April 21, 2019
John 20:1-8
Those of you here last Sunday heard me share that I was going to spend a little time at Pennybyrn during Holy Week. Specifically, I had been invited to lead a group of residents in a Holy Week devotion of my choosing. This all began after, Ms. Bobbie Brown, a Pennybyrn resident, joined us for worship one Sunday many, many months ago. Now I’ve known Ms. Brown since my family’s days at First Baptist Church in Greensboro, and I was honored to discover that after worshiping with us, she gave my name and information to the activities Director at Pennybyrn in hopes that the next time she was planning a week of devotions I would be included.
So, this past Tuesday I stood in front of thirty-some residents and guests leading a devotion at Pennybyrn. As that Tuesday approached, I spent some mental time wondering what the focus of my devotion should be. Sure, it would be about Holy Week, but what specifically, I wondered, would I want to share with this group. I thought, I must talk about death, but how exactly was I supposed to talk about death with this group? Maybe I could have done like so many and jumped straight to new life… straight to the resurrection without even a mention of death. I wondered if that might be more palatable, for me and for them.
However, by early Monday afternoon I still didn’t have anything specific so I reached out to a friend of mine and asked if he had any good Holy Week devotions he could send me. You know, something I could take a look at and use as a “Go-By” in putting my thing together. When he reached back to me, he shared a couple of stories, or parables, he had used over the years. Ones with which he had found great success. Like all of his ideas, I liked them, but neither idea felt right to me. Maybe it was because both of his ideas centered on the beauty that comes from new life, and while the beauty of new life is unmistakably true, that beauty doesn’t actually come until later in the Easter story.
Then on Monday evening I came across an idea that just felt right… an idea that if presented correctly would invite those present, including myself, to experience Holy Week, not just talk about its historical meaning. For me, experiencing something is far better than sitting in the stands observing. For me, experiencing is critical to transformation.
When Tuesday morning came around, I put the finishing touches on my presentation, gathered everything I needed (probably more than I actually needed) and headed over to Pennybyrn. Now, I admit I was a bit nervous, but only because I wasn’t sure what this group would think when I started talking about death and burial. The fact of the matter is, no speaker every knows beforehand how their audience will process the information being offered, but death and burial seem to be hard topics to talk about with anyone. Yet, this idea I came across required me to speak about death and burial because this idea was about the Sacred Rhythm of Holy Week. Yes, resurrection and new life are part of this Sacred Rhythm, but in order to experience that new life, two things must come before… DEATH and BURIAL.
Very quickly after I started speaking, I had this uneasy feeling that my words were not landing how I wanted. Maybe I was talking too fast, or not explaining the Sacred Rhythm of Holy Week in easily understandable ways, but I just had this sense that something wasn’t right. When I was speaking about the way far too many of us like to jump straight to Easter instead of honoring this Sacred Rhythm that requires death and burial, I said, the only way anything, the only way any of us, get to experience new life, is to first experience death. As soon as those words came out my mouth, I heard someone to my right mumble something. I immediately turned, looked directly at the woman I believed made those mumbling sounds, and asked her to repeat what she said. I kindly told her I wasn’t able to understand what she had just said and wanted to know if she could say it again. No sooner had I asked than she, with a bold and excited voice, said “My husband died.” That’s when I thought, “good job Jason, you just called on her to share something she may not actually want to share.” But then she continued, “my husband died once and came back to life.” She told everyone there this beautiful story about how her husband, at the age of fifty-four, had died on the operating table. She told us that while he was dead, he saw his brother who had died before him and how they had a conversation. That conversation ended when his brother said, “don’t take one more step. It’s not your time but if you take one more step toward me you will not be able to go back, and you need to go back.” So, go back he did and by going back he found new life. By going back this lady’s husband experienced something we crave, he experienced resurrection, and his wife was clearly thankful. Her thankfulness came through in her sharing that story, but something else struck me about her sharing… her excitement. She was so excited to share this resurrection story with me that day, and if we had more time, I bet she could have told me every detail. If I had more time maybe she would have told me about the time of darkness that came before the resurrection experience.
*****************************
Her excitement, though, lifted my spirits in ways I had not expected. After all I was there to talk about death and burial, and rightly so I think. She, though, helped take us out of that place of bewilderment and into an excited and joyful place, but I am certain there is a part of her story that happened before the part she shared. This other part I am certain about is the part in the darkness. The part in the uncertainty. The part in the sorrow. And if we listened closely when Jewell Miller read earlier, then we know, this other part is exactly where Easter begins.
It seems we too often forget that little tidbit, but the reality is, v. 1 “Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark…” is where Easter begins, and that place of beginning is so important. Try as we may to discard the darkness and uncertainty, the true authentic story of resurrection won’t let us, because resurrection knows better than us, that the only way to experience her is to begin in darkness.
