Morning Prayer: Tom Lyda Choral Amen Hymn of Hope *Now the Green Blade Rises* The Witness of Scripture: John 20: 1-18 Anthem *Worthy is the Lamb* G.F. Handel. FCC Chancel Choir Sermon *Whom Are You Looking For* David Spain
Recorded on April 9, 2023
It was 3 years ago April 9th, when early in the morning of that day my mother gently took her last breath on God’s good earth. That particular year, April 9th was Maundy Thursday, but whether April 9th falls on Maundy Thursday or Easter Sunday, this day is filled with deep meaning for any who have lost loved ones—and that includes every one of us.Today is the day that, perhaps with the same tears Mary had in her eyes in the garden that first Easter morning, we also sing the greatest good news we have to proclaim, that as Charles Wesley so perfectly wrote, “Soar we now where Christ has led, Alleluia! Following our exalted Head, Alleluia! Made like him, like him we rise, Alleluia! Ours the cross, the grave, the skies, Alleluia!”
We remember loved ones for many reasons, and today’s particular remembrance of Carol Hanna Spain has much to do with grammar. She was an English teacher, a stalwart grammarian, the go to person when the question was ‘Is it who or whom; is it lie or lay; is it was or were?’ She would look at today’s bulletin and observe—“Handel, excellent; liturgies, wonderful; sermon title—uh oh! You don’t end a sentence with a preposition. It reads better ‘For whom are you looking?’” “But, I’m just quoting what John wrote.” “Yes, that is true but for whom are you looking is grammatically proper even if it sounds a bit stiff. And then with humor she might conclude “that is something up with which I cannot put!”
Candidly, no matter how we say it, Easter is the kind of day when prepositions are not the only thing that feels out of order. John’s gospel telling of this day brings that feeling to full expression. John writes that it was still dark when Mary Magdalene went to the tomb. Darkness describes not only the time of night but also the feeling within—the grief and sorrow Mary feels because of what happened to this one who had liberated her from the pain that had too long beguiled her. This one hailed as the light of all people has now been relegated to the darkness of the tomb. Mary is where we find ourselves at some point in life—confused, disheartened. Painful as all this is, the Biblical story reminds us that faith does not live constantly at high noon. As Heidi Haverkamp has written, “a confused and bumbling state is often described in scripture. Both Mary Magdalene and Peter go to the tomb before dawn, probably sleep deprived, foggy, distraught, and have no idea how to understand what they are seeing. Peter runs away, and Mary thinks she is talking to the gardener.Nicodemus sought out Jesus in the middle of the night and is totally flummoxed by Jesus’ words. Jacob wrestles with an angel in the middle of the night, all alone by the river. The Israelites wander in the desert for 40 years, wondering why or what for, probably feeling more lost than chosen. Moses had to enter the cloud of unknowing on Sinai before he could receive God’s word.” (The Christian Century, April 2023, p. 26) Religion does a disservice when it suggests that faith is always lived at high noon. Mary goes to the tomb when it is dark—this is more than the time of day.
The story John tells of resurrection morning is 18 verses long, 15 of which are told before resurrection is realized.That is 5/6ths of the story, 83% of John’s Easter story is life before resurrection is realized. There is an honesty about that. Yes, resurrection comes, but it may not happen in a flash…it may instead be that which slowly dawns, which comes over time. John would not suggest, the gospels do not suggest, and the church would not suggest that Easter has only one realization, has only one presentation. As John tells the story, Mary has come to the tomb to pay homage to Jesus, and when she sees the stone rolled away she presumes the final indignity has been perpetrated. Was it not enough that Jesus endured betrayal and death; now someone has taken him away; robbed him of resting in peace? In that moment of deep despair, Mary does a very helpful thing—she reaches out. She tells Simon Peter and the unnamed ‘disciple whom Jesus loved,’ which for all the conjecture of who that is refers not only to someone in John’s gospel but also to everyone of us for we too are disciples Jesus loves. They respond by running to the tomb to confirm what Mary has said, finding it exactly as she said. They look in and John writes they saw and believed but we are not sure what they believed because they say nothing of resurrection. Left alone once again, Mary peers in and John writes two angels are there, asking Mary a question that seems absurd—“why are you weeping?” This angelic encounter does not impact Mary and odd as that might seem to us, it fits John’s telling who pro-claimed in his first chapter that the Word has become flesh and dwells among us.Religion, faith, Easter is flesh not flash. If we have not had something religiously fantastic happen, it does not mean our faith is inferior or suspect.
