The Feast of the Resurrection
April 15, 2001

By
The Rev. Ann M. Smith

Based on Luke 24:1-9

A priest dies and is waiting in line at the Pearly Gates. Ahead of him is someone dressed in sunglasses, a loud shirt, leather jacket and jeans.

Saint Peter addresses him, "Who are you, so that I may know whether or not to admit you to the Kingdom of Heaven?"

He answers, "I'm Joe Cohen, taxi driver, of Noo Yawk City".

Saint Peter consults his list. He smiles and says to him, "Take this silken robe and golden staff and enter the Kingdom of Heaven." The taxi driver enters heaven with his robe and his staff.

Next it's the Priest's turn. He stands erect, and says proudly, "I am Joseph Snow, Pastor of St. Mary's for the last forty-three years".

Saint Peter consults his list; he says to him, "Take this cotton robe and wooden staff and enter the Kingdom of Heaven."

"Just a minute", says the priest. "That man is a taxi driver and he gets a silken robe and golden staff, and I get cotton and wood? How can this be?"

"Up here, we work by results," said Saint Peter. "While you preached, people slept, while he drove, people prayed."

Why on Easter morning of all times am I starting my sermon with a joke? In the Eastern Orthodox Church it is traditionally a time to tell jokes. Easter, you see, is the time when God got the last laugh on Satan. At the same time, I hope you enjoyed it. For it may well be the last laugh in a very serious sermon about the fraud of Easter.

What do you associate with Easter? At a meeting we were asked to recount the story of a memorable Easter. One person told about rolling eggs down a hill in her hometown in England. Another told about growing up in a rather poor family with many children. His parents would put practical gifts into brown paper bags with each child’s name on it. They would hunt for the bags with their names on them. There were stories about Easter Egg Hunts, about crocuses coming up in the garden, about family dinners, about huge chocolate bunnies and about butterflies.

But that, I want to tell you, is not Easter. Easter is about a dead Jesus, horribly crucified, who came back. It is about a Saviour, so radical, so counter-cultural, that the prevailing culture killed him. He was a threat, and so they got rid of him—or so they thought. But surely he is a greater threat now that he is alive, resurrected, and just as radical as ever. This is not "The Oprah Winfrey Show" with Oprah meting out advice to needy people. This is not Leo Buscaglia teaching people how to fix the hurts in their lives and get the love they need. It is not Anne Landers or Dr. Ruth dispensing advice and warm fuzzies and things that we want to hear. This is our radical Saviour opposing all the terrible things that go on in the world around us! Convicting us of the things that we need to change! Standing as an advocate for the poor in a wealthy world! Fighting against poverty in a world of plenty! Standing up for the rights of the powerless and the helpless! Speaking out against all the abuses of our materialistic society!

This risen Saviour is the same Jesus who said that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the Kingdom. He is the very one who taught that we should love our neighbour as ourselves. What a radical thought that is, for he said that our neighbour was not the person just like us, but the one who needed our love, the one to whom we need to reach out to in care and compassion. He said that to be forgiven, one must be forgiving. He said to treat one another with respect. Down on his hands and knees before his disciples, he told us to wash one another's feet. He told us to follow the way of shalom in dealing with others—to turn the other cheek. He told us to be like him, to follow the way of the cross, and to give without counting the cost. But most of all he told us to believe that God loves us, and that we, insignificant creatures that we are, count. Even the hairs on our head!

It is a joke, isn't it, this Easter that we celebrate! The tables are turned. Nothing is as it seems to be. Early in the morning on the first day of the week the holy women went to the tomb. They were carrying spices, which were used for embalming. Because of the Sabbath preparations, they had been unable to properly prepare Jesus' body for burial, but they had taken note of what was needed. They were going back prepared to finish the task. They knew what to expect. They had been at the tomb when the stone had been rolled across the entrance.

Many of the others had run away in fear during the events of the past few days. But these faithful women had remained through it all. They had heard the stories told about how he would not die, but they had seen it with their own eyes. They had stood at the foot of the cross. They had heard him breathe his last breath. And they knew that the body decays and that no power of nature can change that.

They were silent as they approached the tomb, intent on doing what had to be done. They didn’t notice the garden with its beautiful flowers. They didn’t even hear the birds singing their joyful chorus. They did feel that terrible, lonely emptiness that sets in when one you love has died.

And then suddenly nothing made sense. The stone was rolled away. They stooped and entered the narrow doorway expecting to find the body lying in the chamber, wrapped in linen cloths. But they did not find what they expected. There was no body.

Instead, two men in dazzling clothes speaking to them of incomprehensible things: "Why are you looking for the living among the dead?" The words cut through to their very soul. Had they not thought as they watched him being carried to the tomb that this dead man was more alive than all of them?

The tomb is empty. Jesus isn't there. The joke is on us. Oh, we can continue to drag him out for weddings and funerals. We can pull out all the stops for baptisms and first communions. But the joke is that none of that matters one little bit if Christ is not at the centre of it all. For Jesus is a way of life. We need to follow that way. We need to follow all the way from the cross to the emptiness of that tomb in the garden.

Do I really believe that Christ rose from the dead? What ought to happen in my life if I really believe? How do I demonstrate in my life that Christ is alive and that his saving grace and abundant life are available to every human creature?