The Mayberry Preacher

IN THE CEREAL AISLE AT LOWES FOODS

Psalm 119: 97-105; John 1:43-51
Steve Lindsley
Confirmation Sunday
April 29, 2012

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So there you are, walking through the sliding glass doors of our very own Lowes Foods grocery store one weekday afternoon.  You’re there to grab a few quick things for dinner and something for breakfast next morning.  You’ve got your canvas grocery bag in hand, because you’re all green that way.  After peeking way over to the breads and seeing that, unfortunately, there are no free samples, you hang a quick left.  You walk past the flowers station and sniff in the fresh aroma; you glance over to your right to see if there’s a good Merlot or Chambourcin on sale.  

You head past the gift cards and candy and vegetables, all the way to Aisle 8 – the cereal aisle.  A few feet down on your left, you stop and ponder what you should stock your kitchen pantry with.  Your heart is saying Cookie Crisp, but your head says Fiber One, right above.  You’re lost in this all-too-familiar breakfast food dilemma when you hear someone to your right, laughing to themselves.  You glance over there.  It's some guy, mid-30's or so.  You don’t recognize him.  Nothing out of the ordinary, except that he's totally enamored with something he’s holding – a box of Honey Nut Cheerios.

You turn back to reach for the Cookie Crisp when the guy speaks, apparently to you.  He says, “Man, this is something!  Look!  You get a free curvy straw inside with each purchase!” He points to the logo across the front that reads: Curvy Straw Inside!  He seems to assume you're just as amazed about this as he is, so he continues: “And check this out - there’s a curvy straw maze on the back too.  And it’s half-price today!”

You smile at him; the kind of polite smile that says you really have no desire to continue this conversation, thank you very much.  You’re hoping he picks up on the hint.  He doesn’t.  He continues on: "You know, I love this stuff.  They come out with some new-fangled cereal every day, based on some cartoon show or something.  But there's no beating the original, don’t you think so?

“I……guess….” you reply.

“Yeah.  And it's good for you, too.  Like it says on the front: Can Help Lower Cholesterol.  The perfect breakfast food!  It's like I heard someone say one time: It’s sweet, it gives you a great start to your morning and clears the heart of evil things.  At least I think they were talking about Honey Nut Cheerios.  Maybe it was forgiveness.”

You're starting to feel a little uncomfortable.  I mean, who launches into random conversations about cereal with total strangers in the grocery aisle?  You begin looking for an out, a reason to excuse yourself.  So you say, “Yeah, that's great.  Listen, I gotta go; I'm meeting some friends for dinner.

“Oh, I know,” he responds.  “They’re already at the Thai restaurant waiting for you.  And one of them might be a few minutes late. I believe she's feeding the dog.”

Okay, now you’re freaked out!  Because the truth is that you are meeting some friends at the Thai restaurant, it is a few minutes late, and one of them has a dog she feeds right before dinner.  How in the world could he have known this?? 

You ask him his name.  And he says, “Oh, I’m sorry.  My name is Jesus.”

You're suddenly aware that you're staring at him; just staring with an expressionless look on your face and your mouth wide open.  Staring at this guy who looks nothing like Jesus, unless Jesus wore jeans and a t-shirt and walked around espousing his love for Honey Nut Cheerios.  You are totally at a loss with how to respond; and when you finally speak, the best you can come up with is, "Oh – is that a family name or something?”

He laughs and says, "You could say that.  I’ve been around for a while.  Actually, I need to be honest with you about something.  I didn’t really come for the Honey Nut Cheerios, though I love the stuff, and the curly straw looks incredible.  No, the truth is I came here to see you.”

You feel the color run out of your face, and for a second you are extremely tempted to turn and run.  But you stay.  For some reason, you stay.  And you gather yourself together and ask, “Why is it exactly that you've been looking for me?”

“Well,” he replies, “I’d like for you to follow me.”

“Follow you?  You want ME to follow you?”

“Yes,” he says. 

