Easter
April 16, 1995
We are here this evening to celebrate the first mass of Easter. This is an ancient celebration where the whole church came to welcome those new members of the body who had been preparing themselves during the period of Lent. This service usually contained baptisms of whole families, instructions about the Christian life, and, ending, with the celebration of the risen Christ.
Tonight I would start our thinking by asking you a question that I believe might have been asked in the early church. What does all this mean for you? You who are a part of this resurrection community, does it make a difference?
The trick in life is to ask the right questions. If we simply concentrate on the factual questions, did it happen? What does it look like? Where do we begin? We will miss the miracle that is about to happen. Those are facts, not truths. If we just concentrate on the facts, Easter will have come and gone, and we simply will be left with an entry doctrine. Something you’re supposed to believe as a Christian, something you can argue about eloquently with your Christian friends, but has little to do with real life, and certainly has nothing to do with people who are joining our community.
So let’s ask the right question. What does the resurrection mean and how does it impact any of our lives? These are truths, not facts.
A French priest wrote a few years ago that the West is the third world of the spirit, impoverished, underdeveloped, unawakened, and unaware of the miracle of our being alive. The miracle that you and I are. Have you ever thought about that? The miracle that each of us here is a living, breathing entity, capable of loving and touching other human beings. What a miracle! That’s a deep truth, deeper than any scientific facts about us.
Walt Whitman wrote, I know nothing else but miracles. I’ll give you a miracle. Look around. Look at yourselves. You’re alive. And all of this because of the dazzling generosity of God.
Let me tell you a story. A priest friend of ours was running a cell group, very much like the ones we have here. Our friend imposed 1 that rule on the group. Any person was allowed to share any part of their life, but in order to speak, you first had to tell something good that was going on in your life, and then you could tell of all the bad things that were happening. Everyone seemed to have plenty of bad news, so this good news standard made for a more balanced discussion. One night a 20-year-old college student who had recently joined the group came in late and looked very strung out. He was crying softly to herself, and everyone turned to her and said tell us about it, Jane. Suddenly she cried out, ohh God, I was raped this afternoon. There was a shock silence. And then everybody started to talk at once, and our friend interrupted and said, wait, Jane, before we go on, remember our rule. Tell us some good news. Jane thought for a long time, and the silence seemed unbearable. Finally, Jane said, Well I’m alive.
That’s the miracle that is right under our noses. That’s what resurrection is all about: Jesus is alive, and so are we
I know nothing but miracles. My God, I’m alive. I breathe through the love and mercy of God, we are here. Magnificent, isn’t it? It must be the good news that we are alive.
And to those of you who are about to join this community, we welcome to the community that is alive. Now being alive means moving, means journeying, means growing. Being dead means ceasing to move, ceasing to grow, ceasing to change. To our welcome to this special community is to be aware of being alive. And aware of the miracle that started on the first Easter and continues with our corporate life. Jesus is alive, and so are we. Alleluia