Readings were Isaiah 25, 6-9 and Mark 16, 1-8
As we celebrate Easter, I’d like to ask, what does the Christian teaching of the resurrection of Jesus from the dead mean?
Our Old Testament reading from Isaiah 25 poses this question in its expectation that God will destroy death. In actual fact, there is almost no certain resurrection hope in the Old Testament, but Isaiah uses metaphorical language to describe the nature of the era that would result from God's saving intervention. In the short term he was talking about a return to Jerusalem from exile – reference to “On this Mountain” is intended to mean the city built on Mount Zion. As we read the passage with our New Testament Easter perspective, it is hard to avoid reading the cross and the resurrection into verses like “on this mountain he will destroy the shroud that enfolds all peoples… he will swallow up death forever.” Today of all days, these words evoke a dramatic picture of Calvary’s hilltop scene, and of Matthew’s image of the Temple veil being torn in two as Jesus died. The first thing resurrection means then, is that death need not be the end.
This theme is echoed in Revelation 21, which speaks of the New Jerusalem, the ultimate intimacy with God, where there is no more death or mourning or crying or pain. This is what the resurrection of Jesus opens up for us. The language of salvation in Isaiah 25 points us to the work of Jesus upon the cross, and the love of God in raising him from the dead. So the second thing resurrection means is that we can be in a personal relationship with God, both in Christ and because of what he achieved.
But who is “we”? In the Old Testament as a whole, the focus is on God’s relationship with his chosen people, the Jews. In this passage however there is a prefiguring of the New Testament’s re-definition of that term, as the biblical hope for Israel is extended to include all of humankind. This universal hope and the promise that death is irrelevant make this an entirely appropriate passage to be thinking about on Easter Sunday. What Jesus won by conquering death is available to all who put their trust in him, not just people of one ethnic group. Even this seems to be prefigured in Isaiah 25 verse 9; “This is the Lord, we trusted in him; let us rejoice and be glad in his salvation.” So the picture Isaiah paints of a people returning to their home city has become a picture of the Kingdom of God, of those who by putting their trust in Christ have been delivered from death and will dwell with God. The third thing that resurrection means is the redefinition of humanity as potentially all being the people of God. No one is outside this scope, no matter how evil they may appear; the victory of the cross and the empty tomb is just as available to a mass murderer as it is to you and me. We would both simply have to place our faith and trust in Christ, and the burden of our sin, whether great or small, is washed away.
So what actually happened at the resurrection? Well Mark 16 is as interesting for what it does not say as for what it does say. It describes the appearance of an angel but not that of Jesus himself. When we set Mark’s account alongside the writings and theology of St Paul, Paul has no description of the empty tomb and Mark has no description of the resurrection appearances.
In fact we must read both narratives in the light of each other. The empty tomb, as described in the Gospel, is an unambiguous symbol which finds its meaning when read alongside the resurrection appearances, which we will be looking at over the coming weeks. The resurrection appearances gain their definitive meaning from the description of the empty tomb. Put together, the Easter message is that Jesus, in rising from the dead, was revealed as a glorious heavenly being who was entitled to universal worship. The absence of a body supports a faith in the resurrection of the body rather than just a separation of body and spirit. The fourth thing that resurrection means then is that in Christ God re-drew the boundaries of heaven and earth, and opened the gate between them.
The original version of the Gospel probably ended at Mark 16.8, since what follows is a kind readers’ digest version of the resurrection appearances from the other gospels. If this is the case, the subtle absence of full narrative closure is striking. The women said nothing to anyone for they were afraid. Indeed, the original Greek wording appears unfinished: 'they were afraid of … ' what? We never find out. Somehow, Mark is hanging on to his notion of a secret right to the end, and doesn't ever actually say that the risen Christ was seen. So we need to acknowledge that resurrection also means a mystery. We simply don’t know how he did it.
In conclusion, Mark’s account brings us back to the question of what the resurrection means and how the disciples became convinced about it. It leaves space for doubts and fears but is unequivocal in the description of the empty tomb, and of the coming mission of the disciples to go into Galilee, and thence into the entire world. From there we return to Isaiah’s picture of a salvation given by God for the whole world to benefit from. Yet there is no passivity in this; in language reminiscent of the New Testament, Isaiah portrays the nations of the earth acknowledging God, and putting their trust in him for salvation.