“But why?  Did I do something wrong?”

He laughs again – he seems to enjoy doing that.  “No, no, not at all.  On the contrary, I believe in you very much.  That’s why I’ve called you.

“I’m sorry," you say, "I don’t think I remember hearing you call me before.”

“Yeah, I know; my voice gets drowned out pretty easily these days.  You see, I've known you since the day you were born.  When you were a baby, baptized in your church, I was there.  Now you’re all grown up and taking on responsibilities and facing new challenges. Your whole life has been leading up to this moment – here in the cereal aisle at Lowes Foods. The moment when I ask you to follow me.”

You pause to soak all this in.  And you realize that if it were anyone else, you would’ve been long gone by now - out the door in a flash; maybe reporting the incident to the store manager.  But you stayed and listened, because something inside of you told you to.

“So,” Jesus says, “what do you think?  Will you follow me?”

********************

Have you ever imagined something like this?  Jesus himself, walking the streets of our little town, hanging out in the cereal aisle, searching each one of us out, simply to ask us to follow him.  You ever wonder what you would do if some man literally came up to you and introduced himself as Jesus Christ?  Would you take him up on his offer and follow him?  What does it really mean for you and me to follow Jesus?

See, I’ll tell you why I’m thinking about this today.  I’m thinking about this because this morning, we are celebrating some folks who, in different ways, are choosing today to do just that - to follow Jesus.  Earlier we recognized Bill's graduation from seminary as he answers Jesus' call to ordained ministry.  And of course, on this Confirmation Sunday, we give thanks to God that Emma, Matthew, Logan and Hunt have decided to follow Jesus by making a profession of faith and joining this church. 

And I think it's important to recognize that, while the faith they profess today is certainly rooted in this church and in the faith of all who have come before them, it is also very much their own faith.  Today they join this church because they want to - not because they have to; not because it's something that’s expected of them.  They have made a choice – they’ve chosen God.  Or, more accurately, God has chosen them, and they’ve recognized that.  And in their own way, each of them are meeting Jesus in the cereal aisle of Lowes Foods and answering his question, “Will you follow me?”

And really, isn’t that something we all do at some point in our lives, when you get right down to it?  It's not all that different from what a couple of disciples did years ago, hanging around the outskirts of Galilee, when some guy named Jesus came up to them.  Walked right up to Philip, in fact, and said, “You – follow me.”  And what did Philip do?  He went and found his buddy Nathaniel, and begged him to come meet this man from Nazareth.  Come and see, he said.  Nathaniel was skeptical, though; wondering if anything good could ever come out of Nazareth, like Nazareth was Toast or Cana or some remote part of Stokes county.  But Philip insisted: Come and see.  Just come and see.

You know, I gotta tell you, I see where Nathaniel is coming from here.  I get his skepticism and doubts.  Because to “come and see” means to give up a part of ourselves, when honestly, we’ve got a full plate already.  We’ve got school and jobs, we have play practice and piano lessons and dance competitions.  We’ve got family reunions and Scouts and meetings.  Not to mention that money is tight and so is our time.  Not to mention that following someone means really trusting them, believing in them; and do we really believe?  Do we really believe Jesus is who he said he was, who everyone else says he is?  Do we really believe the church is the body of Christ, even though sometimes the church doesn’t act very Jesus-like?

If there’s one thing I love about the confirmation journey the four of you are on, it is this:  as you prepare for the “Come and see” part; as you prepare to follow Jesus, you get to ask all those questions.  In fact, that’s precisely what Confirmation is for!  And I want you to know that you should be commended for that.  Because too many people in this world take everything at face value; believe everything that's laid before them without question.  And frankly, it's terribly easy to do that, because life sure is a whole lot simpler when everything is handed to you; everything either black or white, right or wrong, in or out.  And so I love the fact that Nathaniel is in this story, because honestly, I think most of us are very much like him.

