Serious Business

The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson

Manassas Presbyterian Church

Manassas, Virginia

April 20, 2014

Easter Sunday

Serious Business

Mark 16:1-8

Our feet hit the ground on Easter morning

as we get out bed

and somehow we feel lighter.

We’re fully awake,

with none of the weekday grogginess,

the cobwebs and fog that fill our heads,

the “I need two-cups of coffee to get me started” feeling.

No, it is Easter and there is energy, life;

there is joy in the very air we breathe.

It helps when it is sunny and lovely,

but the weather doesn’t really matter.

Even if it’s rainy,

it’s Easter!

It is a day to dress up,

to look our best.

Men who avoid neckties at all costs

happily knot a bright print

around their necks;        

women don colorful scarves and bonnets;

young boys comb their hair,

and keep their shirts tucked in –

at least for little while;

little girls feel ever so grown up in dresses

printed with the vibrant colors of spring.

Children are up as early on Easter morning

as they are on Christmas.

There are Easter baskets and eggs to find,

and of course, chocolate to eat.

Somewhere there must be a proverb

that speaks to the importance,

even the wisdom,

of chocolate before breakfast.

Bunnies and eggs,

pastels and flowers,

the scent of lilies –

they all add to the sheer joy of Easter.

The heaviness and somberness of Lent is gone.

Purple has given way to white.

We have alleluia wands to wave,

alleluia hymns to sing,

alleluias to shout out:

it is Easter,

and our Lord is risen!

It doesn’t matter how many times

we’ve heard the story,

we are as eager to hear it again this year

as we were last year:

the story of the empty tomb,

the story of Mary Magdalene setting out

in the darkness before dawn

on that first Easter Sunday morning.

Setting out to go to the tomb

to finish what had been left undone

Friday evening when the sun had set

and the Sabbath had begun:

The work of preparing Jesus’ body properly

for burial, anointing his body

with spices and ointments,

as was the custom back then.

We can almost hear Mary’s footsteps on the road

in the quiet darkness of dawn,

her steps light, quick, purposeful

as she approached the tomb,

the tomb where Joseph of Arimathea had so gently

laid Jesus’ battered, lifeless body on Friday

after taking him down tenderly from the cross.

They’d laid Jesus body in the tomb,

and wrapped him quickly in linens

even as the sun began to sink.

They knew they would not have time;

they knew they would have to return on

Sunday morning to finish their work.

And so, as the day gave way to evening,

they rolled a large stone in front of the tomb,

leaving it so they could go observe the Sabbath.

Matthew tells us that Pilate even sent

soldiers to guard the tomb.

But then, on that first Easter morning,

when Mary returned,

the stone was rolled away,

the tomb open,

the tomb empty;

in Mathew’s recounting the soldiers had

fainted dead away on the ground.

Jesus was gone – gone.

Nothing but the linen wrappings remained.

The four gospels differ in the details,

but they all agree on this:

the tomb was empty;                        

Jesus was not there.

As we heard in our lesson,

Mark tells us that Mary Magdalene

came to the tomb with another Mary,

and together they found a

“young man, dressed in a white robe,”

sitting inside the tomb,

who 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.”

(Mark 16:6)

The words must have resounded against the rock

inside the small chamber:

“He has been raised.”

“Raised….

raised.”

The words unsettled the two Marys;

Mark tells us that they fled from the tomb,

seized with terror and amazement,

clearly not understanding,

clearly not remembering the times,

the three different times,

Jesus had spoken of his death,

spoken of his rising.

Even as recently as right before he and his disciples

had come into Jerusalem for the Passover

Jesus had said,

“See we are going up to Jerusalem

and the Son of Man will be handed over

to the chief priests and the scribes,

and they will condemn him to death;

then they will hand him over to the Gentiles;

they will …kill him;

and after three days he will rise again.”

(Mark 10:33)

In their grief, their fear,

their exhaustion,

in their sheer bewilderment,

it should not surprise us at all that the two Marys,

or for that matter any of Jesus’ followers,

didn’t remember Jesus’ words,

“after three days he will rise again.”

Who among us, had we been there,

would have understood what the young man,

God’s messenger,

meant when he said,

“He has been raised.”

