Baptism of the Lord

Let us pray. As you once did for the women who came to the tomb, O God, surprise us too with the great good news of Easter. Through Jesus Christ, our Risen Lord. Amen.

It was not long ago that I received a surprising newsletter from the Presbyterian Church’s Board of Pensions. The headline on one of the inside pages is surely one to be added to that list of church publication “bloopers” that keeps on coming to everyone’s e-mail in-box. It read, “Optional Death Program Enhanced!”

Optional death program…. I didn’t know the perks for Presbyterian ministers were quite that good! And yet, on reflection, I suppose an “optional death program” is just what we are celebrating, in a way, on Easter Sunday. But, still, I was rather surprised that the program wasn’t datelined something a bit more celestial than “Louisville, Kentucky!”

As we reflect on our Scripture Lesson for today, we find that Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James were surprised too, but in a much more sobering situation. Distressed beyond belief at losing their dear friend Jesus – and through the horrible means of crucifixion at that – they had got up early on Sunday morning to go to the tomb where the body of Jesus had been laid.

They had gone there, so Luke tells us, bearing spices – much in the same way that you or I today might go to a grave bearing flowers. They expected, no doubt, to shed some tears, offer a prayer or two, maybe even to share a few “what ifs,” and be on their way within an hour or so. Nothing more, and no longer, to be sure; for there comes a time, even at the grave of one you love more than yourself, when there is simply nothing more to do, and when the call of life-that-continues draws you on.

But, again, what a surprise awaited them! As Matthew describes the scene for us, the earth suddenly began shaking as the two Marys approached the tomb: it was shaking because the great stone that covered the mouth of the tomb was moving away – pushed by an angel whose presence blazed like lightning. As they looked inside the suddenly-open tomb, but surprisingly saw nothing within it, the angel spoke and told them that Jesus had been raised from the dead.

Now that was a surprise – and not just to the two Marys! In face of it, the Roman sentries who were standing guard, says Matthew, “shook and became like dead men.”

And who could doubt that they did?! As you and I might shake and become like dead men too! For this was not just any surprise. But, regardless of how you or I might choose to interpret this event – and surely there are many interpretations being bandied about of what the Resurrection might mean – it was the greatest surprise in all the world, from that day on, through twenty eventful centuries, down to this Easter Day today! The greatest surprise in all the world!

But the surprise of the resurrection brought more than mere shaking and temporary paralysis. It also brought the surprise of a brand-new life – not only life in the hereafter, but life in the here-and-now, too. For those two women first at the tomb also were surprised by faith; surprised by joy; and surprised by new purpose in living, as well.

All of which may be true for you and me too, when the immense surprise of what happened on that first Easter Day becomes reality for us. Here’s what I mean….

First, to encounter the Resurrection of Christ is to be surprised by faith.

As we just supposed, a moment ago, the two Marys came to the tomb expecting to do little more than to spread aromatic spices, weep awhile, and leave. Certainly they had no thought of anything more. And something like a resurrection was beyond the pale even of their imaginations. As rational human beings, that was neither something they thought of nor believed might happen – so far was it beyond their perception of the possible.

But in a few seconds, in the twinkling of an eye, their “world of faith,” was turned upside down. For what they could not believe – indeed, what they could not even imagine – suddenly became reality.

First came the angel’s announcement of the Resurrection – which, perhaps, in itself would have had faith-altering consequences. I mean, what would it do for your faith, if an angel appeared to you?

But the angel’s announcement wasn’t all; for, within moments they came upon the Risen Lord himself. And now they couldn’t avoid the faith that might have utterly embarrassed them before. Their personal experience of their resurrected friend turned mere astonishment into being surprised by a new faith that suddenly took root in their minds, their hearts, their souls.[1]

If you won’t consider the story irreverent, as new faith took root, also, in the soul of a young man who went out on his first date in a car, all alone. As he was about to leave, his mother was filling him full of instructions on proper etiquette for this momentous occasion. You know: “Make sure you open the door for her; pull her chair out for her; and when you bring her back home, be sure you leave her with a gift of thanks like a flower or a box of chocolates.”

“Okay, okay, okay!” Johnny responded with some irritation. Nonetheless, he did immediately go down to the candy store, where he ordered a one-pound, a two-pound, and a three-pound box of chocolates.

“Well,” said the owner of the candy store in response, “that is certainly a strange order. What are you going to do with those three boxes?”

“Oh,” Johnny responded, “I’m going out on a date tonight. When I bring her back home, if I get a handshake, I’ll give her the one-pound box; if I get a peck on the cheek, then the two-pound box; and, if it’s, you know, a real kiss, I’ll give her the three-pound box.”

So Johnny got his three boxes of chocolate, and later that evening went to pick up his date. His date then introduced him to her parents. At which point, Johnny seemed startled, and immediately suggested that they all hold hands and have a scripture and prayer together before the two left on their date. That rather amazed the girlfriend and her parents; but Johnny went ahead anyway and shared the Scripture and the prayer.