To fully take the meaning of resurrection on for ourselves, for our own faith, this is what we are called to do as well.
Let us pray.
Some material by Rev'd Dr Jonathan Knight taken from www.rootsontheweb.com and is copyright © Roots for Churches Ltd 2008.
Tuesday, 21 April 2009
Monday, 6 April 2009
Lindsell and Stebbing Palm Sunday 09
Readings were Psalm 118 and Mark 11,1-11
You know that feeling you get when someone starts telling you a story about something that happened to them, or a joke, or whatever, and about 5 seconds in, you remember that they have already told you this thing, and you know what’s coming at the end of the story, you’ve heard the punchline? You are usually too polite to stop them and say, actually you told me this yesterday or last week or whenever, so you listen on to the end, and there is no impact for you, because you’ve already heard it.
Well, as we arrive at the beginning of Holy Week, I am only too aware that we know the end of the story; it is a story that has been told many many times to us and to our forebears; how Jesus Christ rode into Jerusalem on a donkey and was welcomed as a King, but within days had been tried and condemned to death, executed and buried as a convicted criminal, yet rose from the dead after 3 days in the tomb. We know the end of the story because we are still living in its light. We know the end of the story, but that ought not to diminish the impact for us of this episode. It certainly did not diminish for Mark’s first readers, who evaluated the triumphal entry in the light of the resurrection. Of course, we can only call it the triumphal entry if Jesus does go on to rise form the dead.
I’m fascinated by the fact that the crowds welcomed Jesus with open arms, they put down their cloaks and their palm branched to line his route from the Mount of Olives into the valley and up into Jerusalem. So they welcomed him but really they had no idea who he was; only the disciples – and arguably not all of those, had any clue. I was reminded of this on Thursday morning when, while waiting for my sports news bulletin on BBC breakfast TV I was subjected to 25 minutes of coverage of g20 leaders arriving at Excel; the cameras were all waiting for Barak Obama, but he was in a jam (or something) and so in the delay a stream of lesser faces were shown arriving, and the hapless newsreaders struggled to work out who the people greeting Gordon Brown were – the classic example being, on the arrival of an oriental chap, “So that’ll be the prime Minister of Japan”, “ no Bill, that’s Ban Kyi Moon, the UN secretary general.”
In our celebrity driven culture there is a tendency to run from one media hype to the next – for journalists and photographers that is sometimes literally true – if you have ever happened to be in an airport when film or sports stars are arriving you’ll know what I mean. They didn’t have media hype in Jerusalem in 33AD, but they did have an expectation of a coming King, a coming Saviour, to deliver the people from Roman occupation. So if the news came that Jesus was riding into town, the expectation would be high. The gospel writers reflect this expectation by showing Jesus as King – and not just King of Israel but of the entire world. The expectation may then have been exaggerated, much as tabloids tend to exaggerate today, but the gospel writers had a good reason for that – they wanted to make sure their readers got the point about the Messiah’s kingship being of David’s line, but of a different order – Jesus did not ride in as a conqueror but as a suffering servant. He did not come to boot the Romans out but to inaugurate a Kingdom not of this world.
It’s perhaps mostly about perceptions. Jesus was perceived by the crowds to be one kind of King, when actually he was and is a different kind of King altogether; his Kingdom is not of this world; he may have been born into a royal family but in order to ascend to the throne he had to die rather than stay alive, and citizens of his Kingdom are not limited by time space or geography. This has been a big challenge to me recently. As both Lindsell and Stebbing have bee thinking in recent months about how to describe ourselves and our vision, it is good, although not always easy, as part of that process, to consider how we are perceived by those who do not come to church.
In Lindsell I find that there is generally at the moment a perception of the church as being indeed a place of traditional values, an open door and a warm welcome. Our challenge is to make that perception into a motivation for people to welcome God into their lives in Christ. I am happy to be part of a church that stands for the things we say we stand for; what I wonder is, do any of them matte to those who aren’t here? And if not, how can we make it so that they do matter. My hunch is that we will need to carry on doing what we do – caring for others, those in need and those bereaved, and caring for our community, with a servant heart. This I believe is the pattern that fits with Jesus’ example.