Back to that story.  Philip takes Nathaniel to see Jesus.  And in his first words Jesus reveals a number of things about Nathaniel that even he didn’t know.  And so he is shocked, kind of like that guy in the cereal aisle; and he confesses Jesus to be the Son of God.  And Jesus’ response is marvelous: he says, “You will see greater things than these! “ I like to think today, Jesus would’ve said something more like, You ain’t seen nothing yet! 

Which reminds me of the Psalmist’s words:

How sweet are your words to my taste,
Sweeter than honey to my mouth!
Your word is a lamp to my feet
And a light to my path.

A path that leads us from this day of confirmation into the unknown – but into the unknown with our family of faith and with God.

It’s like four-year old Elizabeth once said.  Her father was putting her to bed one night; and as he tucked her in she leaned across the pillow and whispered in his ear something very profound for a four-year old.  She said, “Daddy, I don’t understand life.”  Slightly taken aback, her father fumbled with words, finally saying, “Well, honey, I don’t understand it either – but I’d say the best part is doing it together.”  And instantly little Elizabeth corrected him: “Daddy, the funnest part is doing it with God!”

Emma, Hunt, Matthew, Logan, all of us – Jesus is there, standing in the cereal aisle as Lowes Foods, waiting for us.  Waiting so when we come to him, he can interrupt our schedules and our plans, and ask us to follow him.  So come and see, my friends.  Because truly, you ain’t seen nothing yet!  In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, AMEN.

STOP FREAKING OUT!

Luke 24: 36-48; Psalm 4: 4-8
Steve Lindsley
April 22, 2012

 

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So our scripture today from the gospel of Luke begins rather awkwardly: While they were talking about this….  That’s how it starts.  And so right off the bat there’s more things we don’t know than things we do.  We know that there’s some talking going on.  But we don’t know who’s doing the talking, nor do we know what it is they’re talking about it.

And you know what this reminds me of?  This reminds of people – and I know you know the type I’m talking about – people who, when they start a conversation with you, you immediately have this sensation as if you’ve been plopped down right in the middle of some conversation you know absolutely nothing about.  You know folks who do this?  I have a good friend who does this sort of thing to me all the time.  He’ll call me up on the phone: Hey, Steve! So listen – I spoke with that guy, and he thinks the first idea is much better than the other one, but not unless it can happen on a different night at the previous location.  How’s that sound, Steve?  Doesn’t this drive you nuts?!  Your brain has to go into multitasking mode, as one half keeps listening to what the person is saying, while the other half is sifting through mental file cabinets from previous conversations, all hoping to eventually figure out what this guy is talking about!

While they were talking about this…  Like your high school English teacher always told you, we have to read back a little bit.  We have to get some context.  Because scripture, like so much in life, never happens in a vacuum.  We read back into the 23rd chapter and we see that the “they” that’s referred to here are the disciples – women and men and, more specifically, the two who had walked on the road to Emmaus when they happened upon the risen Christ.  And what was it they were talking about?  Well, they’re talking about Jesus, as most people were.  This incredible news that was slowly starting to get out – that on that Easter Sunday morning long ago, a morning we celebrated in this very sanctuary two Sundays prior, the stone was moved, the tomb was empty, and Jesus was alive again!  So perhaps understandably so, the people who had walked and talked and lived and laughed with Jesus for the last three years were, in fact, talking about Jesus.

And that’s when it happened: While they were talking about this, while the disciples were talking about Jesus, Jesus himself stood among them.  All of the sudden, it reads; as if he appeared out of thin air like something in a Harry Potter movie.  But we know that’s not it.  We know those disciples were so enamored in their conversation, so consumed by the news of Jesus being alive again, that they simply did not notice when Jesus came into the room with them.  Came into the room and into the presence of his closest friends.  And he greets them simply by saying, “Peace be with you.”  I have to wonder, if this took place in 2012, if he would’ve said something more along the lines of, “What’s up!”

