For far too long the church has expected worship to be the starting point for faith.
But worship is not a starting place – not for people new to the faith and even not for those who continue in a life of faith. In fact, I contend worship has only ever been a starting place for very few people, but is instead (even in the biblical narrative) a mid-point on our journey.
I rarely do this, posting sermons, but I thought I would share what I preached this morning. The text is Mark 16:1-8
I deny the resurrection of Christ.
In a blog post entitled “My Confession: I deny the Resurrection,” author Peter Rollins comments on accusations that he denies the resurrection.
Here’s what he says:
Without equivocation or hesitation I fully and completely admit that I deny the resurrection of Christ. This is something that anyone who knows me could tell you, and I am not afraid to say it publicly, no matter what some people may think…
I deny the resurrection of Christ every time I do not serve at the feet of the oppressed, each day that I turn my back on the poor; I deny the resurrection of Christ when I close my ears to the cries of the downtrodden and lend my support to an unjust and corrupt system.
However there are moments when I affirm that resurrection, few and far between as they are. I affirm it when I stand up for those who are forced to live on their knees, when I speak for those who have had their tongues torn out, when I cry for those who have no more tears left to shed.
I don’t know Pete personally, I’ve only read his books and heard him speak once – but I suspect this is an honest admission on his part.
But it resonates deep within me, convicting me in a way that compels me to confess the same to you this Easter Sunday morning – I deny the resurrection of Christ.
I deny the resurrection of Christ not only every time I do not serve at the feet of the oppressed, but also when I consume more than what I need, more than what is rightfully mine, leaving less for those who need it.
I deny the resurrection of Christ every time I choose to watch an extra half hour of TV instead of spending that time listening to and talking with God.
Or when I do not care for God’s creation, throwing out that plastic bottle rather than recycling it or when I take a long, hot shower in the morning.
I deny the resurrection of Christ every time I do not tell another person the ways in which my life has been transformed by the radical, rule-breaking, self-sacrificing, life-giving love Jesus has shown me.
I deny the resurrection of Christ every time I let fear and anxiety get the best of me – believing what the world would want me to believe.
The silence of my words and actions in the face of violence and injustice very loudly proclaims to the world that I do not trust that empty tomb, the one we gather here today to remember and celebrate.
And every time I deny the resurrection, I deny the sacrifice and love shown by Jesus on Good Friday. I deny his very willingness to go to the cross – able to save himself and yet choosing not to.
And every time I deny the resurrection of Christ and the cross – I deny Christ himself.
Yes, I too confess that I deny the resurrection of Christ – all too often.
But, I suppose, I am not the first to deny the resurrection. The first were the women who fled from the empty tomb early that first Easter.
They let their fear get the best of them, their terror and amazement.
They fled from the tomb – having been commanded by the young man there to tell the disciples and Peter that Jesus was going ahead of them to Galilee, to tell them of what they had seen.
But instead they flee and say nothing to anyone because they were afraid.
In this moment of fear and terror, these women denied the resurrection of Christ – denied the command to tell the world of the resurrection.
And in doing so, denied the faithfulness and love Jesus showed them on the cross.
In that moment, they denied Christ.
And in their denial, they have deprived the world of what they have seen, what they have experienced; of that love and sacrifice, that empty tomb.
Denied the world of the ways in which he changed their lives, the kindness and love he showed them.
Denied the world of the ways he gave them worth and value, especially when that very world dictated that they were property rather than people.
Each denial of the resurrection of Christ, whether that of the women fleeing the empty tomb or each of us, deprives the world of the knowledge, of the change it so desperately needs.
It deprives the world of its Lord and Ruler – of a kingdom where justice reigns.
It deprives the world of truth, peace, freedom, and love.
It deprives the world of a God formerly incarnated in one man, but now incarnated in a whole community of people.
Even as we gather here today, on this beautiful Easter Sunday morning, having heard the accounts of Jesus’ death again this past week and now celebrating the empty tomb and that he has been risen from the dead, we know there are countless times we deny the resurrection of Christ – when we deny this empty tomb – and the power it holds for us and the world.
But while we may deny the resurrection, God never does.
God remains faithful, knowing exactly what power this empty tomb holds.
The power to conquer the infection of sin whose symptoms we try to manage every day – the power to conquer death.
God does not deny the resurrection – instead God boldly proclaims it to the world, to us – going ahead of us to meet us.
“As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. 6 But he said to them, ‘Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. 7 But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.’ (Mark 16:5-7)
Jesus does not hide the fact that he has been resurrected. No, he lives and breathes yet again – going ahead of his disciples to Galilee to meet them – to walk with them, to be there.
To remind them of the resurrection – to prove to them that he has indeed been killed and then raised from the dead.
He shows up to prove to them the resurrection is real – no matter what the world tells them.
Jesus goes ahead to remind them all of the resurrection – to affirm it.
He meets them in Galilee, the every day of their lives, just as he says – so that they may see the resurrection as having real ramifications in their lives.
It isn’t just something that happened once – never to be forgotten or denied.
But something that has very real effects for every part of their daily lives.
Jesus goes ahead to remind them of the resurrection even though they have failed him over and over, not trusting him – even though they have denied him.
So it is with us – Jesus goes ahead of us, meets us in the everyday of life, reminding us of the resurrection, affirming it for us.
Jesus affirms the resurrection for us in the best of things, the joys of life – celebrations of new life, triumphs, jobs well done, and laughter with friends.
