This Easter was beautiful and bizarre. So much that comes from God is. I heard a sermon that weekend that deeply offended me. The first thing that bothered me was the pastor preached on the walk to Emmaus, not, explicitly, the Resurrection. The Resurrection story is the foundation of our faith. It is at the very center of the Christian identity. And this was an Easter sermon!
But listening more closely, it became clear why the pastor could not preach the Resurrection that day. He was saying that Jesus heals us, takes our brokenness to make something beautiful, and that is the point of Easter. He even compared Jesus to Dr. Phil.
My Lord is not a TV doctor.
Easter is not about me.
Easter is not about Jesus healing me. To be sure, healing is part of Easter. But Easter is so, so much more. Easter means that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, is victorious over death. It means that we need to fall on our knees-- together as a church, not just me in my special "healing"-- and worship our conquering King.
Most theological questions can be addressed using Charles Wesley hymns. "Christ The Lord Is Risen Today" contained far, far more sound theology than the sermon I was hearing this weekend. Christ the Lord is risen today; Alleluia! First, seeing the empty tomb, we worship him.
And we do it joyfully! There is no joy like the joy of Easter morning, sun shining, organ blaring, people on their feet, voices full and golden. Jesus is alive! Woo-hoo!
The next verse, quoting Paul and Isaiah, says, "Where, O Death, is now thy sting? Alleluia!" Easter means that death is conquered. When I die-- if I die before Jesus returns-- I will be safe with God, and upon Jesus' return resurrected together with the rest of the saints to new life. What a far greater promise than abstract emotional "healing."
The last verse says, "Ours the cross, the grave, the sky! Alleluia." Easter means that we must go to our own Good Fridays, take up the cross and deny ourselves, as Jesus says, but in so doing know there is an end, our redemption is coming! Every tear, every drop of sweat and blood, is rewarded by God in the end. We will be caught up in the air, as 1 Thessalonians says, not to be "raptured" but to watch God's new creation! Alleluia! Easter means I have hope when I suffer.
And that's part of why I was so offended by Easter as a promise of emotional healing. Did God heal Martin Luther's emotional wounds? Or John Wesley's? Or Kierkegaard? Or Mother Teresa, who labored in her dark night of the soul for fifty years without relief? Or Paul, who wrote 2 Corinthians "out of great distress and anguish of heart" out of love for the church, who "despaired of life itself," who said that he was being crucified daily for the sake of the Corinthians, back in 2 Corinthians, chapter 4? Or, shoot, mine?
Being a Christian is not easy. Being a pastor is not easy, either. It means riding the roller coaster Paul describes in 2 Corinthians, at one minute full of that great distress and the next full of "great confidence and pride" for the flock.
Something in me snapped, hearing that sermon. I felt inexplicable rage, and I said something to the pastor on my way out that I won't repeat here. It wasn't highly inappropriate; I didn't swear or yell. I just asked a question that I hope shamed him.
I'm not saying I'm wise. Christ knows I have a lot to learn. But in that moment, I was mad as hell and just couldn't take it anymore, and I think God was, too.
Hebrews says that our God is a consuming fire. Consumed, burning up, aflame, no longer I but Christ in me, us now, united in suffering...
It was a strange Easter. But I think it was a good one. And best of all, Christ is risen.
Christ is risen, indeed.
Edit: Just want to make it crystal-clear that the person who preached this sermon is not in Kirksville, and who it was is quite irrelevant to what I am trying to do in this blog post.
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