Easter Day, Year C

April 4, 2010 – St. John’s, Plymouth

The Rev. Susie Shaefer

As one of our Easter hymns says: Welcome Happy Morning! Welcome to all of you who are here this morning, whether you are usually found here on Sundays or whether you are visiting from another church, another state or from down the street. We are blessed this year in Michigan, to be celebrating Easter on such a lovely spring day. Its somehow easier to proclaim the Resurrection on the kind of morning we are having here, where blooming daffodils and sunshine and birds remind us that indeed, spring and signs of life are all around. As we hear the story of Mary Magdalene in the garden, we can create a picture in our minds of a newly sprouting garden, the earth echoing was God was doing in Jesus Christ on that first Easter morning. 

Well, as they say, hindsight is 20/20. Even with budding trees and lengthening days, not to mention Jesus’ teachings about his death and resurrection, the disciples did not seem prepared to celebrate the first Easter. Our story doesn’t begin with sunshine or flowers. The first Easter began in the dark when Mary Magdalene crept out in the early morning stillness to visit the tomb of her friend and Lord: to care for his body, to grieve in silence, to tend to the things that need to happen after a loved one has died. She seems utterly shocked to discover that the tomb was empty, and ran to tell the other disciples the news. The disciples aren’t any less confused: Peter and the other disciple race each other to the tomb, look inside, and go back home.

The Gospel tells us that they “believe” something, but they don’t understand any of it. In their mix of belief and doubt, curiosity and confusion, they leave poor Mary sitting alone in the garden and crying. It is only when Jesus calls her by name that her cloud of grief or loneliness or anger is lifted and she becomes the first witness to the Resurrection. Given all that she has seen as a close friend of Jesus – even those two angels she just had a conversation with in the tomb – we might think that nothing could surprise Mary. Yet, her encounter with the risen Christ seems to be just that: an overwhelming, confusing, joyful surprise.

After years of hearing this story each spring, we’ve become less surprised by appearance of Jesus in the garden. It seems that everything at this time of year is about new life, and new life with Christ fits right in to the season. So, I was struck this week by an off-hand comment I read. This may be obvious to some of you, but the author noted that in half the world – the southern hemisphere – its not spring right now, its autumn and so Easter day falls in fall. I became curious about what it would be like to celebrate Easter when the days were getting shorter and plants were being harvested instead of budding, so I contacted a clergy friend originally from Australia. She said that she misses “Lent getting gloomier and gloomier.  Easter comes as an incredible gift, something counter the ordinary created order.  I think there is a greater sense of the miraculous nature of it.  The danger of Easter being with spring is that it just seems natural.”

There is nothing natural about Resurrection. Resurrection was and is surprising. In raising Jesus from the dead, God is doing something new, beyond our hopes and beyond our fears. Mary and the other disciples were caught off-guard that morning: unsure of where Jesus was and what God was doing, they ran around and ran away. Sometimes, that’s still what we do when we are unsure of where Jesus is or what God is doing. And that’s alright - encountering the risen Lord is not something that we can expect to produce by taking logical steps, and experiences of the Resurrection are not earned by our careful planning. God can surprise us with glimpses of the living Christ when we are at our faithful best, but also when we are acting like the disciples did on that first Easter. God can bring us to new life in Christ through so much: care, duty, grief, curiosity, belief, questions, confusion or tears. 

Its hard to wrap our lives around an idea that can’t be pinned down, and to follow a God who surprises and amazes us, but it is the call of the Christian life. As followers of the risen Christ, we can’t decide when and where God will show up and surprise us, but we can make ourselves ready. We can, in the words of poet Wendell Berry, “Practice Resurrection[1]”. Because Jesus won the ultimate struggle in overcoming death, dare to dream that your children or your parents will overcome their struggles. Dream that you will too. Look for God in the dark and in gardens and especially in the gardener. See the risen Lord in a graceful death or a recovering friend or a curious child.  Love the things – and the people – that make no sense to you. Come to church and worship with them too. Eat at God’s table and share the feast with imperfect people. Spread hope in places where it is unfamiliar by building, feeding, teaching and giving – whatever it is that you can offer the world.  And then join Mary in being a witness to the Resurrection. Even in days of confusion or months of grief and doubt, we can practice Resurrection and surprise the world and ourselves by letting our lives tell the story that, Alleluia, Christ is risen.