I have a rather personal confession to make to
you this morning. I cannot roller-skate, never mind roller blade! I have never
been able to! During my high school years, our parish Young People's Fellowship
went rollerskating a few times each year, and there I was, on the sidelines, a
spectator. How I wanted to participate! I tried a few times and ended up a
humiliated, twisted heap, avoided by elementary school children gracefully
sailing by. When I get to the next life, high on my agenda (in addition to
organ and voice lessons) will be learning how to rollerskate!
I know what kept me from participating. Before I
took one step, I wanted a detailed analysis, an elaborate explanation, a total
understanding of rollerskating. I also wanted to know what kind of people
rollerskated regularly: were they all good sports? Would I fit in? Were
rollerskating rinks located in safe neighborhoods? Not knowing these answers, I
considered private lessons, scheduled when others wouldn't be around. Believe
it or not, until recent 5 years, I made some inquiries about private lessons,
but somehow I've never gotten around to it. Now, I am so programmed with years
of reluctance, it's too late, at least for THIS life. Anyway, how does one hold
a cane when skating?!
Had I learned those many years ago just enough
to put on the skates and then to skate (with the support of friends), had I not
wanted to know all about it in advance, I would have been able to participate
with confidence.
How deadening it is when we insist on "knowing
all about it" before taking part in something! Imagine if scientists waited to
understand electricity fully before putting it to use; what would our lives be
like without electricity? A world-famous mathematician has written
Mathematics: The Loss of Certainty, which discusses the many
uncertainties in mathematics; would we be better off if we postponed all
calculations until these uncertainties can be cleared up? Should musicians stop
writing and performing until sound waves are much better explained? Before
eating a meal, should we have a thorough analysis of its ingredients? Before
associating with anyone, or loving someone, should we completely understand
them? Until all of our questions are answered in neat categories about anyone
or anything, would it be best to remain a spectator?
If you and I insist on a detailed analysis, an
elaborate explanation, and a neatly packaged, total understanding of the
Resurrection Faith, we will remain spectators; the meanings of the Gospel will
pass us by. We'll miss what we celebrate here every Sunday: that the Creator of
the Universe breaks through the worst possible events in our lives and gives to
each person (who will accept it) power and vision for new beginnings!
What specifically occurred for Jesus? I'm not
sure. When I was in my first year of seminary, I thought I had to know; I
wanted a detailed analysis, an elaborate explanation, a total, neatly packaged
understanding of what really took place. I still recall vividly a moment when I
was studying alone in my room; I thought: what if solid evidence was discovered
that the Resurrection was only intended as a symbolic story? I felt a sudden
rush of paralyzing despair. Moments later the realization settled in: Easter is
true for me because I trust the testimonies of the first witnesses of the
Resurrected Christ, including Thomas. Additionally, God does offer us power and
vision to make new beginnings. Surely the power that raises us from hopeless
defeats and chronic sadness is not somewhere within us; who by his own isolated
efforts or with just human assistance is truly revitalized and raised to new
possibilities?
So many people remain in dark tombs! I ran
across pamphlets illustrating the defeat and doomsday grief felt by some: "Are
We Nearing Armageddon?" and "Is Planet Earth Near The Brink?" Some others see
the Devil everywhere! A few years ago the New York Times reported the charges
by some religious people that the moon and stars design on Procter and Gamble's
products are the mark of the Devil! Others have become fearfully silly about
the onset of the year 2000, which is not even the new millennium (2001 is)! We
are told in another essay: "Some Sad People, It Seems, Are Gloomy As Matter of
Habit."
Marketable and sometimes useful self-help advice
abounds: "Pushing Past Despair to the Future" and "The Passage From Pain to
peace of Mind." And, a call for relief from it all: "Needed: A National
Silliness Day!" But, instead, why not "Happy Easter!"
The late Roman Catholic Archbishop of Hartford,
who had undergone cancer surgery resulting in a permanent colostomy, wrote
these very personal words in one of his last Easter messages: "I am now a
member of an association of people who have been wounded by cancer. That
association has as its symbol the phoenix bird. The reference is to Egyptian
mythology, which told of this bird flying off to Phoenicia, burning itself up
with fire, and then being reborn in its own ashes. In the same way any person
with an ostomy is considered, phoenix-like, to have risen from the ashes of
disease and to have been given a new lease on life. That is true for anyone who
has survived a struggle with cancer. Suddenly life becomes more precious for
having been and for being so precarious. Now each hour is lived more fully.
Each friend, each person seems much more real, comes so incredibly alive. Now
the sky seems more blue, the sunshine more beautiful, the colors more vivid.
And even the dull and ordinary things are causes for gratitude to God for their
wonder and beauty. The Phoenix bird is one of the earliest symbols for the
Resurrection of Christ."
Archbishop John Whealon could have lived in a
gloomy tomb of self-pity, hopeless defeat, and chronic sadness, but his
resurrection faith, God's power, and his Easter community opened his eyes to
new visions of life; with scars remaining and but a comparatively short time to
live, he was raised to new beginnings.
Easter's meanings, and all that it offers, is
like a quality shoe. You don't know everything about it; you learn just enough
to put in on and wear it; worn well, it supports you in mud and sunshine;
polished often, it remains bright; accompanied by another, it gets you where
you're going, even to places where you've never been before!
The power and vision of Easter are here for you
and me, as it was for Mary Magdalene, Peter, Thomas and the others. If we were
to remain reluctant spectators awaiting answers to all of our questions,
wondering whether we'll fit in, stepping in occasionally and then retreating,
we would be reduced to settling for something like an occasional national
silliness day for life's meaning. We would have to settle for desperately
sought giggles, rather than the joys of ongoing resurrections. We would be
truly alive and up one day and entombed and down the next. Or, we might remain
lifeless, locked away in a steady, soured passivity. The longer we would wait
to participate in the nurturing Easter community, the less likely we would ever
accept God's power and ever new visions for our lives.
In today's Gospel Thomas was not touched by a
folk tale, metaphor, or some kind of inner enlightenment. He was moved by the
visible, exalted presence of Christ. It is within the ongoing Resurrection
community, the Church, that we hear about and meet the life-giving Christ,
especially in our Eucharistic celebrations. Within this fellowship the
Resurrection becomes our own account of the Risen Lord in our lives. Back at
daily patterns, duties and relationships, as Christians we choose the Easter
perspective of hopefulness, confidence, and triumph rather than a defeatist
credo of immovable stones, insecurity, gloom, and failure. Indeed, Easter
authenticates and shapes who we are most fundamentally: that together you and I
are children of God never separated from God's victorious love and healing
grace. For every one of us Easter confirms the ultimate trustworthiness of the
one true and personal God disclosed in His Christ.
I cannot rollerskate; I waited too late. But I
understand the Gospel just enough to participate confidently with you today
(and every time we gather) in the Easter meaning of life. Together, may we,
though wounded and scarred, continue with God's power to grow in heart and mind
as raised disciples of the Risen Christ! Amen! Bethesda Sunday
Sermon #31