Darkness is where Mary Magdalene began her Easter story. Darkness is where Simon Peter and the other Disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, began their Easter stories. Like all human beings, they each responded to the scene unfolding in the darkness in different ways. “One sees the grave clothes neatly folded and believes. One sees the same thing and there is no indication that he believes anything. One is surprised into believing by hearing the sound of her name.”[1] There is an incredible amount of reassurance, I believe, in knowing that each of them responded so uniquely. Knowing they responded in such different ways means there is no one, correct way of responding. There is room for all of these responses and most likely there is room for even more. The truth, though, is that throughout our own lives we can find ourselves in the way these three responded, and that is reassuring.
Responding to the darkness, though, is not the same as being overtaken by it, and none of them were overtaken by it. That is the promise of resurrection… That is the promise of Easter. Darkness, uncertainty, sorrow never tell the whole story and this simple fact should be a source of hope for all of us. For those who have already experienced resurrection this simple fact can serve as a reminder about where resurrection really began. For those still in the darkness, this simple fact lets you know that resurrection is coming. Resurrection has been promised and there is great comfort in that promise.
You see, even though the story of Easter always begins in darkness, the beauty is it always ends in Resurrection. That part of the story is exciting. That part of the story is full of joy and that part of the story has been and forever will be promised to each and every one of us. Yes, it is true, that part of the story is a bit mysterious, but yet again this is an example of how mystery should not be avoided. It should be experienced.
*************************
I’m so thankful my friend at Pennybyrn shared the resurrection story of her husband. I’m so thankful her excitement and her joy came through when she shared it. That is the power of experiencing resurrection, yet I know there is so much more to the story. And because I know that, I am also thankful for these moving words my friend Dr. Diane Moffett wrote last night, “Today, on the eve of Easter, I pray that you will not rush into Easter Sunday and that you will take Saturday as a means of embracing the in-between time, the time of waiting, the time in which so much of our life is spent. And I pray that whatever needs to die in your life will [die]. And whatever needs to rise will [rise]. And that you will not grow weary in the in-between time but wait on God to reveal God’s glorious presence to you.”
This is why I believe to truly love the story of Easter; it must be fully embraced. And to fully embrace Easter, we must begin while it is still dark.
[PRAYER]
Amen!
[1] Lundblad, Barbara, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2807
John 20:1-8
Those of you here last Sunday heard me share that I was going to spend a little time at Pennybyrn during Holy Week. Specifically, I had been invited to lead a group of residents in a Holy Week devotion of my choosing. This all began after, Ms. Bobbie Brown, a Pennybyrn resident, joined us for worship one Sunday many, many months ago. Now I’ve known Ms. Brown since my family’s days at First Baptist Church in Greensboro, and I was honored to discover that after worshiping with us, she gave my name and information to the activities Director at Pennybyrn in hopes that the next time she was planning a week of devotions I would be included.
So, this past Tuesday I stood in front of thirty-some residents and guests leading a devotion at Pennybyrn. As that Tuesday approached, I spent some mental time wondering what the focus of my devotion should be. Sure, it would be about Holy Week, but what specifically, I wondered, would I want to share with this group. I thought, I must talk about death, but how exactly was I supposed to talk about death with this group? Maybe I could have done like so many and jumped straight to new life… straight to the resurrection without even a mention of death. I wondered if that might be more palatable, for me and for them.
However, by early Monday afternoon I still didn’t have anything specific so I reached out to a friend of mine and asked if he had any good Holy Week devotions he could send me. You know, something I could take a look at and use as a “Go-By” in putting my thing together. When he reached back to me, he shared a couple of stories, or parables, he had used over the years. Ones with which he had found great success. Like all of his ideas, I liked them, but neither idea felt right to me. Maybe it was because both of his ideas centered on the beauty that comes from new life, and while the beauty of new life is unmistakably true, that beauty doesn’t actually come until later in the Easter story.
Then on Monday evening I came across an idea that just felt right… an idea that if presented correctly would invite those present, including myself, to experience Holy Week, not just talk about its historical meaning. For me, experiencing something is far better than sitting in the stands observing. For me, experiencing is critical to transformation.
When Tuesday morning came around, I put the finishing touches on my presentation, gathered everything I needed (probably more than I actually needed) and headed over to Pennybyrn. Now, I admit I was a bit nervous, but only because I wasn’t sure what this group would think when I started talking about death and burial. The fact of the matter is, no speaker every knows beforehand how their audience will process the information being offered, but death and burial seem to be hard topics to talk about with anyone. Yet, this idea I came across required me to speak about death and burial because this idea was about the Sacred Rhythm of Holy Week. Yes, resurrection and new life are part of this Sacred Rhythm, but in order to experience that new life, two things must come before… DEATH and BURIAL.
