Easter Sunday

Isaiah 65:17-25; Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24; Acts 10:34-43; John 20:1-18

Alleluia! Christ is risen! Easter, It’s a great day! During the past several days, we have journeyed with Jesus through an extraordinary experience. On Maundy Thursday, the Thursday before Easter, we remembered Jesus gathering together with his disciples for one last meal. On Good Friday, the following day, we remembered the pain of betrayal, the brutality of crucifixion, and the seeming finality of death. And today, Easter Sunday, we celebrate the fact that death is not final, and that Christ was raised again.

We get dressed up and we come to church. Many of us will have family or friends over, or we might be going to someone else’s house. Is anyone else thinking about roast leg of lamb? Strategically pierced and stuffed with cloves of garlic, covered with fresh rosemary, salt, and pepper. The simpler, the better really. Carefully roasted until there’s a certain crispness to the outside and done medium-rare in the middle. A little bit of mint jelly, to contrast with the savoriness of the lamb, although I know that there are those who consider this to be culinary boorishness. And, in my family at least, you never have roast lamb without dandelion greens with hot bacon dressing. But that’s probably more of a Pennsylvania Dutch thing, than it is a Maryland thing.

I’m guessing that most of us who are here today are probably familiar with the basics of the Easter story. It seems like an awful lot of to-do for a story that we already know, doesn’t it? So, there’s got to be more to it. Why else would we put in so much effort? Why the dressing up, and the travelling; the coming to church and the big meal? Because there’s more to this story than just “the story”.

How many of you here today have ever seen the show “Dragnet”?  We loved watching it when we were kids, especially if they had hippies on. Or, if you ever listen to “The Big Broadcast” on WAMU, you can hear the old radio version. Both were written and directed by Jack Webb, who played the main character: A Los Angeles police detective named “Joe Friday” And, of course, Joe Friday’s signature line, his catchphrase was, “Just the facts.” A great approach for police work. But not such a great approach, when it comes to the story of the resurrection.

The story of the resurrection is not just the story of the resurrection. Because it’s not all about Jesus. In the Gospels, the stories of Jesus’ life, Jesus makes sure that his work, his ministry; his preaching and teaching, his healing and casting out demons… Jesus goes to great pains to make clear that it’s not about him. Everything he does is designed to point not to himself, but to something and someone far bigger than him. The someone who’s bigger than Jesus is, of course, God. The something that’s bigger than Jesus is the Kingdom of God.

Too often, when we hear the phrase “The Kingdom of God” the first thing we think of is heaven, the promise of resurrection and some sort of afterlife. The problem with that line of thinking is that it’s not what Jesus is talking about. The Kingdom of God is not a place. The Kingdom of God is an event. It’s what happens when Jesus does the things that he does. When Jesus heals someone, it’s the Kingdom of God happening. When Jesus delivers someone from a demon, it’s the Kingdom of God happening. When Jesus feeds thousands from a few loaves of bread and a measly couple of fish, it’s the Kingdom of God happening. When Jesus sits down to eat with tax collectors and prostitutes, when he touches untouchable people suffering from leprosy, it’s the Kingdom of God happening. The Kingdom of God is what happens when healing and restoration take place. And it’s not just physical healing and restoration, either.

When Jesus tells a young man that his sins are forgiven, it’s a Kingdom of God moment.

In the story of the prodigal son, when the younger brother sheepishly returns home, having squandered his half of his father’s property, having nothing to his name but the stink of the pigs that he’d been feeding; And while he’s still a great distance off, the father, waiting at the front of the house sees him, runs to him, embraces him, and in spite of all the pain and embarrassment the younger son has caused, welcomes him back into the family… That’s a Kingdom of God moment.

The Kingdom of God is what happens when the boundaries that separate us from God or from one another are broken down and those who have been separated are restored in their relationship with each other. Sometimes those boundaries are the ones that we construct for ourselves, like the self-righteous, hard-hearted anger that we hold onto when we feel that someone has wronged us. And sometimes those boundaries are the ones that are imposed upon us by an unjust society, like racial segregation, religious or ethnic discrimination, or political divisions. The Kingdom of God is what happens when, through the power of God, we are able to see beyond ourselves and our own often selfish wants and desires to see the genuine, desperate need of those around us, those to whom, up until that moment, we were blind. Kingdom of God moments show us that there is more to this world and this life, than just what’s in front of our nose.

