Easter 2017

Easter 2017

Matthew 28:1-10

I always enjoy creating projects that help us think about faith in new ways, or put flesh on the bones of a theological idea. Back in Rhode Island, I had a thing called the Cross Project. It went on for a few years and changed over time. One year, I invited people to think about what the Cross meant to them, and I handed out slide film (boy does that date me) and I asked the participants to photograph images that reminded them or helped them to understand something about the cross and God’s love. They returned the slides to me at the end of Lent, and I put the images together with music and that became the Good Friday meditation. It was always quite moving to see what people came up with. Here at St. Francis’ we’ve tried to give birth to pithy one liners to describe faith- in hopes that we might convert those phrases into banners to put out on the street. And we’ve done One Word projects, and a few other things, too. So, it was with some envy that I didn’t think of this myself, that I read about a project called “The Good News in Seven Words”. 15 theologians were invited to summarize the good news of God in Christ in a mere seven words. Being theologians, some felt they had to bend the rules and came in under 7 words. What can I say-the rule benders are people after my own heart?! Anyway, here is what a few of the 15 came up with:

Christ led captivity captive; The wall of hostility has come down.
In Christ, God’s yes defeats our No. 

Divinely persistent, God really loves us. 
We are the Church of infinite chances.
Christ’s humanity occasions our divinity.
God gets the last word. God was born-we can be reborn.
Israel’s God’s bodied love continues world making.
...and my personal favorite-We are who God says we are.


So, as I was reading the Scripture for today, I was pleased to discover more Good News phrases jumping out at me from our lessons. In our first reading, from Jeremiah, we hear “the people found grace in the wilderness.” 7 words. just right! But more importantly, a wonderful description of faith. Who of us has not walked in the wilderness? and who of us has not rounded a corner-in that wilderness-and been overcome by unexpected Grace? When that happens, it is indeed a resurrection moment. I was reminded of that when I heard about the mosque that was burned in Victoria, Texas, a few months back. My family and I know Victoria well-we used to travel through there on our way to the beach in Rockport near Corpus Christi. Victoria is a town full of oil wells now-thanks to the ubiquitous presence of fracking-and not a place one would expect to have much religious diversity. But it is in fact a city inhabited by Jews, Muslims, and Christians. So, a few months ago when the local mosque burned, what do you think happened? The Jews from the synagogue gave the members of the mosque a key to the synagogue so that they would have a place to pray. Four churches also offered their space for worship. And children from a local Catholic school marched to the mosque and formed a human chain of love and peace- and presented the mosque-still smoldering from the fire-with a tree that they could plant as they began to rebuild. Finding grace in the wilderness. Today, as we celebrate the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, we say that although there is death, there is also life. Life abundant. That the end of the story is not just the cross draped with Christ’s body, but the empty tomb. Grace in the wilderness, indeed.

The next possible Good News phrase that popped up-again from Jeremiah-was this “go forth in the dance of the merrymakers.” As Christians, we are invited to the dance of joy, here in church and as we leave this place. But how do we have joy, when there is so much that weighs us down-whether our own personal challenges or the sadness in the world around us? I think it has to do with this idea of dancing. My friend Julie is an avid contra dancer. It elevates her spirit and frees her soul in ways that nothing else does. She just returned from a contra dance weekend in Charleston, South Carolina. While there, she learned about a recent study that was conducted at the University of Colorado. It was comprised of 4 study groups-people doing different forms of diet and exercise. The purpose was to examine the effects these various activities had on the brain, in particular the fornix, which is the center for the brain’s wiring. Apparently, it was the contra dance study group that fared the best in the study. They more than any other group had the most positive results on increasing the white matter in their brains. Now why would contra dancing be better than aerobic exercise, or diet, or some of the other groups in the study? Apparently BECAUSE it is primarily a social dance that requires that you keep moving between partners, and adapting as each particular dance changes, mid swing. And when I say moving between partners, I mean you might be dancing with someone who is 25 or 45 or 85 all in the same dance, so adaptability is critical. And you must pay close attention to both the caller and your dance partner or you are sunk. Somehow, in contra dancing, the need to focus and pay close attention to your partner combines with the chant of the caller and the rhythm of the music-together they become this mystical union of ingredients that enables a magical surrender to the process. If you have ever watched a group of contra dancers, what you observe is a sea of faces lit up with laughter and lightness of being. THIS is what I imagine on the faces of Mary Magdalene and the other Mary who gathered at the tomb of Jesus after they have learned that their Master is not dead, but is risen. To go forth in the dance of the merrymakers was their resurrection dance, and so it is ours. We are able to engage in this dance-not because all of the pain and suffering in our world has magically been eradicated by Christ’s victory over death-but because we believe that evil and death do not have the final word. That darkness and despair are not the end result. And that somehow how we live in this merrymaking Gospel “dance in the world” matters. It changes us, like those contra dancers, and it changes our world.