When they got outside, the girl looked over to the boy and said, “Johnny, I’m surprised to find out that you are so religious!”

“So am I,” responded Johnny; but then I was surprised too to find out that your father owned a candy store!”[2]

Easter is all about a surprise – a surprise of faith. It’s a faith we often don’t know we even have the potential for, as with Johnny-on-the-date – and more seriously as with the two Marys at the tomb, who certainly never expected to believe in anything like a resurrection. But, confronted with the risen Lord, what else could they do? And they lived the rest of their lives with the surprise of a totally-unexpected faith at the center of who they were and what they did.

As it may happen for you and me as well. Heaven only knows where the risen Christ will appear to us – maybe in Word or Sacrament in this worship service this morning; maybe in life’s darkest and most disappointing moment; maybe in deep scholarly endeavor; maybe in a moment of high thanksgiving for unexpected blessing.

But the risen Christ will appear: you can count on that. He will appear in your life – just as he did so many years ago. And when he does, we always are surprised by the faith we suddenly find filling our lives.

But, if to encounter the Resurrection is to be surprised by faith, even more it is to be surprised by joy. For joy inevitably follows the experience of faith.

And yet, we may want to note that the immediate effect of the Resurrection, in the lives of the two Marys at the tomb, was not joy at all. Rather, it was abject fear: along with the guards, they too were frozen with fear.

And who wouldn’t be afraid in a situation like that? But fear soon began changing into joy, as the angel spoke. And it changed completely to joy when, as they were running away to tell their friends, they almost ran over the risen Lord. The risen Lord, who met them with the word that our English translation renders as “Greetings!” But it is a word in the Greek that means, literally, “Rejoice!”[3]

Rejoice indeed! For the presence of the risen Christ quickly reassured these women that the change they had experienced – the change of their world being turned forever upside down – was a good thing instead of a bad thing.

In the same way, when the risen Christ appears – be it in an individual life or in the life of a church – change will occur – surprising change.

As with the two caterpillars who were crawling across the grass. As a shadow passed over, they both looked up to see a beautiful butterfly fluttering overhead. One of them nudged the other and said, “You couldn’t get me up in one of those things for a million dollars!”[4]

When the risen Christ appears in our lives, it often utterly surprises us – as those caterpillars were about to be surprised themselves. It surprises us by changing the way we have known life to be.

But it’s not just change: without doubt it is change for the better – change for the joyous better, as we too find our hearts soaring on gossamer wings, no longer held back by the often-cruel gravity of earthly life.

The Resurrection surprises us with a joy that enables us to view with confidence even what we had thought to be life’s worst.

But being filled with new faith and new joy are not the end of the surprises. Rather, this we discover too: that, when God brings blessing, God also brings a surprising new purpose to our lives

Take the two Marys. As they began kissing Jesus’ feet and worshipping him with joy, Jesus lifted them up by the hand and gave them a task: “Go and tell...,” he commanded.[5] He gave them a new purpose in life – the purpose of sharing the joy they had individually experienced.

John Kavanaugh puts it this way: “If our faith,” he writes, “is something that really does not make a very big difference…, no wonder it seems boring to [many]. Anything we don’t care about can’t be very interesting. The things we do care about, however, we inevitably talk about. If faith is real, it seeks expression. It will communicate and profess. It will have the energy of passion.”[6]

Sometimes our communication or sharing is the classic witness of telling another person how to accept Christ. At other times, it is just the caring and loving way we choose to relate.

As with the man who stopped a woman outside a subway station one day. “Excuse me, Ma’am,” he said. “I don’t want to frighten you; but I do want to thank you.”

“No,” he replied, “you don’t. But I used to be a ticket seller. And whenever you came by the booth, you always gave me a cheerful smile and said ‘Good morning.’

I knew that smile must come from somewhere. Then one morning I saw a little New Testament in your hand. So I bought one, too, and read it. And now I am finding a reason to smile at people too.”[7]

The faith and joy of the Resurrection are never content to remain inside a solitary life; but they always surprise us and others by beaming forth to lives beyond.

Well, recalling the Board of Pensions “blooper” that I mentioned earlier, it’s not exactly an “optional death program” that we are celebrating here in church on Easter morning. But it’s not far from it. Maybe we ought to call it an “optional life program” instead.

Because that’s what Easter is all about – a surprising new life, a Resurrection life, to all who will receive it through the risen Christ –

So that, by any account, and however you might measure its effects, Easter is truly The World’s Greatest Surprise.

Let us pray. Surprise us once more, O Lord, with the astonishing reality of the Resurrection,

and what it can mean to our lives. Through Jesus Christ our risen Lord. Amen.

[1] John 28:1 ff.

[2] Lance Parks, on Presbynet, #1907.

[3] William Barclay, Matthew, vol. 2, p. 376.

[4] J.S. Hewett, Illustrations...., p. 50.

[5] John 28:10.

[6] From “The Word Encountered,” in Anglican Digest, n.d.

[7] J.S. Hewett, Illustrations...., p. 491.