You know what Mary does when she doesn’t even know it is Easter? She shows up.That places Mary in the very good company of all of us who have shown up today…that places us in her very good company.We know the jokes that are made about how the crowd is always bigger at Christmas and Easter. We don’t lament that…we celebrate that. We’ve shown up, we’ve come to a place where we, like Mary before us and with us, might be encountered by the living Christ. Thanks be to God, we’ve shown up, not because we want Easter to be reduced to some rational, reasonable explanation. We admit the empty tomb does not fit into our understanding.It is not just that prepositions are out of place today, indeed it is that our presuppositions about life are being reordered. We know there is a difference between things that do not make sense and things we cannot make sense of, for as Dietrich Bonhoeffer once wrote, “Christ did not come into this world so that we might understand him, but that we might cling to him in order to be caught up in the immense event of resurrection.” Easter proclaims even more than Bonhoeffer wrote, for Easter is not just our clinging to Christ; it is also that Christ reaches out to us.
The church in its faithful efforts does well to celebrate Christmas and Easter and we show up for that. But we know there are differences between the two…think of how we talk about these two high and holy celebrations. Christmas is something we get into, and there are so many ways to do that. Decorations go up in October and grow as we move deeper into the season. The air-waves play music, and we even ask each other, “Are you into the Christmas spirit?” Easter however is not something we get into; instead, Easter comes to get into us.The Word becomes flesh. It is striking that what tips Mary from grief to hope is her name being spoken. That moment is as wondrously mysterious as life itself, because it cannot be only that her name was spoken which had been done thousands of times in her life. It had to have been in the tone, in the inflection, in the resolute expression of love that is ever seeking, ever calling, ever encouraging, and never, ever letting us go. We do not get into Easter; Easter gets into us not simply as the promise of life that does not end but also as the promise of life that can be transformed; Easter gets into us not simply to get us into heaven but also to get heaven into us…here, now, where we live today. We show up on Easter because in a world where too often Herod’s ways are hailed as the only way, we have another message to proclaim—that God cannot be contained, that God’s ways cannot be confined, and that love’s redeeming work is still being done. Easter comes to get into us.
We mistakenly receive Easter, we miss Easter’s good news if we think of it only as something that happened a long time ago in a garden. Matt Fitzgerald observes, “Easter is [not to be] reduced to a one-off miracle in which Jesus defeats his own death. If resurrection took place for Jesus alone, it would be the only New Testament miracle rooted in His self-interest.” (Journal for Preachers, Easter 2023, p. 49)John tells us Easter, wondrous and unexpected as it is, speaks our name just as it spoke Mary’s name, but not solely to bring comfort and hope to us alone although it most certainly does bring that. Easter comes to get into us that we might carry Christ’s life into this world and to one another. The risen Christ sends Mary to tell, and that is what she does. “I have seen the Lord” is what she says, and we get to say the same thing, because we like Mary, we have shown up—and now we are sent into the world.
We know all too well that Herod and Pontius and Caiaphas claim to be the only power that matters, the only power that influences. Easter comes to us with its counter-testimony that is ours to proclaim—that as formidable as the deathly forces can be, those who embody the power of God’s love outlast those who love ungodly power. Tom Are has written, “as Easter people we do the good that is ours to do. We share the love that is ours to share, we live toward that promised day when justice will roll down like waters, when swords will be beaten into plowshares because it will finally make more sense to feed one another than to kill one another.” (Journal for Preachers, April 2023, p. 16). Easter has spoken our name, Easter comes to get into us so that we can be better and not bitter, so that we can live with hope and not despair, so that we can engage with compassion and not cynicism, so that we can act on love and not hate.
“Whom are you looking for?,” John’s gospel asks and it is a good question even if it could be phrased a bit differently. Today, it is right and good to rephrase it, for we who have shown up remember and reprise what John wrote in the very first paragraph at the start of his gospel—“the light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.” “Whom are you looking for?” We are talking about more than prepositions not ending a sentence; today, we proclaim that death does not end the sentence. That is the great good news of Easter, for the glory of this day is not so much whom we are looking for, but who is looking for us. And that passes the test for every grammarian, for everyone.“Christ, the Lord is risen today.Alleluia!”