In Stebbing I am beginning to realise that our pattern of church is a broken one. Firstly, because of a potential misunderstanding of what this service and the service at 5 pm tonight, are actually about. They are not primarily designed for people who already come to this church; rather, they are both intended to provide a means for us to open our door wide. In the morning, it is open those who do not currently come but who would prefer this kind of formal liturgical worship, and in the evening the same – for informal café style worship. So if regular church members are staying away “because they don’t like that kind of service”, then they are unable to invite anyone to come along, and the evangelistic endeavour is undermined.
Secondly, it may be that the perception of what church is for, who church is for and how we are part of church, is mismatched between church and village. In order to rectify that there is only one solution – to turn ourselves inside out. Then the village as while can see who we are and what we stand for, and then also there will be no wall between us. This will make is quite vulnerable, but I believe it is the pattern that fits with Jesus’ example.
That is the question to ask, isn’t it? “What would Jesus do?” There are many answers to this question, but they would all involve 2 things – a servant heart and a desire to glorify God.
One thing I know Jesus would not do is vote for the BNP. I only mention this because you are going to start seeing election posters for the European elections soon with an assertion from the BNP that Jesus would vote for them because they stand up for the persecuted. Of course, this is a democracy and you are free to vote for those loonies er… I mean that party of you so wish, but let us remember that Palm Sunday is not about democracy, it’s about monarchy, the Kingship of Christ over the entire world. Jesus’ Kingdom is not like a country or even a nation on this earth; it is not subject to elections for it is a true theocracy, in which God reigns, and as our Psalm reminded us, The Lord is good, and his love endures forever.
So even though you know what happens at the end, journey with me this Holy Week. Come with us on the Good Friday walk, and hear and re-live the passion narrative, the story of Jesus’ trail and crucifixion and death. And as you journey, reflect upon your own lives, as I will be reflecting upon mine. And as we near the celebration of resurrection, just after we have held our APCM, let us also think about a new start, for a new year, with a new and fresh vision to serve the people and glorify God. We need not worry if we are going over old ground, after all, at the end of the Triumphal entry, Jesus left the city and went back to the Mount of Olives.
The end is a bit sudden, but "live", we went straight into an act of commitment and the blessing of the palms
You know that feeling you get when someone starts telling you a story about something that happened to them, or a joke, or whatever, and about 5 seconds in, you remember that they have already told you this thing, and you know what’s coming at the end of the story, you’ve heard the punchline? You are usually too polite to stop them and say, actually you told me this yesterday or last week or whenever, so you listen on to the end, and there is no impact for you, because you’ve already heard it.
Well, as we arrive at the beginning of Holy Week, I am only too aware that we know the end of the story; it is a story that has been told many many times to us and to our forebears; how Jesus Christ rode into Jerusalem on a donkey and was welcomed as a King, but within days had been tried and condemned to death, executed and buried as a convicted criminal, yet rose from the dead after 3 days in the tomb. We know the end of the story because we are still living in its light. We know the end of the story, but that ought not to diminish the impact for us of this episode. It certainly did not diminish for Mark’s first readers, who evaluated the triumphal entry in the light of the resurrection. Of course, we can only call it the triumphal entry if Jesus does go on to rise form the dead.
I’m fascinated by the fact that the crowds welcomed Jesus with open arms, they put down their cloaks and their palm branched to line his route from the Mount of Olives into the valley and up into Jerusalem. So they welcomed him but really they had no idea who he was; only the disciples – and arguably not all of those, had any clue. I was reminded of this on Thursday morning when, while waiting for my sports news bulletin on BBC breakfast TV I was subjected to 25 minutes of coverage of g20 leaders arriving at Excel; the cameras were all waiting for Barak Obama, but he was in a jam (or something) and so in the delay a stream of lesser faces were shown arriving, and the hapless newsreaders struggled to work out who the people greeting Gordon Brown were – the classic example being, on the arrival of an oriental chap, “So that’ll be the prime Minister of Japan”, “ no Bill, that’s Ban Kyi Moon, the UN secretary general.”