We understand now.

Certainly not perfectly;

we see only through the glass dimly.

But we understand through faith,

so we can shout out with joy:

He is risen!

Christ is risen!

Christ is risen indeed!

The tomb could not hold our Lord,

death could not hold him.

The shackles of death have been broken.

The power of death has been broken!

As the poet John Donne wrote,

“death, thou has died.”

Jesus lives!

Alleluia indeed!

But of course there is more to Easter

than all our singing,

all our alleluias,

all our candy and bright clothing,

all our family get-togethers.

From all this revelry and celebration,

comes serious business.

Jesus is risen, yes,

but for more than joyful worship

on a beautiful spring morning.

God raised Jesus to grace us with new life;

God raised Jesus to call us to new life;

to call us from the old ways, the old life,

to new ways, new life as we follow him,

as we follow our Risen Lord,

follow the living Christ.

God raised Jesus to call us to the serious business

of discipleship,

the serious business of the work we are called to do

in the name of Jesus Christ

the work we are called to do

long after we’ve put away

the Easter baskets and decorations.

God raised Jesus to call us to the serious business

of kingdom building,

here, now.  

Yes, we do our part – we bring food for Serve,

we provide money for other missions

we try to reach out,

we try to be good and kind.

But this isn’t a part-time calling,

this discipleship,

something to fit in as time permits.

This is serious business,

full-time business.

Indeed, the great 18^th century composer of hymns,

Isaac Watts put it perfectly when he wrote:

“Love so amazing, so divine,”

given us in the resurrection of Jesus,

“demands my soul, my life, my all.”

But we followers of Christ

so often seem to be like Mary in the garden

in John’s gospel;

the two disciples on the road to Emmaus;

even Peter the rock,

as he rowed back from a night of fishing

on the Sea of Galilee:

They all failed to see the Risen Lord.

Distracted, they failed to see the living Christ,

who was there, with them,

right in front of their very eyes.

        

He is all around us.

But do we see him,

truly see him?

Do we see his image everywhere:

in the faces of loved ones and friends,

and also in the faces of strangers,

in the faces of the different.

“All we like sheep have gone astray;

we have all turned to our own way.”

said the prophet Isaiah.

(Isaiah 53:6)

We all turn to our own way,

and go astray because,

even as we are bathed in the grace of God,

we hold back from responding fully –

from giving our souls,

our lives, our all,

to the serious business of discipleship.

Look at our history -

look at how the history of Christianity,

even contemporary Christianity,

has so often been,

and still is so often,

a force for divisiveness rather than reconciliation,

for judgment rather than acceptance,

even for war, rather than peace.                                  

Retired Anglican Archbishop Desmond Tutu,

a man whose life has been devoted to

the serious business of discipleship,

has written:

“Religion, which should foster

sisterhood and brotherhood,

which should encourage tolerance, respect,

compassion, peace,

reconciliation, caring, and sharing,

has far too frequently done the opposite.

Religion has fueled alienation and conflict

and has exacerbated intolerance and

injustice and oppression.”

(God is not a Christian, 50)

As Jesus hung dying on the cross,

the Roman soldiers cast lots to see

who would get his tunic.

John’s gospel tells us “the tunic was seamless,

woven in one piece from the top.”

(John 19:23)

The serious business of following,

the serious business of discipleship

calls us to build a seamless world,

woven in love –

not a world where everyone thinks and acts alike,

but where the common bonds are love

acceptance, tolerance, and

compassion.

The serious business of discipleship

calls us to build a world rich in the diversity God created

that is bonded and woven in love.

For as our Lord has taught us,

it is by our love for one another

that we are known as his disciples.

This is a joyful day,

for our Lord is risen

and we should celebrate;

we should shout out our alleluias!

But we should remember the reason for our celebration:

that we are called to new life,

that we are called to follow our Risen Lord

in the serious business of discipleship,

the serious business of building the kingdom,

God’s kingdom.

It is a calling we should respond to

seriously and purposefully,

but also joyfully,

shouting out not just today,

but every day:      

Christ is risen!

Christ is risen!

Christ is risen, indeed!

Alleluia!!    

AMEN