I have seen the Lord.
Category: Easter
Speaker: The Rev. Shearon Sykes Wiliams
Easter morning is such a joyful, glorious celebration. There is a
fullness, a sense of completion, a feeling that all is right with the
world. We gather together in our beautifully adorned nave to sing
praises to God for raising Jesus Christ from the dead and for giving
us resurrected life with him. The flowers, the hymnody, the Easter
baskets, brightly colored eggs, and finery of this day all speak of
joy.
The joy that we share today is a very particular kind of joy- it is an
informed joy, the joy that springs forth from the soil of suffering,
grief and despair. The disciples at the empty tomb were the same
disciples who had witnessed all that had happened to their beloved
Teacher and friend in the week that preceded his resurrection.
They had seen him, and to some extent, participated in, whether
actively or passively, all that had happened to him. They saw him
betrayed, mocked, scorned and crucified. It was a horrible and
unforgettable week, and they were no doubt, sick with grief,
replaying the scenes over and over in their minds. The events of
the past week had overtaken the three years that they had spent
with Jesus as they travelled the countryside with him, listening to
him for hours as he preached and taught, as he healed the sick and
proclaimed good news to the poor. The disciples knew that were
part of something EXCITING and WONDERFUL when they were
with Jesus. They knew that they were part of the new thing that
GOD was doing when they were with Jesus. They knew that their
lives had purpose and meaning when they were with Jesus. But
they had forgotten that Jesus had also taught them that he would
suffer and die. And they had forgotten that he had taught them that
death would not have the final word.
So it is easy to see why Peter and the beloved disciple (probably
John) and Mary Magdalene responded to the empty tomb the way
they did, each in their own way and in their own time. Processing
resurrection takes time. John, the one that Jesus felt especially
close to, stood at the threshold, barely sticking his head in at first,
tentative and unsure. Peter- impetuous Peter, immediately ran in,
looked around and saw that the burial clothes were there and
Jesus’ body was gone. They saw but they did not comprehend.
Mary Magdalene wept, wept for Jesus, wept for herself, wept for all
of them. And all of them-Mary, Peter and John - thought that grave
robbers had taken Jesus’ body away, the final injury inflicted after
a long and tortuous week. “Is there no goodness in the world? Is
death and despair all there is?” they wondered.
This past week, I had the profound privilege of walking alongside
hundreds of Episcopal Christians in a public Stations of the Cross in
downtown Washington. We walked along, remembering the path
that Jesus walked during the last week of his life on this earth. And
as we did so, we prayed for the victims of violence it its many
forms. And one of our companions along the way was David, a man
whose 20-year-old son was killed in a robbery many years ago. He
wore a button with a picture of his son, in his Navy uniform,
smiling with such hope and promise. He told me how Jamie had
served in the military for 3 years after graduating from high school
and was about to begin the engineering program at Virginia
Commonwealth University in Richmond. David was there, walking
the Way of the Cross, connecting his walk with Jesus’ walk. And as
we walked along together, his story unfolded. I was so moved by
his sharing during the walk and in emails since then, processing
the experience, that I asked if I could share his story with all of you
today, and he said, that if the journey that he and his wife had been
on could in any way help anyone, they would be grateful.
David said that over the course of the last 16 years, his journey has
been full of many potholes and sharp curves. The first year was
tough, the second was worse and the third not much better, yet
gradually the grief became more manageable. But RESURRECTION
took longer. RESURRECTION was not in his control. Easter came
suddenly and unexpectedly. EASTER came for him when GOD acted
in a most surprising way, brining new life out of death.
David and his wife were on a trip to Canterbury Cathedral with the
choir from Saint Stephen’s Episcopal Church in Richmond. They
were looking forward to getting away, 3 years after their loss, in
more ways than one. And one night while they were walking
through the peaceful darkness of that great, ancient cathedral, that
place where people throughout the ages have prayed, they saw
candles flickering and a little sign inviting people to light a candle
and pray for people in prison. And he passed it by. Ever since that
horrible night when they had gotten that phone call that changed
their lives forever, he had not been able to think about two very
particular prisoners with anything but disgust. But somehow, after
seeing that little sign and intentionally walking past it, he found
himself inexplicably turning back and kneeling at the rail. He
didn’t any have the intention of praying for prisoners, but suddenly
his mind was filled with the images of the men at their trial and his
intense negative emotions, somehow- beyond anything he
intended- began to be transformed. A prayer formed in the deep
recesses of his heart, “God, I don’t know what I want for these two,
but I commend into your care these men who killed our son.” He
spoke their names with intention together with his son’s name.
And as he and his wife got up and continued walking along in that
great cathedral, noticing the centuries of wear from pilgrims’ feet,
he began to feel something. It was physical. He described it as a
heavy slab of concrete being lifted from his body. It took him a
while to realize what was beginning to happen. As the next few
days unfolded, he saw that his bitterness and inability to forgive
had been a heavy weight that he carried around every day. The
experience in Canterbury Cathedral was a major turning point in
his life, a time that he KNEW the power of Christ’s resurrection. It’s
a mystery to me, he said. “All I know is that what happened to me
on that night in December of 2000 was a gift…I have come to
experience forgiveness, among other things, as not letting what
someone has done to one I love have ultimate control over me.in
spite of the fact that what they did was evil.”
What happened to Jesus on Good Friday was evil, death at the
hands of sinners. Mary Magdalene came to the tomb- while it was
still dark- to grieve for all that had happened. She came expecting
confirmation of what she had witnessed 3 days earlier, but what
she received was far beyond what she could ever hope or imagine.
What she received was pure gift.
We can’t always give ourselves what we need. Our families can’t
always give us what we need. Our closest friends can’t always give
us what we need. That is why we come together in Christian
community. That is why we gather, week after week, Sunday after
Sunday after Sunday. We come together in this sacred space, like
the disciples at the empty tomb, and God acts, bringing life and
hope and meaning beyond all imagining. And when God acts,
bringing new life out of death, we know the meaning of the
resurrection and we see our story reflected in the story of the first
Easter morning.
God did something once and for all in raising Christ from the dead.
And God continues to bring us new life.
The joy we share today comes from a very deep place, that place
where God transforms suffering and death into new life. Our joy is
an informed joy, a passionate joy, a Resurrection joy. It’s the kind
of joy that gives our lives ultimate meaning.