In our celebrity driven culture there is a tendency to run from one media hype to the next – for journalists and photographers that is sometimes literally true – if you have ever happened to be in an airport when film or sports stars are arriving you’ll know what I mean. They didn’t have media hype in Jerusalem in 33AD, but they did have an expectation of a coming King, a coming Saviour, to deliver the people from Roman occupation. So if the news came that Jesus was riding into town, the expectation would be high. The gospel writers reflect this expectation by showing Jesus as King – and not just King of Israel but of the entire world. The expectation may then have been exaggerated, much as tabloids tend to exaggerate today, but the gospel writers had a good reason for that – they wanted to make sure their readers got the point about the Messiah’s kingship being of David’s line, but of a different order – Jesus did not ride in as a conqueror but as a suffering servant. He did not come to boot the Romans out but to inaugurate a Kingdom not of this world.
It’s perhaps mostly about perceptions. Jesus was perceived by the crowds to be one kind of King, when actually he was and is a different kind of King altogether; his Kingdom is not of this world; he may have been born into a royal family but in order to ascend to the throne he had to die rather than stay alive, and citizens of his Kingdom are not limited by time space or geography. This has been a big challenge to me recently. As both Lindsell and Stebbing have bee thinking in recent months about how to describe ourselves and our vision, it is good, although not always easy, as part of that process, to consider how we are perceived by those who do not come to church.
In Lindsell I find that there is generally at the moment a perception of the church as being indeed a place of traditional values, an open door and a warm welcome. Our challenge is to make that perception into a motivation for people to welcome God into their lives in Christ. I am happy to be part of a church that stands for the things we say we stand for; what I wonder is, do any of them matte to those who aren’t here? And if not, how can we make it so that they do matter. My hunch is that we will need to carry on doing what we do – caring for others, those in need and those bereaved, and caring for our community, with a servant heart. This I believe is the pattern that fits with Jesus’ example.
In Stebbing I am beginning to realise that our pattern of church is a broken one. Firstly, because of a potential misunderstanding of what this service and the service at 5 pm tonight, are actually about. They are not primarily designed for people who already come to this church; rather, they are both intended to provide a means for us to open our door wide. In the morning, it is open those who do not currently come but who would prefer this kind of formal liturgical worship, and in the evening the same – for informal café style worship. So if regular church members are staying away “because they don’t like that kind of service”, then they are unable to invite anyone to come along, and the evangelistic endeavour is undermined.
Secondly, it may be that the perception of what church is for, who church is for and how we are part of church, is mismatched between church and village. In order to rectify that there is only one solution – to turn ourselves inside out. Then the village as while can see who we are and what we stand for, and then also there will be no wall between us. This will make is quite vulnerable, but I believe it is the pattern that fits with Jesus’ example.
That is the question to ask, isn’t it? “What would Jesus do?” There are many answers to this question, but they would all involve 2 things – a servant heart and a desire to glorify God.
One thing I know Jesus would not do is vote for the BNP. I only mention this because you are going to start seeing election posters for the European elections soon with an assertion from the BNP that Jesus would vote for them because they stand up for the persecuted. Of course, this is a democracy and you are free to vote for those loonies er… I mean that party of you so wish, but let us remember that Palm Sunday is not about democracy, it’s about monarchy, the Kingship of Christ over the entire world. Jesus’ Kingdom is not like a country or even a nation on this earth; it is not subject to elections for it is a true theocracy, in which God reigns, and as our Psalm reminded us, The Lord is good, and his love endures forever.
So even though you know what happens at the end, journey with me this Holy Week. Come with us on the Good Friday walk, and hear and re-live the passion narrative, the story of Jesus’ trail and crucifixion and death. And as you journey, reflect upon your own lives, as I will be reflecting upon mine. And as we near the celebration of resurrection, just after we have held our APCM, let us also think about a new start, for a new year, with a new and fresh vision to serve the people and glorify God. We need not worry if we are going over old ground, after all, at the end of the Triumphal entry, Jesus left the city and went back to the Mount of Olives.
The end is a bit sudden, but "live", we went straight into an act of commitment and the blessing of the palms
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