Behold, the Power of God: Faith, Hope and Love
1
Corinthians 13
Matthew
28
Easter. We all know the story. Whether we are cultural Christians or people
for whom following Christ is a living faith, the broad outlines of the
resurrection story are well known: crucified unto death, resurrected unto life.
Mary and her friends walk to the tomb, Peter and his friends do not. The guards
are at the tomb, but the body--Jesus' body--is not. The angel speaks, the women
believe, death is turned into life, sorrow is turned into joy, suffering turns
to service. We all know the Easter story in its broad outlines. But this
morning I would like us to look beyond the broad outlines to some particular
details, details recorded only by Matthew. These details are a part of Matthew's
message to us; they tell us something that is virtually self-evident and
completely obvious but which Matthew wants us to hear so badly he includes them
anyway.
The
first particular that Matthew includes that all the other gospel writers leave
out is the fact that there is a violent earthquake. This earthquake occurred
when an angel came down from heaven to move the stone away, and it was not the
first earthquake about which Matthew talks. Another earthquake had shaken the
ground on Friday just after Jesus had died. Not only was there an earthquake
when Jesus died, but Matthew tells us that during the last hours of his life
darkness covered the entire land. Perhaps this was a solar eclipse, perhaps it
was simply dark and menacing storm clouds. I do not know. Moving back to
Sunday, Matthew tells us that the angel's appearance was like lightning. Now, I
ask you, why is Matthew playing meteorologist in his account of Jesus death and
resurrection? What is Matthew trying to tell us with all of these details about
the weather?
In
a sense, Matthew is not only an early meteorologist, he is also the first
insurance adjuster. In the insurance industry, when lightning strikes your
house or when an earthquake levels it these things are called "acts of
God." It's amazing how religious the insurance industry can be: many
homeowner's policies have written in the fine print coverage for these and
other "acts of God." The point Matthew and the insurance industry are
making is simple: lightning and earthquakes and solar eclipses are not the work
of humankind. They go far beyond what we can do. All of these climatological
details are Matthew's way of making the point that Jesus' death is not
something brought about by the political maneuvering of the Pharisees and the
military might of the Romans brought. It was an act of God. Jesus' resurrection
is not a case that the reports of his demise were premature. It was an act of
God. Matthew's account of the resurrection calls us to attention with the
shout: Behold, the Power of God! Death is turned into Life. Sorrow is turned
into Joy. Suffering is turned into Service.
Matthew's
Easter message is one side of the great message that the high Christian holy
days have for us. Christmas and Easter are our high holy days. The message of
Christmas is "Behold, the Love of God," that God so loved the world
that he gave his only Son that whoever believes in him will not perish but have
eternal life. But the message of Easter is equally important: “Behold, the
Power of God.” These two messages go together and are, in fact, inseparable.
The message of Christmas – Behold, the Love of God – may tell us that God is
with us, but the message of Easter – behold, the Power of God – tells us that
his presence with us makes a difference for our lives. If all we had was
Christmas, then those images of God as a kindly grandfather with a long white
beard might be accurate, but unless God is as powerful as he is loving, then
all we really have in the Christian faith is that kindly grandpa. But Easter tells
us, and it is the message Matthew reinforces, that God is as powerful as he is
loving. God not only loves us, but he can do things in our lives that we cannot
do on our own. He can turn death into life. He can turn sorrow into joy. He can
turn suffering into service. Behold, the Power of God!
St.
Paul, in that passage we read today but which we usually hear at weddings, 1
Corinthians 13, points us toward three of the most essential and foundational
ways that God's power, displayed in Jesus' resurrection, is made real in our
lives: faith, hope and love. We do not have these things all by ourselves. They
are acts of God within us: faith, hope, and love. The Easter message says that
the power of God gives us these things.
When
something dies within us, and all we can see is our doubt, the power of God
gives us faith. As someone has said, "Where doubt sees the obstacles,
God's power gives us faith to see the way. Where doubt sees the darkest night,
God's power gives us faith to see the day. Where doubt dreads to take a step,
God's power gives us faith to soar on high. And where doubt questions, ‘Who
believes?’ God's power gives us faith to answer, 'I.'" It is sometimes a
funny thing how faith gets into us.
V Maybe we were ten years
old and trying to look cool, or at least disinterested, and we had a Sunday
School teacher who believed enough in God’s Word that she taught with vigor and
passion and her interest rubbed off on us, in spite of ourselves, and we opened
our heart just an inch...and God took a mile. And faith began.
V Maybe we were forty and
could not help but look at our life and keep asking, "Is this all there
is? There's got to be something more, doesn't there?" And even though we
were bringing our kids to church to get them some moral training, we heard a
Voice whisper to us, "Yes, there is something more," and we found God
igniting a small spark within our soul. And faith began.
V Maybe we were born into
faith and know faith the same way we know breathing; it's always been there and
it's simply something that is so much a part of us that we cannot help but do
it. Even here, or perhaps especially here, faith is not something we do but
something the power of God gives to us. And through our faith in Jesus Christ,
we know that we are forgiven and we are free. Death is turned into Life:
spiritually, physically, eternally. Behold, the Power of God.