Never has a simple friendly greeting been met with such an animated response.  Those disciples were terrified.  Absolutely terrified!  Because, see, it’s one thing to talk about Jesus being alive again; it’s one thing to toss that idea around in your head a little bit.  But it’s another thing entirely to be confronted with that risen Jesus, in the flesh – right there in the room with you.  And so they were terrified.  They were scared to death.  In fact, they actually thought for a second that they were seeing a ghost!  Have you ever had an experience where you thought you saw a ghost?  And not in a haunted house at Halloween or something like that, but some “presence” that you weren’t expecting and couldn’t explain?  You remember that surge of adrenaline, that kick to your heart rate, that quickness of breath that shot through your entire body? 

That’s what those disciples were feeling here: While they were talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said, “What’s up!”  They were terrified, and thought they were seeing a ghost.”

And, you know, I love the way Jesus responds to this:

“Why are you frightened?  Why all the doubts?  Look at my hands; look at my feet – it’s really me!  Touch me. Look me over from head to toe. A ghost doesn’t have muscle and bone like this.

Jesus walks into the room and the place goes crazy.  And what does Jesus basically say to them?  He says, Y’all, stop freaking out!  Stop freaking out!  He shows off his legs and limbs to prove he’s not some figment of their imagination.  He even eats a piece of fish to prove it’s him, it’s really him – because as everyone knows, ghosts don’t really have much of an appetite.

Stop freaking out!  But really, Jesus, can you blame them?  Can you blame them for being a little overwhelmed by this strange turn of events?  We talked about it two weeks ago on Easter Sunday; how Mary Magdalene just assumed that the man who greeted her outside the empty tomb that morning was the gardener.  That’s because one of the foundations of life on this planet, for however many years it’s been around, is this: dead people don’t come back to life.  And in a broader sense, when we think about it, our hopes and our dreams – the outlandish things we long for and wish would happen – our hopes and dreams are called such for a reason: because more often than not, they never become anything more than just hopes and dreams. 

Which kind of makes us wonder, I think, if what those disciples were freaking out about was not really Jesus being in the room with them, but the realization of what that meant.  That death had been defeated and that Jesus really was who they hoped he was; who they dreamt him to be.  I mean, think about it – Jesus Christ, the risen son of God.  Man, that’s enough to freak anybody out!  You know, sometimes it’s not the bad stuff in life, but the potential of the most wonderful thing happening that scares us silly.

What are you afraid of?  It’s not just a question Jesus asked those disciples.  It’s also a question that was asked of a locker room full of football players in the 2000 movie The Replacements.  Anybody seen this?  The story goes that, prior to the beginning of a professional football season, the players went on strike over salary disputes.  So teams had to stock their rosters with second-rate rejects who just the week before were working in grocery stores or factories or – in one case – in prison.

The head coach, played by Gene Hackman, was faced with the daunting task of uniting this motley crew of misfits into a cohesive team in just a few weeks.  And it wasn’t just X’s and O’s he had to worry about.   The players were struggling to get along.  They didn’t believe in each other.  They didn’t believe in themselves.  So in one of their last team meetings before the first game, Coach gathers the players in the locker room and asks them: What are you afraid of? 

After a long and uncomfortable pause, a 300 pound former sumo wrestler named Franklin raises his hand.  And Franklin says, “Spiders! I’m scared to death of spiders.”  Another guy nods in agreement, and a third chimes in: “Yeah, man, spiders creep me out too!”  Coach shakes his head in annoyance:  “No, no, I’m talking about on the football field.  What are you afraid of on the football field?”  Franklin, with a quizzical look, says, “Spiders on the football field?”

Now they’re all talking. Someone else says they’re afraid of roaches, another can’t stand poison ivy.  The kicker who has played soccer all his life despises roller coasters.  The receiver with the long mullet says haircuts terrify him.