Finally, and I am always struck by these words, is the Good News phrase from our reading from Matthew: the women felt fear and great joy. There is something that seems so right about fear and great joy being experienced together, side by side. And I thought about that when I read about a thing called the Mosaic Project, which was created by Stephanie Saldana. Saldana is telling the stories of the disappearing cultural heritage in the Middle East, as war ravages cities and countries. One woman she met, an Iraqi refugee-a Christian fleeing Isis-spent over 4 months embroidering her town’s heritage in the folkloric wrap around dress that is typical to her region. In it she wove images of the town’s church, the nearby monastery, the agricultural fields, and the traditional wedding dance. She placed her name in one corner in Arabic, and in another corner in her native dialect-Syriac-which we think is a dialect that Jesus actually used....and might be quickly disappearing as these towns are obliterated. 

Another story Saldana tells is of a young Muslim man, from Syria, who is now living in Jordan. He had many Christian friends in Syria. In fact they were such a close knit group that, when it was Ramadan, his Christian friends would fast with him, and likewise, during Lent, he would share the fast with them. Able to smuggle out only a few possessions, his most prized is the Arabic New Testament that was given to him by his Christian friends. His community back home-wonderfully diverse- is now lost to him. In these stories of peoples displaced, I heard the fear of beloved traditions, of home, of that which roots and helps define them, being lost ...yet I also heard the relief-and yes, even joy, in finding the chance for a new life. It is a joy touched by fear and loss. But there is hope in their stories. In their strength. In their resilience. Even though their future is yet unclear. As I think about the two Marys at the empty tomb, I remember that THEIR fear is rooted in the unknown and the unexpected. Jesus wasn’t there-he was alive-but what in the world did that mean for them? It required a reordering of their thinking-how do they adjust to the notion of a resurrected Jesus? How do they adapt themselves to a paradigm that is so otherworldly and out of their realm that it must have seemed impossible. Inexplicable. I believe that the ability to hold fear and joy in the same embrace is to recognize that we don’t always know how to figure things out. We don’t always have the answers. For them and for us, at the heart of it all, is this wonderful mystery which holds paradox at its heart. A convergence of contrasts. Among them uncertainty and elation. Fear and joy.

A group of us gathered on Wednesday night in Holy Week to read a portion of Dorothy Sayer’s book The Man Born to Be King. In it, there was the following line, spoken by one of Jesus’ disciples: he said: when I look into my heart, I see it full of unswept dusty corners. So, if I were invited to give my 7 words for the Good News-like those 15 theologians- I think it would be this-although admittedly I’d only use 6: the dusty corners are swept clean. And you know what? They are, for that is what we celebrate this day.

The Navajo say this, at the end of all of their religious ceremonies and they say it 4 times: beauty is re-established, beauty is re-established, beauty is re-established, beauty is re-established. And so on this day, beauty IS re-established, the tomb is empty, we are who God says we are, the dusty corners have been swept clean and God DOES get the last word. May we go forth finding grace in the wilderness, able to dance the dance of merrymakers, knowing that fear and joy often mysteriously live together... and that love abounds.  Happy Easter. Amen 

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