championship game, a glorious vacation, or even a wedding. We all remember different aspects of the same event. Given the turmoil of that first Easter morning should we be shocked that people experienced, remembered, and recorded the resurrection differently? In fact there is a type of beauty in the universal and yet personal dimension to the Easter story. My reflections today centre on these two aspects of the resurrection. The universal section is quite short and quite theological, so try to hang with me. I will get to narrative later in the personal side of resurrection; first the universal.
My comparison of our four accounts leads me to make two unqualified statements about the resurrection. (Tom Yoder Neufeld, “In Conversation with Tom Yoder Neufeld” in Canadian Mennonite; reported by Ross W. Muir):
- Resurrection happened
- Resurrection is a nearly incomprehensible mystery
In 1st Corinthian 15 Paul clarifies the seriousness of the Christian claim of resurrection: if Christ has not been raised from the dead we are misrepresenting God and greatly to be pitied (1st Cor 15:12-18). The gravity of misrepresenting God should not be lost on us. I do not believe that God would allow a group of bereaved followers made up of largely powerless people to carry on a hoax as grand as this. No, it is in the power of risen Lord that these lower class men and women spread the good news. It is in the power of the risen Lord that persecutors like the Pharisee Saul because evangelists of the good news. It is in the power of the risen Lord that average people were inspired to love rather than hate and there-by convert their enemies. I do not believe God would allow all this to transpire if it were not true. Does the existence of other world religions also mean that God can be found in Buddhism, Islam, Hinduism and other major religions? Very likely, but God’s gift to the Christian tradition is the resurrection. We must not shy from claiming our heritage. The resurrection is the message of life after death which permits us to live most fully now. It is crucial we not lose this teaching. Resurrection is salvation for the world.
My second unqualified statement, however, speaks to the humility required of us. How does the resurrection happen? God only knows and I mean that literally. This business of a dead man being raised and a corpse appearing to people is truly God’s handiwork. I don’t understand it and I don’t need to understand it. The more we humans learn about the complexity of our bodies or the intricacy of eco-systems or the expanse of space the more I am convinced that we know far less than we think we know. Our intellect is a gift and we are called to ever grow in our understanding of all things, and yet I believe we will never know it all. To understand all things would elevate us to the level of God. We will not become God—not this century or next. Resurrection of the body or spirit is one of the mysteries we may not ever get our minds around. On this Easter Sunday I am comfortable with that situation.
After these grand theological propositions, which you may or may not agree with, I want move to the personal dimension of our biblical stories. Each account testifies to the resurrection and points us in directions where we too might encounter the risen Christ and be transformed.
It may seem obvious, but go to the tomb. The tomb is that graveyard where our losses and dashed dreams have been buried. Going to this cemetery is not easy. Most of us don’t want to be re-victimized or re-traumatized, so we let sleeping dogs lie. Matthew and John’s gospel attest that if you muster up the courage to go to the tomb, even if you expect nothing, you may find the risen Christ. I am intrigued by John’s report from the garden because Mary does not recognize the risen Lord. How does one not recognize the voice of a friend? Even if we go to the tomb we may not recognize resurrection if it is staring us in the face. Jesus is not fazed by this; he honours those who come. Not all the disciples go to the tomb, but you will probably know if you are one of those that needs to. And if you are Mary, Salome, Joanna or the other Mary go to the tomb with courage.
Some disciples need a trip. I am intrigued by the references to Galilee that we find in both Matthew and Mark’s gospel. The risen Christ tells the women that they should direct the others to Galilee. For Mark and Matthew Galilee is “not mere geography, but theology” (M. Eugene Boring, “Gospel of Matthew” in The New Interpreter’s Bible: A Commentary in Twelve Volumes (vl VIII), p. 499). Galilee is where the ministry of Jesus began. It was where Gentile and Jewish communities mingled. It was where Jesus quoted Isaiah 9.2 and affirmed its hope for the Gentiles. For some of us to meet the risen Christ we will need to go back to the beginning; to where it all started for us in our walk with Jesus. Or perhaps we are in that group of disciples called to the margins of our society, and it is there we will meet the risen Christ. Galilee is theology not just geography. Galilee is where a few of us must travel to see resurrection.
Luke also has a travel motif in his gospel. Rather than Galilee two disciples, Cleopas and his friend (probably his special friend), journey to Emmaus. The story is a familiar one to us: Jesus invites himself along for the walk, lets them share about their experiences in Jerusalem the last week, explains a few scriptures to them, and then joins them for a meal. Like Mary Magdalene of John’s gospel these disciples do not recognize the risen Lord beside them. It is only at meal time when Jesus takes a loaf of bread and blesses it that their eyes are opened. This could point us in several directions. At a very direct reading of the text hospitality is one way we meet the risen Christ. Gathered around a table we are invited to share of ourselves and hear the stories of others. Hospitality, active listening, sharing—this is certainly one way to meet Jesus. And then there is the table encounter with a capital “T”. The words Luke uses to describe the meal blessing offered by Jesus are none other than the words of institution for communion used throughout his letters. Perhaps there is something mystical in the taking of bread and wine. That has certainly been the case for many, including Sara Miles whose conversion story appears in the book “Take This Bread”. This excellent read is even in our church library.
After the walk to Emmaus, in Luke’s gospel Jesus appeared to gathered disciples. John, too, has the disciples clustered together in the post crucifixion setting of the upper room. In both gospels the disciples are, no doubt, supporting each other amidst the confusion of betrayal, denial, crucifixion and the outlandish reports of some tomb going women. It is like that sometimes: we gather together and something larger than life transpires. Unbidden and largely unexpected the Risen Christ bursts into our collective misery and doubt. We wake up on a Sunday morning not sure where the Jesus we knew has gone; despite our questions and doubts we drag ourselves to a worship service; and then a particular hymn or reading or prayer or space of silence hits us with the impact of the risen Christ. We can’t explain it rationally, but something divine has transpired. Surprising things happen when people gather together.
Mark’s gospel is perhaps the most provocative of all the resurrection accounts. After encountering a young man in a white robe whose instructions were to give the other disciples a message the women flee in terror and tell nothing to anyone. The curious piece of this ending is that the letter did circulate to Christian communities. At some point the women got it sorted out enough, got courageous enough, got confident enough to share their resurrection story. Something must have happened to those women in the days and years after their encounter in the garden. Perhaps their silence is a keystone for understanding yet another avenue for meeting the risen Christ. Perhaps we need to become detached from our concepts—our inadequate and idolatrous concepts—of Jesus before we meet the risen Lord. Perhaps, in silence, we simply need to allow Christ a space for an appearance. The likes of Thomas Merton, Richard Rohr and others would attest that this path of meditation and mysticism is certainly one way in which the resurrected Christ appears to us.
I recognize that Easter can seem a challenge for those who bristle at the possibility of resurrection, or those who feel stuck in Good Friday, or those who believe the risen Christ has appeared to everyone but them. Even if we struggle with the resurrection at a personal level there is still the resurrection at a universal level, and that will carry us. Jesus does not stop pursuing us even if our senses fail. The larger story holds us even when we fail to recognize the risen Christ in the garden or on the road. It holds us even when we are terror stricken and fleeing the presence of Christ. It holds us even when language and reason fail us. The grace of Easter Sunday is that God and Christ have done resurrection even when our best intentions and intellect let us down. That is reason enough to sing, so let us take our hymn books and turn to #275, “Lift your glad voices”