They’re obviously not getting what the coach is going for, until Falco speaks up.  Falco, the all-star college quarterback who got injured at the end of his senior year and never fulfilled all the expectations.  Falco raises his hand.  And he said, “Coach, I’m afraid of quicksand.  I’m afraid of quicksand, but not the way you think.  See, you’re playing football.  You’ve won awards, they say you’re gonna go high in the draft, make a lot of money.  They tell you you’re set.  And then you get injured.  And you try to work your way back, but then one thing goes wrong... and then another... and another.  And the harder you fight and the more you hope, the deeper you sink.  Until you can't move, you can't breathe, because you're in over your head.  Like quicksand.”

And now the room is quiet; and all the other guys nod their head in agreement, because this is one fear they share together.  The fear of hopes and dreams unrealized and unachieved.  The fear that nothing will ever change.

You know what the crazy thing is?  In a sense those disciples in that room, right before Jesus walked in, in a sense their lives would’ve been so much easier had Jesus just stayed in the tomb.  Easier in the sense that that’s exactly what they and everyone else would’ve expected.  Yes, they would’ve mourned the loss of a dear friend.  Yes, they would’ve been devastated at the end of his mission and his dream for the world, for God’s kingdom on earth.  But sometimes, sometimes it’s easier to live in a world where you can see what’s coming, where you know what to expect, and where hopes and dreams stay hopes and dreams.

But it wasn’t going to be that easy, was it?  The stone was rolled away; the tomb was empty.  And Jesus came to them in a room and scared them to death, this man who had defied death, this man who said “What’s up!” and told them stop freaking out, even though they had every right in the world to.  Told them they didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

How many times have you heard someone say to you, “Don’t be afraid” when being afraid was exactly the way you felt?  You know, if there is one thing the Bible says to us over and over and over again, it is not to be afraid.  Literally. Did you know that the phrase “Do not fear” appears 58 times in the Old and New Testaments combined?  58 times!  More than anything about who we should or shouldn’t vote for, more than anything that’s allegedly in there about homosexuality or other cultural divides so often promulgated by people of faith.  Fifty-eight times, it says, “Do Not Fear.”  Fifty-eight times, God implores the faithful not to be imprisoned by their anxieties, not to be afraid of the amazing and wonderful things God can do in their life, in this world.  Fifty-eight times, God implores us to dare to dream – I know that sound terribly cliché, but it’s true, because dreaming and hoping are the very embodiment of non-fearful living.  Fifty-eight times, God proposes a radical alternative – to replace fear with hope, hate with love, prejudice with acceptance, indifference with compassion, judgment with forgiveness.  All of which accompanied Jesus out of the tomb on that Easter morning.

So tell me something, First Presbyterian – tell me what YOU are afraid of.  And you know I’m not talking about spiders or poison ivy or roller coasters, right?  No, what are those things that keep you from latching on to the reality of the resurrected Christ who is sitting there with you, right now?  Now that Easter is in the rearview mirror, now as we move into the life that awaits us, what things make you live fearfully and keep those hopes and dreams at bay? 

Because Jesus was spot-on when he told us: We’re the witnesses.  We are!  I mean, we may not have been in the room with the disciples way back when, but you know what?  We are here right now.  And since we’re here, and since the risen Christ is here with us, we are alibis in this amazing, freaking-out-worthy venture we call the Christian life.  And you know what that means?  That means we are automatically part of that same hope and same dream that caused suck a ruckus all those years ago, where our worst fears were transformed. 

So freak out at the risen Jesus, if you must.  But only for a little while.  Because one day, Jesus’ presence and God’s hopes and dreams for us and for the world will not be something unexpected.  It will just be the way things are supposed to be.  In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, thanks be to God.  AMEN.

SIGNS AND WONDERS - WHAT WAS LOST IS FOUND

John 20: 1-18, John 11: 17, 21-27, 38-44
Steve Lindsley
Easter Sunday
April 8, 2012

 

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Have you ever lost something that was so precious and dear to you?  So important and so vital that you didn’t think you’d be able to live without it; and how you’d give anything – anything – to have it back?  Have you ever missed something like that so badly?

