Practicing Resurrection

Photo of the Rt. Rev. Martin S. Field by the Rt. Rev. Martin S. Field, Bishop of West Missouri

Reflecting on the Feast of the Resurrection, author Nora Gallagher writes about ”practicing resurrection”.  Isn’t that a splendid phrase: “practicing resurrection”?  In her article, Ms Gallagher wonders whether we in the church spend too much time discussing whether we do or do not believe in the resurrection, and by so doing, miss the point.  She writes:

“When I think about the resurrection now, I not only wonder about what happened to Jesus.  I ponder what happened to his disciples.  Something happened to them, too.  They went into hiding after the crucifixion, but after the resurrection appearances, they walked back out into the world.  They became braver and stronger; they visited strangers and healed the sick.  It wasn’t just what they saw when they saw Jesus, or how they saw it, but [something] was set free in them. ... What if the resurrection is not about the appearances of Jesus alone, but also about what those appearances point to, what they ask of us?  Finally, it’s what we do with them that matters; we make them into superstitions, or we use them as stepping stones to new life.  Maybe resurrection, like everything else, needs to be practiced.”

“Maybe resurrection, like everything else, needs to be practiced.”  I so like that!  It’s a splendid phrase.  It’s splendid truth.  It’s our Easter truth.

It does seem like people are longing for the practice of resurrection in their lives.  A widow whose husband died at a much too early age.  A man who is struggling with a new career at midlife and fears his ability to cope with new challenges.  A colleague who falls into a deep, clinical depression and struggles to live through the day with meager energy.  In so many ways, so many people are longing for new life, yearning for the practice of resurrection.

I suppose one could say that the women who visited the tomb on that first Easter morning really needed to practice resurrection.  Think about it.  They had gone to the tomb on that morning to attend to Jesus’ body.  It was the last, loving service they could do for their Lord.  They’d witnessed Jesus’ death.  They knew that there hadn’t been time for a proper burial, so they came with spices to complete the burial rites. Their beloved Lord was dead.  They could at least do this one, last act of love for him.

And yet their hearts must have been heavy.  Their life with Jesus was over.  The one whose call had been irresistible, the one whose service was like no other service they had ever known, now lay lifeless in a tomb.  And there must have been fear mixed in with their grief.  Not just the fear of death or arrest, but the fear that all their hopes and dreams had died along with Jesus, that their futures also lay lifeless in the grave.

This is what happens to love in the world. They had known perfect love in Jesus, and the world had killed him.  The world can be a cruel and fearsome place.

When they arrived at the tomb, they entered into the place of their deepest and darkest fears.  They entered the very place of death.  And yet, what did they find?  Nothing.  No body.  Nothing.

We’re told that they were initially perplexed by the absence of the body, which is understandable because they thought their story with Jesus was over, but the angel reminded them that this was not the end of the story.  He said:

“Why do you look for the living among the dead?  He is not here, but has risen.  Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.”

They needed to be reminded of resurrection.

“Remember how he told you.” ... They needed to practice resurrection.  They needed to go and tell all this to all the rest of the disciples.  They got the good news that Christ is risen from the dead, and now they needed to change from people who perform rites for the dead to apostles who bear witness to the living Lord.  They needed to practice resurrection.  They needed to change from people who are fearful and frightened to people who boldly proclaim that God’s life is stronger than any death, that God’s love is stronger than any hate, that God’s peace is more powerful than human violence.

So they practiced on the men.  They told all they had seen and heard to the eleven and all the rest. Now, it must be said, the eleven and the others y were a little slow on the uptake.  The words of the women seem but an idle tale.  They too needed to practice resurrection.  Well, they eventually got it, and, together with those first women, they became a courageous group of apostles who changed the world.

The good news of Easter is that Jesus Christ, who was crucified, has been raised from the dead.  This belief, this truth, this resurrection, changes everything.  Cruelty is not the last word.  Sin and evil are not the ultimate powers of the universe.  Death does not get the final laugh.  Jesus Christ is risen from the dead. Forgiveness and love and life are the final realities of the world.  The power of God is stronger than any tomb.  Jesus Christ is risen today.

The good news of Easter is not only that Jesus Christ has been raised from the dead and now lives.  The good news is that the power of the resurrection can transform our lives as well.  New life is possible, now, here, today.  But for that to happen, we need not only to be reminded of resurrection, but also to practice resurrection.

Maybe resurrection, like everything else, needs to be practiced.

In Jim Wallis’ book, God’s Politics, he tells a powerful story about practicing resurrection.  He tells a story that took place in South Africa when, to all outward appearances, apartheid still had a strangle-hold on power and people and Nelson Mandela was still in jail.  Wallis was at an ecumenical service at the Cathedral of St. George’s where Archbishop Desmond Tutu was presiding, when a group of the notorious South African Security Police broke into the service.  Wallis writes:

“Tutu stopped preaching and just looked at the intruders as they lined the walls of his cathedral, wielding writing pads and tape recorders. … They had already arrested Tutu and other church leaders just a few weeks before and kept them in jail for several days. … After meeting their eyes with his steely gaze, [Tutu] acknowledged their power ... but reminded them that he served a higher power than their political authority.

Then, in the most extraordinary challenge to political tyranny I have ever witnessed, Archbishop Tutu told the representatives of South African Apartheid, ‘Since you have already lost, I invite you today to come and join the winning side!’

He said it with a smile on his face and an enticing warmth in his invitation, but with a clarity and a boldness that took everyone’s breath away.

The congregation’s response was electric.  The crowd was literally transformed by the bishop’s challenge to power.  From a cowering fear of the heavily armed security forces that surrounded the cathedral and greatly outnumbered the band of worshippers, we literally leaped to our feet, shouted the praises of God and began dancing.  We danced out of the cathedral to meet the awaiting police and military forces who not knowing what else to do, backed up to provide the space for the people of faith to dance for freedom in the streets of South Africa.”

Ten years later, Wallis, while attending Nelson Mandela’s inauguration as president, spoke to Archbishop Tutu and asked him if he remembered the day they had danced out of the Cathedral onto the streets, and Tutu said that, indeed, he did remember.

Wallis reflects that apartheid did not die on the day Mandela was released or inaugurated, but that it died that day of celebration at the cathedral, when they danced for freedom in the streets of South Africa.

Practice Resurrection!  Maybe resurrection, like everything else, needs to be practiced.

Is it possible to practice resurrection in our own cities and streets?  Can we, like those first women who came to the tomb, practice resurrection in our own lives?

The promise of Easter is that we can.  We don’t need to go about looking for the dead among the living, and we don’t need to go about like we are the dead among the living.  Jesus Christ has been raised from the dead.  He is alive.  Because he is the first fruits, we can be assured that a similar future awaits us.  We need to be reminded of the truth of the resurrection over and over again, but we also need to practice resurrection.  The truth of Easter is that the promise of new life doesn’t just await us in the future, but that we are able to live new lives, here and now, by the power of the resurrection.

Because resurrection, like everything else, needs to be practiced.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.