Homily for the Easter Vigil, March 30, 2013 Graves Chapel

Tonight, in the Old Testament stories about God’s rescuing of the Israelite people, how Moses led them out of Egypt, we see a God who goes to great lengths to demonstrate his abiding love to his people. The same God who sent Moses to rescue the Israelites from slavery in Egypt sent his Son into the world to save all people through the power of love.

In St. John’s gospel, in Chapter 12, Jesus enters Jerusalem for the last time, riding a borrowed donkey.  Palm Sunday is the commemoration of that triumphal entry, when the people thronged the streets to see the great teacher, shouting “Hosanna!” His followers must have exulted at the prospect that their beloved Lord would finally take the reins of political leadership, but that was not what Jesus—or the Father--had in mind.  Later that day, Jesus says to his disciples, “Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”  Jesus explains the necessity of his approaching death.  His disciples, who refused to believe he would die, didn’t get it. 

Like the disciples, we may not fully understand or accept why every human life, at some time or another, endures the darkness of pain, suffering, fear, or grief, but we know such agony is unavoidable. Now, two millennia after the life of the carpenter from Nazareth, maybe we can agree that what Jesus said about his death bearing fruit was extraordinarily accurate: Today, according to the Pew Research Center, there are 2 BILLION, 180 MILLION Christians in the world. Why are so many still attracted to the Christian way?

In the name of radical love, Jesus died a cruel death so that his followers would have assurance that death is not the final human reality.  Christ’s resurrection promises the ultimate salvation. His beloved followers, even the majority who were not present with Him near the cross, had their fears and doubts removed by their encounters with the resurrected Jesus. Thanks to Mary Magdalene and the other women who first saw the risen Lord, the disciples were called into action and founded the early church. They finally understood the power of Christ’s love to bear fruit. The church rests on a love that denies the self for the greater good of others.

 The words LOVE and CHURCH both imply community. It takes at least two people—the one who loves and the beloved—for love to happen. Church is a fellowship of Christians, and the church universal is one very large family. The church is called the “bride of Christ” to suggest the ideal closeness borne of Christian love.  Father Edmond Browning, former Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, has this to say about community: “There is nothing more important than community. We are in community from the moment of conception, dependent upon our mother, our bodies sustained by her heartbeat. The mysterious doctrine of the Trinity is really all about this fact: Even God has never been alone. The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, that incomprehensible three–in-one that has always been and will always be—God is a relationship.”  Isn’t that a wonderful thing to ponder?

This Holy Week I’ve been especially conscious of Jesus as a member of that special kind of relationship we call a family. March 25^th is always celebrated in the church as Annunciation Day, the day when the angel appeared to Mary and told her that she would bear the son of God.  This year, Annunciation Day fell on the Monday of Holy Week, and it was a good reminder of how Mary was with her son from beginning to end.  From Bethlehem to Golgotha, Mary was a constant in Jesus’s life. She was one of the few gathered beneath the cross.  We can only try to imagine how much pain she suffered watching her son die in that terrible way. Let’s go a step further and try to imagine God’s anguish over the pain his son endured.  As did Jesus, God knew this pain was necessary and would bear fruit.  Knowing that didn’t make it less painful.

So here we are at last to the fulfillment of the promise: Easter morning is upon us, and the Lord Jesus will rise to new life. Jesus’s experience on the cross, his entering into the darkness of death, is the revelation of God’s covenant with us. God KNOWS how much we hurt, and God chooses to be with us, to comfort us, in all our suffering. That Trinity, which Bishop Browning called a relationship?  We are invited to join it.  In fact, we are already members of the body of Christ whether we choose to be or not.  The promise of eternal love is always extended in our direction, in this life and the next. That is why when we turn our hearts toward God, we find God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit already there, awaiting us. Maybe they are saying, “What took you so long?”

Allelujah! Amen.

Homily for Good Friday, March 29, 2013

Shall We Follow?

Today, Good Friday, is Ground Zero of the church year. On this day the Alpha and the Omega are revealed to us, the pinnacle of divine love and the depth of utter despair.  When the Son of God entered the city of Jerusalem along palm-strewn streets, he knew where his journey was taking him, although none of his disciples knew, or even wanted to know. The Holy Prince astride a donkey said of himself, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”  Yet the way that Jesus took, amid the sounds of loud hosannas, was the way toward silence, darkness, and the tomb. As his followers, we are asked to join him on his way. Shall we?

This way is a way of pain—immense pain and suffering.

The Roman soldiers flog Jesus.

They place a crown of thorns on his head,

implanting it so deeply that blood streams down his face.

They take his hands roughly in their own, pressing each hand against the jagged wood of the cross. 

The blows of the hammer reverberate as the nails

penetrate his palms.

Then, they nail each of his feet to the cross.

Hoisting it above Golgotha, the soldiers ram the cross into the hard earth.

Helpless to support his own weight,

the torso of Jesus slumps forward.

In this position, it becomes very hard for him to breathe.

The longer he hangs there, the harder it becomes.

Beneath the cross, a few of his loved ones—very few—are gathered. 

Knowing they suffer to see him on the cross,

his suffering is increased.

This way is a way of betrayal and abandonment.

Jesus sees his aunt, his mother, Mary Magdalene,

and his beloved disciple John in the crowd.

But where are the others?

Judas had betrayed him, as Jesus had predicted.

In his anger over Jesus’s arrest,

Peter cut off the ear of the high priest’s slave.

Yet, Peter betrayed him, too, and is nowhere to be seen.

As he moves closer to the predetermined end,

Jesus believes himself to be completely abandoned.

St. Matthew tells us that he says, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

This way is a way of utter loneliness and isolation.

The handful of beloved witnesses weeping beneath the cross

cannot accompany Jesus into his death.

The human Jesus, a man alone, is now revealed in his mortality.

“It is finished,” he says.

A man’s broken, bloodied, and pierced body, lifeless and limp,

is lowered to the ground below.

The way of Jesus is a way that relinquishes all attachments.

In his willing acceptance of the cross, Jesus let go of everything.

He surrendered the things he loved.

From the cross, he gives the care of his mother to John, saying

“Woman, here is your son.”

Yes, this is a statement of love for both of them.

But what pain did it cost Jesus to leave his beloved behind?

This way is a way of deep darkness, fully entered.

And then, there is the tomb itself.

Joseph of Arimathea lays Jesus gently in a nearby tomb,

a cave hewn into earth and rock, a place both cold and damp.

Sealed shut by an immense stone, the cave is inescapable.

And dark. Very dark.

As we follow the way of the cross with Jesus, let us remember that He experienced the utter darkness of the tomb because darkness is part of every human life.  Darkness, of one kind or another, is unavoidable.  The intertwining of human lives  renders both great joy and great sorrow.

Richard Rohr, Franciscan priest and author of the book Everything Belongs explains the crucifixion in this way:

“The cross is not the price that Jesus had to pay to talk God into loving us. It is simply where love will lead us. Jesus names the agenda. If we love, if we give ourselves to feel the pain of the world, it will crucify us.”  

Again:

“The cross is not the price that Jesus had to pay to talk God into loving us. It is simply where love will lead us. Jesus names the agenda. If we love, if we give ourselves to feel the pain of the world, it will crucify us.”

As he took leave of his disciples at the Last Supper, Jesus commanded them, “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” Jesus tells us love is required. He shows us love is worth the pain it causes.

Amen.