Because I’m telling you, as I stood outside the empty tomb that morning all those years ago, I was drowning in my loss.  They have taken my Lord and my savior, and I don’t know where they put him.  It was all I could think about.  See, I had already lost Jesus once on the cross.  And now I had lost him a second time.

Going to the tomb that morning was the last thing I wanted to do, you understand.  Rising out of bed long before the sun’s light raced across the earth.  If I had my druthers, I would’ve stayed in bed all day long.  Hiding from the new day that would remind me, excruciatingly so, all that had happened to Jesus in just three days. Captured and tried and executed as a criminal; put to death by the Roman empire and those who simply could not stand anyone else claiming authority.  I had been forced to face his death alone when everyone else ran away.  I stood my ground. I was there when he breathed his last and died; I was there when they sealed him in that cold dark cave, entombing not just him but all the hope and light and love he embodied.  And now, every bit of it would decay and rot in that tomb.  Because nothing that goes into a tomb ever comes out.

It was not at all what I wanted to do; to go and anoint his dead body, as is our Jewish custom.  But I did up anyway.  I did it for him; only for him.  Even in his death, I still walked where he led me.  And so as I made my way along that winding path with the new day sun peeking around rock crevices and trees, I prepared for the onslaught on my senses – the smell of decay, the sight of decomposing flesh, the sound of silence that finds its home in tombs.  All reminding me of the harsh truth that I was still coming to grips with – that Jesus, my teacher and preacher, my Lord and my savior, my master and my friend, Jesus was dead.  Alive no more.

We all had seen the signs, first-hand.  How he filled the jars with new wine at the wedding, wine that was even better than what was in them before, saving the best till now.  How he healed the centurion’s son and the crippled man, showing us that God’s grace was meant for all.  How he fed the thousands of hungry with an abundance we never even knew we had; how he walked on water and lifted Peter right out of his very failure.  How he gave sight to the one who had never seen before, and how he exposed as blind those who had made such a great pretense of seeing.

And then, just a week or so before, how Jesus walked right up to that tomb; a tomb much like the one I was heading to at this very moment.  A tomb that belonged to his friend Lazarus, who was our friend too.  He had died to us; he was lost to us. 

His sister Martha, expressing to Jesus her faith in the resurrection to come.  But Jesus told her something else: I am the resurrection and the life, he said.  And with that, he turned to the now open tomb, all the stench coming out, and told Lazarus to get out of there.  And Lazarus walked right out!  Still wrapped in burial cloths, but alive again, breathing again, living again!  What was lost was found!
Signs, every last one of them.  Not signs to “wow” the crowds or to prove anything.  Signs to point us all closer and closer to Jesus, like mileposts along the journey.  Signs showing us who Jesus was, revealing the glory of God to the world!

But now, now all that glory was lost forever, sealed away in a tomb with a stone rolled in front.

Except that stone was no longer there!  That’s what I saw with my own two eyes as I rounded the corner to the place where they laid him.  The tomb was wide open.  Burial cloths folded on the ground; the stone off to the side.  And my stomach sank as I realized that I had lost my Jesus again.  They have taken my Lord and my savior, and I don’t know where they put him. 

What do you do with loss like that, huh?  What do you do with yourself when you lose something that can never be replaced?  When what you’ve lost is so much more than a possession of yours, but is the very definition of who you are?  Because we all found our true selves in Jesus.  We all had our jars filled, our brokenness healed, our hunger satisfied.  We all were lifted right out of our failures and healed of our blindness.  That’s who Jesus was to us!  So what do you in that hopeless period that follows the cross, when empty tombs are all you’re left with; a painful reminder that Jesus is nowhere to be found?

Because, see, I think so much of life happens in that place.  Loss is a frequent companion along the journey, isn’t it?  Loss of a loved one.  Loss of innocence.  Loss of a relationship, loss of a job.  Loss of what was familiar and comfortable; loss of a much hoped-for opportunity.  Jesus came to put an end to loss forever; and show us the beauty of what we can find in and through him.  Jesus came to do all that, and more.  And now he was lost to us.  He was lost to me. 

