Breaking the Modern Day Taboo
Easter Day 2009
Mark 16:1-8
4/12/2009
Jim Melnyk

Hear, then, a parable of the kingdom of heaven: The kingdom of heaven is as if a person had a heart that had slowly turned to stone over the years – hard, sharp and flinty, with barely a perceptible beat deeply within. To affect a cure the surgeon stops the heart's feeble beating, and takes away the person's own breath, using a machine to do that vital work. Taking a scalpel, the surgeon then cuts open the body and removes the heart of stone and replaces it with a heart of flesh – a heart that feels, that cares, and that loves. Then the surgeon tenderly sows the person's flesh together and causes the new heart to beat, and returns the patient's breath to its own body.
        
Again: The kingdom of God is like a grave where the newly dead has been buried and a great stone rolled across the opening. Morning comes. The stone is rolled away. And the grave is empty.
        
I wonder what's more improbable. Is it that human beings have figured out a way to stop a person's diseased heart and remove it from the chest cavity – all the while keeping that person “alive” on a machine – and then replace that broken, wounded heart with another heart, one donated by someone who has also just died? Or is it that the God of all creation – a God who brought all things into being – can somehow reach deeply within us and somehow turn a broken and wounded heart of stone into a living, beating, heart of flesh?
        
I wonder what's more improbable. Is it that human beings have figured out how to take a person who has literally died to this world and jump start us back to life? Or is it that the God of all creation – the God who said “Let there be light” – the God who jump started the whole of creation and said “This is very good!”, is it that this God can raise from the dead the One whose life and teachings could somehow make broken hearts sing, could make ruined bodies dance, and shattered spirits soar?
        
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out which of these scenarios seem most probable to most 21st century sojourners. As Christians we are called to live in a “post-resurrection” mindset – hearing the stories of Easter Day and the days that follow as “folks in-the-know” – as folks who have heard and claimed these stories as our own. But many Christians today live in what Anglican priest Brian McGowan calls a “past-resurrection” mindset. That is, the idea that it's time we all moved past that kind post-resurrection belief – the belief that something very real and very much experiential happened then, and happens still – in that Easter moment.         
        
And I wonder if it's possible for 21st century westerners to breach that modern day taboo against seeing resurrection as real – as only seeing it as fable or fairy tale? Can we open our imaginations to the possibility that God just might have done something incredibly unique – something incredibly mind-boggling and beyond the ordinary – something uniquely extraordinary in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus then – and therefore in our lives today as well?
        
In many ways we've lost the wonder and power of Easter. Author Lauren Winner writes: “The shocking claim of resurrection has, of course, been domesticated. Easter,” she writes, “is too often allegorized into meaninglessness, with seasonal greeting cards, and even sermons that emphasize renewal or hope or rejuvenation. But,” she concludes, “as Fleming Rutledge once asked, would the disciples really have 'trembled with [terror and] amazement' because the flowers bloomed again?” (Sojourners Online, 4/12/2009)
        
This morning we've heard both the oldest written account of the resurrection – from Paul's letter to the Corinthians, and our oldest Gospel account of the resurrection – from Mark's Gospel. There is nothing very domesticated about either account. Paul is rather straight-forward. This is what happened. No dialogue. No visions. No passing through locked doors. No breakfast on the beach. No “feed my sheep.” Just the resurrected Jesus.
        
Mark is even less domesticated. Jesus doesn't even come on stage. A young man in a white robe tells the women that Jesus has been raised – and that they are to proclaim the resurrection to the other disciples – and send them back to Galilee where it all began, and where the risen Christ will be waiting for them. The undomesticated Gospel ends with the words, “So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” Period. End of sentence. End of Gospel. At least, most scholars agree this is how Mark's Gospel ends… “and they said nothing to anyone, for – they – were – afraid!” Period!
        
One commentator asks, “Is this any way to run a resurrection?” Of course it is – if we're willing to live with the jarring unpredictability of a God who in the end won't stand for injustice – who won't stand for hatred or bigotry in any form – who won't be defeated by the cross or stopped by any stone rolled in front of a grave – a God for whom desolation will never be the last word!
        
The truth is Easter cannot be domesticated and still be Easter. Easter is a proclamation of life, but it is a dangerous proclamation! No wonder Mark's account ends with terror and amazement – the author was close enough to the experience to know that Easter was God's comment on the crucifixion – that following Jesus and proclaiming Good News to what some consider the wrong sorts of folks can run you smack into the cross – whether it be the cross empire of Rome or the empires of today. There is nothing tame, or sweet, or sappy about Easter outside the contents of our children's Easter baskets or the contents in the plastic eggs hidden for today's hunt.
        
I was emailing back and forth about Easter sermons with my sister-in-law Glyn earlier this week. Like St. Mark's, Glyn's congregation heard the account from Mark as well this morning. Glyn posited to me that one possible reason “the women fled in terror was the realization that if Jesus was still around they would have to change their lives and act like it! If he were just dead they could anoint him, then mourn [him] and get on with their daily routines. But” she added, “if [Jesus] was going to meet them in Galilee (in whatever form resurrection might take) he would have plans for the future and they would be faced with the choice of whether or not to go along with [the whole idea].” And so I wonder, do we dare travel to Galilee? You and I? Do we dare travel to Galilee?
        
In his book, Jesus: Uncovering the Life, Teachings, and Relevance of a Religious Revolutionary, Marcus Borg writes, “What I am confident of is this. The followers of Jesus had an experience of him after his death that convinced them that he continued to be a figure of the present.” This is my experience of Jesus as well. But it's not a Hallmark Jesus with crocuses and lilies blossoming up around his feet. Rather it's a Jesus who has harrowed the gates of Hell. It's a Jesus who proclaims life where death has reigned. It's a Jesus who tells us to love God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength and who tells us to love our neighbor as one like ourselves. It's a Jesus who tells us blessed are the poor, and the poor in spirit; blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness; blessed are the peacemakers – for they shall be sons and daughters of God. It's a Jesus who tells us to love our enemies and pray for those who seek to do us harm – who tells his disciples to go back to Galilee. Go back to where it all started – to where they were baptized. Go back to where the Gospel began – go back and make a choice. Go back to your nets and tax booths – or roll away the stone and follow me!
        
It's as if Mark tells us, “Okay, now you've heard the story – now you know the end. Keep on going Mary! Keep on going Peter! Keep on going St. Mark's! I love it when our Bishop tells says this to us – Keep on going, St. Mark's! Go back to Galilee. Go back to the beginning. Go back to the first chapter and read it all again – this time understanding what this Jesus is all about – and then keep on going!
        
That's sort of where Jennifer and Dylan started last night, and where little Charlie starts today – at the waters of Baptism. It's where Julie, Ginger, Bob and Rich headed in their confirmations last night as well. It's where we all need to head – back to the beginning – back to Galilee. And then we preach the Good News for all we're worth – in season and out – knowing that resurrection is one way of pointing toward God's vision – of pointing toward God's dream for this world. Do we dare travel to Galilee? Amen.

©2009 Jim Melnyk