Very quickly after I started speaking, I had this uneasy feeling that my words were not landing how I wanted. Maybe I was talking too fast, or not explaining the Sacred Rhythm of Holy Week in easily understandable ways, but I just had this sense that something wasn’t right. When I was speaking about the way far too many of us like to jump straight to Easter instead of honoring this Sacred Rhythm that requires death and burial, I said, the only way anything, the only way any of us, get to experience new life, is to first experience death. As soon as those words came out my mouth, I heard someone to my right mumble something. I immediately turned, looked directly at the woman I believed made those mumbling sounds, and asked her to repeat what she said. I kindly told her I wasn’t able to understand what she had just said and wanted to know if she could say it again. No sooner had I asked than she, with a bold and excited voice, said “My husband died.” That’s when I thought, “good job Jason, you just called on her to share something she may not actually want to share.” But then she continued, “my husband died once and came back to life.” She told everyone there this beautiful story about how her husband, at the age of fifty-four, had died on the operating table. She told us that while he was dead, he saw his brother who had died before him and how they had a conversation. That conversation ended when his brother said, “don’t take one more step. It’s not your time but if you take one more step toward me you will not be able to go back, and you need to go back.” So, go back he did and by going back he found new life. By going back this lady’s husband experienced something we crave, he experienced resurrection, and his wife was clearly thankful. Her thankfulness came through in her sharing that story, but something else struck me about her sharing… her excitement. She was so excited to share this resurrection story with me that day, and if we had more time, I bet she could have told me every detail. If I had more time maybe she would have told me about the time of darkness that came before the resurrection experience.
*****************************
Her excitement, though, lifted my spirits in ways I had not expected. After all I was there to talk about death and burial, and rightly so I think. She, though, helped take us out of that place of bewilderment and into an excited and joyful place, but I am certain there is a part of her story that happened before the part she shared. This other part I am certain about is the part in the darkness. The part in the uncertainty. The part in the sorrow. And if we listened closely when Jewell Miller read earlier, then we know, this other part is exactly where Easter begins.
It seems we too often forget that little tidbit, but the reality is, v. 1 “Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark…” is where Easter begins, and that place of beginning is so important. Try as we may to discard the darkness and uncertainty, the true authentic story of resurrection won’t let us, because resurrection knows better than us, that the only way to experience her is to begin in darkness.
Darkness is where Mary Magdalene began her Easter story. Darkness is where Simon Peter and the other Disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, began their Easter stories. Like all human beings, they each responded to the scene unfolding in the darkness in different ways. “One sees the grave clothes neatly folded and believes. One sees the same thing and there is no indication that he believes anything. One is surprised into believing by hearing the sound of her name.”[1] There is an incredible amount of reassurance, I believe, in knowing that each of them responded so uniquely. Knowing they responded in such different ways means there is no one, correct way of responding. There is room for all of these responses and most likely there is room for even more. The truth, though, is that throughout our own lives we can find ourselves in the way these three responded, and that is reassuring.
Responding to the darkness, though, is not the same as being overtaken by it, and none of them were overtaken by it. That is the promise of resurrection… That is the promise of Easter. Darkness, uncertainty, sorrow never tell the whole story and this simple fact should be a source of hope for all of us. For those who have already experienced resurrection this simple fact can serve as a reminder about where resurrection really began. For those still in the darkness, this simple fact lets you know that resurrection is coming. Resurrection has been promised and there is great comfort in that promise.
You see, even though the story of Easter always begins in darkness, the beauty is it always ends in Resurrection. That part of the story is exciting. That part of the story is full of joy and that part of the story has been and forever will be promised to each and every one of us. Yes, it is true, that part of the story is a bit mysterious, but yet again this is an example of how mystery should not be avoided. It should be experienced.
*************************
I’m so thankful my friend at Pennybyrn shared the resurrection story of her husband. I’m so thankful her excitement and her joy came through when she shared it. That is the power of experiencing resurrection, yet I know there is so much more to the story. And because I know that, I am also thankful for these moving words my friend Dr. Diane Moffett wrote last night, “Today, on the eve of Easter, I pray that you will not rush into Easter Sunday and that you will take Saturday as a means of embracing the in-between time, the time of waiting, the time in which so much of our life is spent. And I pray that whatever needs to die in your life will [die]. And whatever needs to rise will [rise]. And that you will not grow weary in the in-between time but wait on God to reveal God’s glorious presence to you.”
This is why I believe to truly love the story of Easter; it must be fully embraced. And to fully embrace Easter, we must begin while it is still dark.
[PRAYER]
Amen!
[1] Lundblad, Barbara, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2807
