Heavenquake

EASTER DAY, April 8, 2012 Ss. Peter & Paul, 10:00 a.m. High Mass

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“O who shall roll away the stone,” The faithful women said; “The heavy stone that seals the tomb, And shuts from us our dead?”
But looking up, at dawn, they saw The great stone rolled away, And from the empty tomb a light More dazzling than the day.
Look up, O doubting soul, look up! Eyes fixed upon the earth Can never see the life that finds In death its glorious birth.
Look up! and ever looking up, Thine eyes shall clearly see The tombs of earth filled with the light Of immortality.
(Marion Franklin Ham, No. 84 in Hymnal 1940) +++++

The time is after the Sabbath has ended. A Jewish day begins at sundown, a more theological time, rather than chronological. But this time appears not as we would usually reckon it—it begins with the dawning of a new day, a new week that signifies the beginning of a new day in human history.

Women come to a tomb to be morticians, really, to anoint the dead and mutilated body of their friend and relative, to do that lovingly and carefully. Now they see an obstacle they thought would prevent their doing this task. But we’re told in Mark’s stark gospel of the resurrection that these women “look up.” That is what Jesus did in taking bread in the feeding of a multitude. [Mk. 6:41] That is what he did again in preparation for healing the deaf man. [Mk. 7:34]
So, we are assembled here this Easter morning, long after dawn, and one thing we might do together now is heed the invitation to consider rolling a stone away. Some of us have travelled to this moment from a procession of palms a week ago, and have been with Jesus, as much as we could be, through depths of betrayal and suffering—now we have come to the astonishing joy of an Easter moment. Some others of us may have come directly from the parade to the party. Some of us are seekers, wanderers, or have been dragged here to this rare moment, without expectation that we could be made any different by this journey. The stone at Jesus’ borrowed tomb: tracing that stone and its meaning is one way to bring all of us in the same point of understanding.

The women at the tomb are concerned about who will shift what is impossible for them to manage. The stone is an obstacle to their hope. They are focused on what has happened—it is a shared past of hope and love and loss. They are coming to pay respect to what they remember and the stone is the barrier in this act of care that symbolizes their grief and loss. They hope to pay homage through their care of what is dead.

The authorities see the immovable stone as a seal on their power, insuring their position. They have handled a dangerous situation and the stone cements their mark for the present moment. The collusion of Roman and religious authorities supports a lie that remains in place: Pax Romana; social political, economic privileges for a ruling elite. Jesus was a threat to their cozy arrangements. Their power is an uneasy lodging in the present. Empire always believes itself permanent while fearing every questioning or alternative reality to their story. The stone is their statement that all challengers to their rule face being squashed like a fly, swatted down.

What of Jesus? What is the stone for Jesus who is at the center of the story? Those who have seen the Palm Sunday procession see Jesus where God and humanity are met in perfect harmony. Jesus on a donkey, symbol of a new reign and alternate reality.
The week unravels and he dies utterly alone, betrayed and abandoned. “Disowned by humanity and deserted by divinity.” Sam Wells, a theologian, says that this is what the stone meant for Jesus. But the stone is also a symbol of God’s good creation. The stone for Jesus speaks of a future revealing. A symbol of contradiction—of separation, a symbol of what has been from the beginning of time, something that can show a greater force than gravity in the story of resurrection. Jesus’ stone will come to mean that nothing can separate us form the love of God. It is an opening future for us.

What about your stone? What do you see in the stone? A remembered experience, a present, fearful reality, a future beyond our strength or imagining? Are you paralyzed in aching loss, in fear, crushed under the weight of cynicism, suffering, sadness? What is standing, heavy, unshakeable, immovable for you? What is between you and life, between you and love, between you and healing, between you and God? Who will roll this stone away? Are we full of compromises, lies which promise secure control? Can we have the courage, faith, imagination to see it can really be different? “It is the will of God that we should love,” says J. Philip Newell.

There just may be a heavenquake, more than an earthquake at Easter. Habitual grief, false control, rolled away with a whisper of wonder. Our past and present have rolled with that stone, and our future is open in a way we could not imagine.
It is amazing and perhaps more than a little terrifying.

Like this quiet servant of us all,
Easter divides time
Easter hallows space
Easter brings life and light.
Blessed Easter to all God’s creation ...
May you fare well!
(William B. Spofford)

Most of the ideas herein are from Sam Wells, in Journal for Preachers, courtesy of my colleague Linda Stewart- Kalen, Minister of Colonial Heights Presbyterian Church, Portland, and a stalwart member of my weekly lectionary study group. The Newell quotation came from Eileen Parfrey, another member of the group. The opening poem is, as noted, from Hymnal 1940 by an author who was a Unitarian minister. And the concluding poem is by Bishop Bill Spofford, honored and venerable colleague, friend and teacher, from his book on his pilgrimage to Jerusalem and experiencing Easter Day there. By +Phil Ayers