John 20:1-2; 11-18
April Fools’ Day is perfectly timed this year, don’t you think? Now look, I’ve been fooled more than enough times on April 1st—mostly by my dad, who is notorious for doing this. One year, when I was 12 years old, my dad somehow managed to put red dots all over my face with a marker while I was sleeping the night before. I woke up on April 1st, went downstairs for breakfast, and my parents said: “Gee, Josh, you look like you broke out in a rash or acne or something. You better go check by looking in the mirror.” So my 12-year-old paranoia got the best of me and I ran to the bathroom, took one look in the mirror,
AND FREAKED THE HECK OUT.
I could tell you some other stories, but that’s enough triggering for now. This is also what I like to call “low-lying-fruit-for-lazy-pastors-who-think-they’re-funny” day, because I guarantee that there are thousands of sermonizers leading with an April Fools’ prank or joke of some kind, and then the inevitable statement at the end that God played the ultimate April Fool’s joke by raising Jesus from the dead…blah, blah, blah….
I just couldn’t resist.
Ok, now that that’s out of the way, I’d like to talk with you about resurrection and how it pertains to your personal story being sacred in and of itself, and how we are given a chance [if we risk it] to resurrect/reinvent ourselves periodically.
But let’s back up for a moment.
I’ve been thinking a lot about how we give meaning to things.
You know what I’m getting at? Example: you slip and fall on the ice and bruise your tailbone [ouch] and miss a couple of days at work or school. You think, while your bum is healing, about what it all means. Did I fall because I was distracted? Is this supposed to teach me something? Am I supposed to slow down, work less, appreciate the small things more? Should I get different shoes?
What does this mean?
And so, you assign meaning to the fall on the ice. But really, if we’re honest here, did it mean anything? You slipped on some ice that you probably could not see and anybody walking that same patch of ground would also slip. You fell because your feet whipped out from under you, causing you to try to get back your balance, and you ended up falling on your rear end as a result of it, because your body and mind prevented you from hitting your head [which would have been much worse]. You simply slipped and fell on some ice. That’s what happened–if we don’t judge the event or try to give it meaning.
We assign meaning to things all the time, don’t we? And we certainly do it in the sacred/religious stories that we have heard for a long time, don’t we?
Case in point–I’m guessing that all of you have differing views about the stories in the NT Gospels [in this case John] about Jesus of Nazareth’s resurrection. Your meaning-making started the first time you heard this story and hasn’t ended since then. So let’s have some fun. Let’s look at John’s story like the slip and fall story on the ice, shall we? What actually happened? Let’s address that first, and then we’ll circle back to meaning-making later.
First, Jesus died. He dead body was put inside a cave and wrapped in burial clothes.
It was the first day of the week [could be Saturday or Sunday in our calendars], still dark before sunrise, and Mary Magdalene, one of Jesus’ followers and friends, went to the cave. She noticed that the stone that was supposed to cover the entrance to the cave had been removed. She found some other friends of Jesus like Simon Peter and told them what she saw. They immediately assumed some people who didn’t like Jesus took his body out of the cave, and now they didn’t know where to look.
Mary then went back to the tomb and started crying. Through her teary eyes she did notice that two figures dressed in white were sitting where Jesus’ body used to be. They asked her why she was crying. Mary repeated the new version of the story that the men came up with: “Some people took Jesus’ body and we don’t know where!”
Just then, a gardener showed up and also asked her why she was crying and who she was looking for. Mary assumed that this gardener might have had something to do with it and so she asked him for the location of Jesus’ body. Then the gardener spoke her name:
And Mary realized that she was looking at Jesus of Nazareth. So she called him by his name: teacher, which was what he was to her. Jesus told her not to hold onto him [literally, let me go] but to tell her friends that Jesus was going to be with Abba God. Mary Magdalene went and told everybody that she had seen her teacher Jesus and all that he had said to her.
Now, back to meaning-making.
I will challenge you and encourage you to assign less meaning to the story, less meaning to this day called Easter, and more meaning to your everyday life.
The thing is, dear friends, when we assign great meaning to one thing or one day, other things [and people] become less meaningful.
Let me give you an example. Let’s say you go to a beautiful sanctuary or basilica or temple with the sole purpose of experiencing God. Well, if the place is awe-inspiring to you, the place will have great meaning for you. Outside of that building, though, you will assign less meaning to your daily experiences of work, school, home, etc. It applies to any and every religious ceremony or worship experience—if the music or the message or the ritual or the atmosphere make you feel the presence of God much more than other times and places, you assign great meaning to that worship service or ritual. And other times and places have less meaning.
And I will argue that this is contrary to what Jesus taught and lived and contrary to what resurrection is all about.
Consider that at the last meal Jesus had with his friends, they shared bread and wine and community, and Jesus pretty much said goodbye and now do this on your own. Love one another. Seek out those who are lost and suffering and love them too. Share your bread and wine and sit at table with them. It wasn’t about feeling some intense emotion about the ritual of Communion each time you eat crackers and drink grape juice. There was no more meaning in the ritual than brushing your teeth.
And it’s the same for resurrection.
Resurrection is meant to be a daily, ongoing activity. It’s not a one-shot deal, a one-time event. It’s not a thing reserved for religious myths and stories, Easter parades and hymns, or special prayers and ceremonies. Resurrection, this beautiful-amazing-chaotic-universal idea is in seeing yourself as new. It is about not ignoring the suffering or pain you’ve experienced or are experiencing. It is embracing all of it—all that you are and feel and experience–as holy. In this way all the places and times in your daily life are meaningful. And God is present in all of it—in the crap, in the darkness, in the pain, the doubt, the melancholy, the joy, the laughter, the tears, the coming out, the staying in, the celebrating, and the mourning.
Because notice in the story that those who followed Jesus of Nazareth “saw” the resurrected Jesus in many different ways, according to who they were and where they were. But in every case, the resurrected Jesus told them to let go of the past and to start to live their lives as resurrected people.
This is the shift in paradigm and in meaning-making. Resurrection isn’t limited to a sacred book or a story or one person or one day. Resurrection, like the Spirit, is loose in the world, and is happening in each of us.
We don’t have to be the same every day.
We don’t have to be loyal to old paradigms. We have the freedom to let our curiosity run wild, to explore and to discover more about ourselves and what living is, no matter what stage of life we are in.
So may your hours and days all have meaning. May your sacred spaces be everywhere you roam. And may you embrace the possibility of resurrection as an ongoing process, surprising you and shaping you. And may you recognize the daily lives of others as sacred and holy and meaningful—all of it.