The resurrection is affirmed when the hungry are fed and the naked are clothed. When we give those who live their lives on the margins a place at the table and their voices are heard. The resurrection is affirmed in sitting with those who have suddenly lost a loved one or lost a job and are now looking for a place to turn, for a kind ear to listen.
Jesus meets us in our daily lives, affirming the resurrection even in the most mundane, normal things – in dirty diapers and picking up toys, in confused meeting times and places, grocery shopping, cleaning up the house, even in reconciliation after a fight with those closest to us.
But he also goes ahead of us, proclaiming the resurrection during those awful times – in crisis, thoughts of suicide, the loss of a place to live, the inability to feed our families, a shooting or drug related violence.
He is there reminding us that these things no longer have any power – because of the empty tomb.
He has gone ahead into death, conquering it and giving us new life.
He has already been to all of these places – there is no place we could ever go where Jesus hasn’t already been before.
He has already been to those times and places where we deny the resurrection – and affirms it for us, reminding us of the power of an empty tomb.
Even though we may deny the resurrection of Christ – Christ does not and he never denies us.
Peter Rollins. My Confession: I Deny the Resurrection. January 31, 2009 (http://peterrollins.net/blog/?p=136)
Photo courtesy of Keith Bacongco
I was visiting somebody today and we began to talk about church. On that subject he said, “I don’t need a place to go on Sunday, I need a place to work.”
My immediate thought was, “Yes! That is exactly what we should all be saying.” It’s not that this guy wouldn’t attend worship on a Sunday morning, in fact I know he would and that is part of what he’s looking for, but that he’s got a different idea of what that looks like for him. Since our conversation this afternoon I’ve been doing some thinking about this statement and what the church is to be.
First, I do agree with him. As far as a place to be – there are lots of places to be on a Sunday morning and if my faith wasn’t important to me, then I would probably “be” in my bed on a Sunday morning. On the other hand, my dog would probably make me get up – at which point I would be sitting on the couch, drinking coffee and reading the paper. So why would any of us show up at worship on a Sunday morning if it were only a place to be?
So then that brings us back to the work aspect of the comment. Our faith has transformed us and as Jesus came to serve, not to be served, we are called to do the same. So church – the people, not the building – is to be people who work. People who tell the story, who spread the Gospel. People are in service to the world, being God’s hands and feet. This happens even in worship – Liturgy, that order of service we Lutherans and other Liturgical churches follow in worship, means ‘work of the people.’ Worship is work! So why do we sometimes act like church is a place to show up rather than a place to work and be involved?
But then I began to think a bit – what if I’m the one who needs to be served? What if I’m not in a position to serve yet – not in a place to work? Am I part of the church too? And if I am, what does that mean? And if I’m not, then is that really such a bad thing?
Thoughts?
Last year I was invited via Facebook to participate in Buy Nothing Day. Occuring every year on Black Friday, Buy Nothing Day is an effort to protest the rampant consumerism in our country as people make a pledge to (obviously) buy nothing that day. So while people are lining up at stores to get the “best” deals, others are saying no to that. Last year, I immediately said yes and didn’t buy anything on Black Friday last year.
This year I got the same invitation and I hesitated a bit.
You see, I’ve begun to think more about our economy, how it runs, and what we’re putting our money into. On one hand, I do think that we’ve become massive consumers who buy and buy to make ourselves feel full only to realize once we’ve got something that it doesn’t complete us and we “need” something else. So on that account, I wanted to participate in Buy Nothing Day. However, as our economy has continued to decline (as well as much of the rest of the world’s), I have watched as people stopped spending money they had previously which in turn meant businesses cut jobs which then in turn means people have less money to spend. Many are finding that the “safety” of the middle class is a myth (see a recent Washington Post article on this) and are visiting food banks and other charities for the first time. People are being laid off from their jobs and companies just aren’t hiring. I’ve begun to realize how much of our economy is built upon spending money.
Now, I say that and also begin to wonder a couple of things. First, perhaps we need to find other ways of employing people. Second, maybe we need this recession to help us revaluate how we spend our money and on what our economy is built. I’ve been revisiting Brian McLaren’s book, Everything Must Change, and one of the most important concepts he discusses is how we believe bigger to always be better and that our economy (and other things) are able to grow forever. This is simply not true. We have finite resources and no economy can grow infinitely nor be sustainable. I wonder if this recession is because we have exceeded the time when the inflated economy we had could maintain itself any longer and needed to collapse. I imagine it like a man holding up a wall – he cannot hold the wall forever, eventually his muscles can no longer support the weight of the wall and it will fall down. Perhaps this is where our economy is now… falling down after the muscles that have held it have lost the ability to do so.
So this brings me back to Buy Nothing Day – perhaps it shouldn’t be Buy Nothing Day but Buy Only What You Need Day. I need food – should I not purchase groceries? Should I not help to ensure that bagging clerk still has a job at the end of the day? I think we need to evaluate how we spend our money, not simply refuse to do so – at least right now in our current economy. We need to spend our money in ways that help support life, rather than take it away. But I think we still need to spend our money (on this I’m also thinking about the Parable of the Talents in Matthew 25).
Anyway, I’m not an economist and I’m sure there are many intricacies of which I am simply not aware… but this is just where my mind has been lately.
Thoughts? Questions? Agree? Disagree?