Sometimes
rather than something dying within us, it is someone who dies around us. When
we are faced with this kind of death, and all we can see is our despair, the
power of God gives us hope. Nowhere is this seen more dramatically than at the
time of a funeral. In the Presbyterian tradition, we call a funeral "A
Witness to the Resurrection," so that we can put the two combatants, death
and resurrection, side by side. It is our way of making clear that the message
of Easter is not forgotten even in the midst of life's most difficult days;
indeed, the Easter message is what sustains us during these days. You see,
whether we are aware of it or not, there are always two preachers present at
every funeral, vying for the pulpit, vying for the hearts, minds, and souls of
all present. One preacher tells the truth. One preacher is a liar. I refer, of
course, to Death. Death is the preacher of evil's most convincing lie. Death
claims persuasively that the God who promised to be present turned out to be
absent, that the God who vowed to give and preserve life would not--or could
not--keep that promise, and that all talk of steadfast loving relationships and
enduring community is so much empty wind. When a person dies, Death plants a
victory banner in the dust and summons everyone to gather around and listen up.
And the sermon Death preaches goes something like this: "I, Death, am the
Lord of all time, and no matter who giveth, I taketh away. All time is
contained between the ticking of the clock and the beating of the heart, and
when the clock winds down and the heart stops, there is no more. Human life is
fragmented and aimless, and its sad and confused wanderings all end up here--in
loneliness, in defeat, in sorrow, at my feet." What makes Death's sermon
so compelling is that it has almost all of the evidence on its side. We look at
the casket, the empty chair at the table, the unraveled narratives of hope and
meaning, and we say to ourselves: "Death, here is your sting. Death, here
is your victory."
But
Easter wages mortal combat with Death. Death seeks to inflict us with despair,
but the power of God manifest in Easter seeds our soul with hope. Death
proclaims the lie, but Easter points us toward the angel's words, "He is
not here. He is risen...Come, see the place where he lay." Death tries to
convince us that life is fragmented and aimless, but the message of Easter
provides the only satisfactory explanation for why we're here and where we're
going. The final heartbeat for the Christian is not the mysterious conclusion
to a meaningless existence. It is, rather, the grand beginning to a life that
will never end. This is our faith. This is our hope. This is why we can proclaim,
even at the grave side of a loved one, "Where, 0 Death, is thy sting?
Where, 0 Death, is thy victory? ... Thanks be to God, for he gives us the
victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!" Behold, the Power of God.
Filled with faith, sustained by hope, God sends us out in his name, with his power, to love the world. The angel, after instilling hope into the women with the pronouncement that Jesus is risen, immediately sent them out into the world with the gospel: "Go," he said. Go quickly and tell his disciples this wonderful news about what has happened that can never be undone: Jesus is risen. It is never enough merely to receive the message of Christ for our own sake. Christ is made alive within us, then we are called to go, go quickly, and share Christ with others. God loves us. And then God sends us out to love the world. By the power of God we can accomplish this high and holy calling to love one another.
Jesus
said, "They will know you are Christians by your love." If we know
Christ, if we have experienced the risen Christ in our lives, if we know the
power of God that Easter proclaims, then we will love others. We will watch our
friend's kids. We will deliver food to our neighbors. We will sit for hours
with another waiting for news from the doctor. We will pray without ceasing. In
these and so many other ways, we will walk in the world with the power of God
helping us to love. The power of God to help us love can take so many
directions I cannot hope to list them all, so let me simply tell one story. It
is a story about Becky who is one of these Christians who know faith like they
know breathing: it's always been there and so much a part of her that she
cannot help but do it. Becky was four.
Becky
was born with birth defects and had already had several operations when she was
in the hospital recovering from yet another operation. An eight year old girl
was brought into the room. The older girl was scheduled for a serious surgery
and she was frightened. The older girl began to cry and soon became hysterical;
her parents couldn't calm her down. Becky sat quietly with a serious look on
her face. Then suddenly she smiled and whispered to her mom, "I know what
to do." Becky climbed off her mother's lap and walked slowly toward the
wailing girl. "Don't cry," she said softly while rubbing the girl's
cheek. "I was afraid too, but I'm not anymore." The older girl was
quietly crying as Becky continued to stroke her cheek. "Why aren't you
afraid now?" the older child asked between sobs. "Because I have
Jesus," Becky said. And then Becky raised both her hands to her heart and
held them like a cup, as if scooping water from a fountain to drink.
"Here," she said, "open your hands for me." The other girl
had stopped sobbing and was totally immersed in their conversation. Solemnly
the older girl reached out as Becky transferred her most treasured possession
into the cupped hands of her new friend, and then pressed her friend's hands to
her friend's heart. They will know we are Christians by our love. I daresay the
families in that room knew Becky was a Christian: she loved by combating fear
with Christ's hope, giving to the other girl the gift of faith by sharing
Christ the only way she knew how. Behold, the Power of God in Becky's life.
And behold the power of God in your life. The tomb is empty and Christ is risen. Whether we wanted him to or not, Jesus gave his life for us and now he is alive in the world and will not rest until he captures our hearts. Whether we are ten or forty, seventeen or seventy, God desires for us to live the Easter message, showing forth his power through our faith, hope and love. And Jesus will not rest in his search until we give ourselves over to his will wholly and completely. We cannot hide from him behind our willful rebellion and unbelief, for he will not stop seeking us. We cannot protest that our guilt and shame exclude us from him, for he will not cease forgiving us. We are not safe behind our pride and resistance, for he will keep loving us until those walls come crashing down. We are not protected by our comfort and ease, for he keeps showing us his nail scarred hands and feet. We cannot withdraw into selfishness, for he will keep meeting us in the poor and the sick and the dying. Our problem is no longer that we cannot find Christ, but rather than we cannot escape him. Our only real prospect is surrender. Surrender to the power of God. But, of course, this is a joyful surrender for it is surrender to Jesus Christ.