They come running back to the tomb with me, running back up that same path, running to see what I had seen – or not seen, as it were.  Peter and the “other disciple,” who ran faster than the rest of us.  So fast that we couldn’t even remember his name!  But that’s the way it is, isn’t it?  We all make our own pace in the journey that leads us to the tomb, don’t we?  Some of us take more time; others can’t get there fast enough.   The important thing, though, is that we’re all heading in the same direction.  We’re all headed there together.

They see exactly what I had already seen, what I had told them about – the moved stone, the open tomb, the folded burial cloths.  One says he believes – but what, exactly?  What does he believe?  He doesn’t say, he just runs away, so excited.  Me?  I am as lost as ever.

And so it is there, standing outside the open tomb, where he finds me.  The gardener.  He finds me there, weeping my eyes out.  And he asks me what’s wrong.  He asks me who I am looking for.  So I tell him, as I’ve told them all a thousand times:

They have taken my Lord and my Savior, and I don’t know where they put him.

And I respectfully ask this gardener that if he has taken my Jesus, if he has put his body somewhere, to just let me know where, so I can go with my ointment and anoint his body as is our custom.  Just grant me this one favor, please.  One small grace so I can bring closure to all of this and entomb Jesus one last time. 

And it is at that moment, at that very moment, that I find him.  And all he has to do is say my name!  Mary.  He says “Mary” and the last sign reveals itself to me, like the early morning sun illuminating the darkened earth.  It is the miracle to end all miracles!  Because this man before me is not the gardener.  He is the one I’d been searching for all morning long – all my life, really.  He is Jesus!  And he is not lost, he is found.  He is not dead, he is alive!

Tell the others, he says to me.  And so I do.  I run back and tell everyone that I have seen the Lord!  Seen him with my own eyes; heard him with my ears.  Jesus – not lost, but found.  Not dead, but alive!  I tell them all, and they hear me.  And they go and tell others.  And even now, we are still telling the story – after all these years, the wonderful story of a moved stone and an empty tomb and folded burial cloths and a gardener who was not a gardener and Jesus calling me by my name and being alive all over again.  Alive for every one of us!

And you know what I eventually came to understand, much later?  It took awhile, but I know it’s the truth.  Jesus was never lost – I was.  I was the lost one.  We all are lost, aren’t we – if we’re honest with ourselves?  Every one of us, trying to figure out who we are, what we’re here to do, what our life means.  Trying to make sense of a world where jars are always empty, where human bodies are perpetually broken, where stomachs go hungry all the time, where failure is a constant companion, where eyes are overcome with blindness.

That is the world we know – until that moment when Jesus finds us!  He finds us when he comes out of an empty tomb that simply cannot contain him one moment longer.  He finds us and embraces us in everlasting love.  And he fills our empty jars, he heals our brokenness, he feeds our bodies, he lifts us out of our failures, he makes the blind to see.  Signs, pointing us to the glory of God.  Pointing us to him.

There is no doubt: Easter is a miracle!  But do you know what the real miracle of Easter is?  It is not that Jesus walked out of a tomb.  It is not that one man defied death.  The real miracle of Easter, the real sign of God’s glory, is that Jesus, like he did with Lazarus, beckons each one of us out of our own tombs – he tells us to “get out of there!”  All those things that lead to decay and rot; all those things that bind us up like burial cloths.  Jesus frees us from them!  He frees us so we can be who we were created to be: children of God, walking in newness of life.  And what a precious life it is!  Not a life to be wasted, but a life to be lived to the fullest!  And not an ending to our journey of faith, as if victory is all we’re after.  But a beginning.  A beginning to the real work of the kingdom that is just getting started.

That, my friends, is the miracle of Easter.  And it’s a miracle that changed the world.  For we all are lost.  But through the risen Jesus, we all are found.  Called out by our very name and claimed forever by the God who loves us.  Jesus Christ is Risen!  Alleluia!  In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, thanks be to God.  AMEN!