It’s not a typical Kingdom, because it’s not about accumulating and holding onto control, or power, or possessions. It’s not about having the right car, or the right house, or being in the right neighborhood, or having the most important positions of power and influence. In fact, it’s the exact opposite of that.  It’s not about accumulating; it’s about giving it away. The Kingdom of God helps us to recognize that we spend too much of our time living out of a spirit of fear and scarcity. The Kingdom of God helps us to see beyond ourselves, and to realize that we have the opportunity and the responsibility to be a part of something that’s far bigger than us, the things that we own, or the things that own us. Kingdom of God moments help us to glimpse the unfathomable generosity of God’s love, mercy, and compassion. They’re those moments that help us to realize that, rather than living out of a self-centered, greed-driven spirit of scarcity and fear, we have the opportunity to live out of the spirit of God’s unending, overwhelming abundance.

Sometimes, these kinds of moments are big and flashy! Like Moses leading the people of Israel out of Egypt, across the dried bed of the Sea of Reeds, and then the waters rushing back in, delivering the unarmed Hebrews from Pharaoh’s army.

Sometimes it’s like the lesson from Isaiah for today, with its amazing promise of restoration to a country that has suffered in exile for generations.

Sometimes it’s like that. But more often than not, it isn’t. Jesus compares it to things that tend to be small, even fragile. A mustard seed, which is a tiny little seed, like carrot seeds. Yeast, which will only flourish under some rather specific conditions. Handfuls of seed grain, broadcast by a farmer, only a portion of which lands in good soil and is able to grow.

Sometimes Kingdom of God moments are big and bold. But more often than not, they’re quieter, more intimate. Like a woman who comes to a grave early in the morning. The grave of her teacher. The woman who supported his ministry for three years. The woman from whom he had cast out seven demons. And then to see him publicly shamed and ridiculed, crucified, murdered… She’s so deep in her own grief, wracked and overwhelmed by her pain. She’s imprisoned by it, numbed by it, oblivious to the rest of the world because of it.

Just look at how she responds to things. It’s like nothing even registers… She discovers the open grave, one last indignity visited upon the poor man who was her friend and teacher. She does go and tell the others, but then… That’s when we see the numbness take over. It’s just too much. She goes back to the grave and two angels are there, all bright and shining, dressed in white. In every other place in the Bible, when an angel appears to someone the first response is fear. Mary doesn’t even seem to register that there’s anything out of the ordinary here. Her sole concern is her fear that someone has stolen the body. Then she turns around, literally almost stumbling into Jesus. But the veil of her grief, her pain, her suffering is so heavy and dark, she doesn’t even recognize him. And then he says her name. And the moment she hears the sound of his voice… Jesus had said, “[The shepherd] calls his own sheep by name …[and] they know his voice.” And here we see the power that comes with being seen, being recognized. Jesus says, “Mary”. And suddenly she’s able to see beyond herself, she’s freed from the prison of her grief. She throws her arms around him! And we see the power of the Kingdom of God. We see the power of the resurrection! And I’m not just talking about Jesus. Mary also experiences a kind of resurrection. She rises from her own grave of grief, fear, and anger. And then he reminds her that this is about more than just her, and that it’s about more than just him. You’ve got to let go of me, Mary. I’ve not yet returned to God, the Father. Go to my brothers and tell them, 'I return to my Father and your Father, my God and your God.'" Mary goes to the disciples and tells them, "I saw Him!!" And she told them everything he said to her.

See, these kinds of experiences are not an end unto themselves. They’re the kinds of experiences that make God’s presence real to us. They’re the kinds of experiences that call us into ministry.

You don’t have to be Jesus to make this kind of experience happen. You don’t need to have superpowers. You don’t have to have the biggest, best, strongest, faith possible. It only takes a little bit. Faith the size of a mustard seed. It takes a little bit of faith, some compassion, and heart that’s willing to let God in and be a part of things.

We’ve seen it at work here at Calvary! When our young people get together to pack lunches for Escape Ministries, they’re not just doing something nice for people in need. They’re embodying the Kingdom of God.

When you sign up for our in-reach ministry and take a meal to someone who has experienced serious illness or profound loss, you’re not just being nice. You’re showing them compassion in the name of Jesus. You’re bringing the Kingdom of God to them.

This past Lenten season, when our Faith Boosters classes collected money to be used for the benefit of the victims of the wildfires in California, you weren’t just providing them with basic necessities and financial support. You provided them with a glimpse of the Kingdom of God.

See what I mean? In faith, we do what we are able. And then we trust God to bless our actions, and to do the rest.

Easter is more than just a story. Easter is more than just history. Celebrating Easter recognizes what God has done, true. But it also challenges us to see what God is doing today; to see where the Kingdom of God is happening today. And it calls us to play a part in making it happen in the future.

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

And may the power of Easter, the power of the Resurrection, open your eyes, your ears, and your hearts; That you might see the Kingdom of God happening in your midst and that you might accept the challenge of making it happen wherever you go!  AMEN