Sunday of the Resurrection ~ Easter Sunday
March 23, 2008
The Rev. James Richardson
Acts 10:34-43

Colossians 3:1-4

John 20: 1-18

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

In the last few days, I’ve been thinking about the sounds and symbols of Easter. Some of these sounds and symbols are very much imbedded in the fabric of the Church:

• the crackling of a small fire that we lit outside our front door last night;

• this Paschal Candle that Deacon Mary Louise carried down the aisle bringing light to end the long night of Lent;

• the bells and hymns and laughter and joy;

• the white garments the clergy wear this morning;

• the flowers around us;

• the communion of bread and wine we will share in a few moments.

Even the culture beyond the Church has symbols of Easter – the Easter bunny, painted eggs – especially the chocolate variety. And the spring fashion shows and garden shows, and in Berkeley: Spring Break. We even have decorated Easter trees in my neighborhood. And the hills are turning green.

Yet, before we make too much fun of all of that, there is something about these secular symbols that demonstrates that we instinctively understand Easter regardless whether we call ourselves “Christian” or are versed in the ways of Church.

Easter is deep inside all of us.

All of these symbols have everything to do with springtime and new life, new growth and renewal – everything to do with Easter.

If we look around, we see new life growing out of the decay of winter.

Deep down inside, I think we understand Easter.

Yet all of these sounds and symbols of Easter cannot contain Easter. There is something so huge, so awesome, so joyful about Easter that we keep finding new ways to explain and express it. We have built 2,000 years worth of Easter sounds and symbols and doctrines, and we keep building more.

But on that first Easter morning, there were no symbols and no Church doctrines – there was just an awesome silence.

What a contrast that must have been to the week that had come before.

Think back on the sounds of what we now call Holy Week – the restless crowd with their palms welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem; the sharp arguments among friends at the Last Supper; the soldiers marching into the garden to arrest Jesus; the anger and shouting among the disciples; the yelling among the crowd clamoring for Jesus’ death; the chilling words of Pilate’s verdict condemning Jesus to death; the agony on the cross and the cries of his followers; the ripping of the curtain in the temple, and, as the Gospel of Matthew tells us, the roar of spirits crashing out of their graves.

The noise must have been overwhelming.

And then there was silence and calm – and peace.

Early on the third day – Sunday – Mary Magdalene comes to the tomb of Jesus. It is still dark, and she aches to be there, so she goes before dawn.  When Mary gets there she sees that the stone covering the grave is gone, and she is alarmed, so she goes back to tell the others.

Two of them come with her, and they are mystified, so they leave. But Mary stays, and she weeps. Then the angels speak to her.

And then she sees someone else. At first she thinks it is the gardener.

It was the gardener, in a way. Who better than a gardener? When Mary realizes the gardener is Jesus standing before her, she runs to tell the other disciples.

At first, they do not quite understand, they are in a cloud of unknowing. Understanding comes later. The gardener, Jesus is about to come to them in closed rooms and on a road to a town named Emmaus, and he comes in a thousand other places.

The noise of death and chaos does not get the final word. Not that day and not today. The tomb is empty. No linen wrappings, and no symbol we can possibly devise, can contain this Risen Christ who is everywhere, all around us, filling us with the sounds of grace and new life and peace and forgiveness.

The Risen Christ speaks to us in a thousand ways everyday in our work and play, in our dreams, in our gardens. The Risen Christ speaks to us in our suffering and pain, in our questions, in our quietness, and in our love and joy with each other.

The question, of course, is whether we are listening. The challenge is how will we respond this Easter season, and in every other season. For those of you who may be new here at All Souls, please know that this is an open, accepting and caring community. We do not pretend to have all the answers, but this is a good place to bring your questions. So please come back.

And to those who have been here awhile, we have much to do. There are people to feed, both physically and spiritually. There is healing to bring to those who need it, and opportunities to bring justice into our community. The good news is that the living Christ is among us and will light our path in the days ahead and will fill our plate with abundance.

It is my Easter prayer that we will all have the ears and heart to hear the sounds of Easter, all around us, every single day, and to live with courage and strength to bring hope and healing into our world. And today, right here, is a good place to start.

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

AMEN