“Early Easter”
A sermon by Sid Burgess for Edgewood PC, Birmingham, AL
Easter Sunday, March 23, 2008
Text: John 20:1-18
Easter has come early this year, and for Edgewood Church, it has come not a week, not a day, not a minute too soon. As a congregation we are reeling from three deaths. First, 24-year old Nathan Dodd, child of the church, baptized at this font, confirmed on these chancel steps, died suddenly 10 days ago. On Tuesday, elder Irma Kennedy died one day after her 81st birthday. Irma was a charter member of the Fearsome Foursome, consisting of Irma, Nell Barron, Amy Duckworth, and Carolyn Hammill. These four women helped facilitate the revitalization of Edgewood Church that began in 1990. Then on Friday, that third death. A number of you were here when it happened: “when they nailed him to a tree.” When he cried out in agony, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” You were here when “he gave out a loud cry and breathed his last.”
All three deaths this week serve as grim reminders grief is an inescapable reality of human existence. “No more than Christ are we spared the darkness, (uncertainty), and threat of life in this world.” 1
Juanita Ryan writes for a group called the National Association
for Christian Recovery. Here is her take on grief:
I was a twenty-one year old nursing student when I first came
across the term "grief work." The phrase jumped out at me as I was
reading an article on family dynamics and mental health. I remember
responding strongly to the concept of grief as "work." The idea made
a lot of sense. The article was about families who had lost a family
member. The study focused on how these families responded to grief
and the impact this had on their health as a family unit and as
individuals. In brief: those who did the “work of grief” experienced
growth. They grew closer to each other and gained a sense of
resilient hopefulness about life. Those who did not do the work of
grief grew more distant from each other and more isolated from the
outside world, and they became more helpless and hopeless in their
outlook on life. 2
Of course, death is not our only source of grief. Life is full of losses. Lost innocence and lost love, lost jobs and opportunities, lost friends, financial reversals. As we grow older, the loss of health and strength. I could go on but I suspect you have your own list of painful losses. Those with healthy experience in the fraternity of suffering say we must begin our grief work by facing the painful realities. My source says “facing pain” head on is the first task of grief work. 3
No one does that with more courage than Mary Magdalene. “Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb . . . .” As John tells the story, Mary comes alone. At the arrest of Jesus, the male disciples have fled, or gone into hiding--perhaps even denial. Only the women can face the horror of the execution. And only Mary comes to the tomb--willing to confront the most painful reality in life.
Unfortunately, most of us seem to have the disciples as our role models. When confronted by the great gulf between our ideal, our dreams, on the one hand, and the messy realities of life, on the other, we duck; we pretend; we delude ourselves; we often run away and hide. Run and hide from our problems, large and small. We pretend no one notices what is clearly obvious to anyone with eyes to see. Why, we can even delude ourselves into thinking we, ourselves, will never die!
Truth be told all of this avoidance is hard, stressful work. Coming clean, acknowledging the obvious, seeking help-- The difference is like holding your breath, and breathing deeply, freely. Look at Sister Mary. When she discovers the tomb empty, she runs for help and tells the others. When she is abandoned right there in the cemetery by Simon Peter and the mysterious, “other disciple,” she tells anyone who will listen: “They have taken away my Lord.” No holding back for this women. No pretending. She has completed the first task in the work of grief. Mary has faced reality and sought help. And her reward? She hears a beloved voice calling her name, “Mary.”
A second task of grief work is letting go, the opposite of which is holding on. Holding onto the past--the way it used to be and never will be again. Holding on to blame and resentments. Holding on to shame and self-judgment. Holding onto idealized images of ourselves and others. Holding on, evening enabling, a loved one caught up in addiction. Holding on to a loved one who has died, or left us. 4
By contrast, the Risen Jesus tells Mary, “Do not hold onto me.” Can’t blame Mary for trying. The quite natural inclination would be to not let Jesus out of her site. Not for one single minute. But Jesus says, “Do not hold onto me.” Mary, you’ve got work to do. “Go and tell my brothers . . . .” Go and proclaim the Good News of Gospel. “Christ is risen, Christ is risen indeed.”
For us, letting go means trusting those we love to the tender mercies of God. Letting go means giving up the myth of self-sufficiency-- the toddler’s cry, “I can do it myself.” Letting go means surrendering the myth of self-righteousness-- it’s all someone else’s fault. Letting go means trusting others to show God’s grace when we openly acknowledge our disappointments and failures. After all, “Our confidence and hope for ourselves and (for those whom we love). . . .” “Our confidence and hope do not rest in the powers and achievement of this world, but in the coming and hidden presence of God’s kingdom.” 5
Finally, we come to the third task of grief work—the surprising
task of opening our hearts to receive. Juanita Ryan writes:
There, in the midst of grief work, I found the last thing I ever
expected--joy. The joy of being loved and knowing it deep down. The
joy of loving others with tenderness and respect. The joy of
receiving and giving. The joy of living with an open heart. 6
The resurrection of Jesus makes this possible for us all. Notice his words to Mary: “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” This is an astonishing announcement. Here is what it all means for us. Through Jesus, the believing community--that’s us, the church . . . Through Jesus the believing community now knows God as Jesus knows God. Jesus has opened up the possibility of new and full relationship with God. The intimacy of Jesus’ relationship with God--God the Son who is so close to the Father’s heart, says John (1.18) . . . . The intimacy of God the Father and Jesus the Son-- heart to heart--is an embrace that is now open to us. The love that Father and Son have for each other now reaches out to include us. 7
Imagine, the joy of living with an open heart. I saw just that joy--the joy of living with an open heart--on the face of Momma Nell, Monday during grandson Nathan’s funeral. As the choir sang-- the choir singing with glorious passion and intensity-- I looked down and saw Momma Nell smiling a beautiful smile. She was obviously, openly receiving the love being poured out to her by the choir, the assembled congregation, the whole community. It was the joy of being loved, and knowing it. It was the joy of loving others. The joy of giving and receiving. The joy of living with an open heart.
Yes, Easter has come early this year, and for Edgewood Church, it has come not a week, not a day, not a minute too soon! Easter has come, and with it the proclamation of the Church through the ages--a proclamation true enough, powerful enough to triumph over all of life’s adversities: “Christ is risen, Christ is risen indeed.”
To the God of all grace,
who calls you to share God's eternal glory
in union with Christ,
be the power forever! 1 Peter 5:10,11
Amen.
1 “Declaration of Faith,” PSUSA, 1977, 1991, X.5.
2 Ryan, Juanita, “Grief’s Sacred Work,”
http://www.nacronline.com/dox/library/grief_jryan.shtml
3 Ibid.
4 Ibid.
5 “Declaration of Faith”
6 Ryan.
7 O’Day, Gail, “The Gospel of John,” THE NEW INTERPRETER’S BIBLE,
vol. IX, pp. 844-45