Easter 2021: Acts 10: 34 – 43; John 20: 1 – 18
Let’s be clear, first of all, what didn’t happen that first Easter Day. Jesus was not resuscitated. He wasn’t brought back to life to carry on as he had been living before. Not at all. This is something quite different.
We know this is something different because we’ve already seen what you might call a resuscitation in St. John’s gospel – although it’s not a resuscitation in the sense we understand that word medically today, for this person was truly dead, but he came back, quite wonderfully, to life. But he came back to life as it had been for him before; to carry on as he had been living before, even facing a death threat in the process. I’m talking, as you might have guessed, about Lazarus, whom Jesus raised from the dead.
When Lazarus came out of the tomb, at Jesus’ command, he came out, as John says, ‘tied up, hand and foot with strips of linen, and his face was wrapped in a cloth’. And Jesus had to order him to be untied.
But when John and Peter ran to Jesus’ tomb is was not to find the past repeating itself. Peter goes into the tomb and sees the grave clothes still folded, not as if a body had been laboriously unwrapped outside, as with Lazarus, but as if someone had just passed right through them, right there in the tomb, and left them behind, just lying there. And when John himself goes into the tomb we are told that he saw and believed. He understood what he saw. He saw and believed.
He understood that something truly new has just begun. And what an astonishing shock it must have given him! He understood that Jesus had been raised from the dead. He understood that God, in an astonishing explosion of creative power, had raised Jesus’ cold, dead body to life. He has passed through the grave clothes; he has burst through the barrier of death. He has left his grave clothes behind him, because he has left the grave behind him, because he has left death itself behind him.
And that is what John believes. He doesn’t believe that Jesus has been resuscitated. He believes that he has been raised. He believes that he has begun an utterly new life. He believes that Jesus has stepped though death into a wholly new, completely new, quality of life: a quality of life that makes life lived up to that point seem shallow, pale and colourless by comparison. He believes, in other words, not in resuscitation: he believes in resurrection.
Resurrection is not a going back to what was before
Resurrection, then, is not a going back to what was before, but a going forward to what is new, to what God is bringing into being, to what God is bringing to new birth. And I want to suggest today that we so much need the resurrection power of our God, and the resurrection life of Jesus Christ, in so many areas of our life. We need that power in the way we live together, in society, both locally and globally; we need that power in the life of the Church; and we need that power too in the life of each one of us.
How might we see the resurrection power of Jesus Christ in the way we live together, both locally and globally? A key question for us is what life after the pandemic will be like. And I want to say with all my heart that I do not believe we must talk about things going back to normal. It was not normal that we were living unsustainably on this earth, feeding climate change, pursuing ever greater economic growth, as if the earth’s resources were inexhaustible and expendable.
Nor is it normal that in the world today power and wealth lie in the hands of an increasing few; that the rule of law is so often flouted; that strong men (and they are all men) flex their muscles with impunity; that so many minorities are under threat; that religious freedom is so often denied. None of that is normal and nor should we accept it as such.
The pandemic humbled us and brought us up short
Think back to last spring – even in the midst of the pandemic we saw nature stepping back into its proper place and the world burst into life around us. The pandemic humbled us and brought us up short. We were taught to sit still and step back. It’s a key lesson for all humanity. We must learn to live more lightly and lovingly on this earth. And to do so would be a true sign of resurrection life. And it is resurrection we need: going forward to something better; not resuscitation that takes us back to where we were before.
And what would resurrection life look like in the life of the Church? Again, I don’t think we can simply say we will go back to what was before. Of course there’s much we’ve missed: the sheer physicality of taking both bread and wine; the joy of singing. There’s much we will welcome back. But we mustn’t simply go back. We have learnt so much in this last year, not least about how we can better love and serve our communities, as well as all the creativity we’ve shown in going online. I hope that in the future we might sit a little more lightly to things we have perhaps held a little too dear: a bit like Mary in the garden wanting to cling on to Jesus as if she’s not recognised that something truly new is going on.
But above all else, as the Church of God, we must ensure that the life of Jesus, his risen, resurrection, presence, is made manifest amongst us. We are the Body of Christ, we say, and so we are always in one sense. But equally the extent to which the presence of Christ is known in the Church is the extent to which we are open to him; the extent to which we are dependent on him; and the extent to which we are asking him to make his presence known in us and through us. This world so much needs to meet the risen Christ, and it in the Church of Christ that he ought most surely to be met. So it is resurrection we need in the Church of God: resurrection that takes us forward to something better; not resuscitation that takes us back to where we were before.
And how might we see the resurrection life of Jesus at work in each one of us? Think of Mary, desolate in the garden: until Jesus simply says, ‘Mary’. When he calls her by name, everything changes, something wholly new begins. Jesus touches her heart and he changes her life. He calls her by name, he knows her, and he loves her, and her grief and sorrow are turned to wonder, amazement and joy. Through this meeting she experiences resurrection life not only in him, but in herself as well.
And through the resurrection of Jesus a wholly new relationship becomes possible. Up to now Jesus has called God, the father or my father. Up to now Jesus has called those close to him his disciples, or servants, or friends even. But now through the resurrection everything has changed, and a whole new relationship with the Father becomes possible. What is it he says to Mary? Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’ He could hardly make the point more clearly. ‘My father is your Father. My God is your God.’ Through the resurrection the disciples are welcomed into a whole new world where they can know God in just the way Jesus knows him: where they can be intimate children of their father, enjoying just the same intimacy Jesus enjoys with him. Nothing less than that.
This is resurrection which takes us on to something wholly new
But this is not just something historical. This is for now; this is for us all; and this is for ever. This is not resuscitation that takes us backwards to what was before. This is resurrection which takes us on to something wholly new: something new for human society, for the church of God, and for each of us, just as it was for Mary. Here and now, just as with Mary, Jesus knows us, and he loves us and he calls us each by name. And we only have to answer him to find, like Mary, that our own griefs and sorrows, including the many griefs of the last year, are turned to wonder, amazement and joy; to find that we are beloved children of our Father. We only have to answer him to find, like Mary, that this day can be for us too the day of resurrection. In love, today, Jesus Christ, the risen one, calls this world, calls his Church, and call us each and every one, by name. Here and now, may we hear him, and hearing him, may we answer and know that nothing will ever be the same again. Amen.