I’ve been
glued to the news this week. First there
was the Notre Dame Cathedral, then there was the election. Now there’s a flood in Ontario and an
explosion in Sri Lanka at churches. I am so not going to talk about the
election, so you can all take a big breath of relief. We’re going to have a sanctuary time free
from all the political debate this morning.
But then I
heard some truly dreadful news yesterday morning. On Thursday, as we were setting up for the
Maundy Thursday meal with Allendria, Jean Keefe told me about a cousin of hers,
a young man who was running for the Green Party in PEI. The whole family was excited because it
looked like he had a real chance to get in to the legislature, to be
elected. The news yesterday of a young
politician with the last name of Underhay having drowned with his son was stark
and tragic. And yes, it was Jean’s
relative whose story was in the news.
This gifted leader would never see his children grow up, to experience
political leadership in the province he dearly loved, and his son would also
never grow up.
It’s times
like these where we face the stark truth that life can be full of tragedy and
hurt. That the world is not like some
giant Disney movie where the good team always win the big game, and the people
who aren’t nice have their come-uppance.
Some days life is not fair. Some
days Good Friday and the cross weigh heavily on our hearts. Some days Easter feels like a daydream that
is too good to be true. Some days our
lives hurt.
The women coming
to the tomb that first morning were hurting.
They had lost more than a man, they had lost their wise leader, their
inspiration, their cheerleader, their healer.
They lost the one who had turned their lives upside down and gave them
hope that they could make a difference in the world.
They came in
grief and despair, doubt and resignation.
They came feeling the weight of life on their shoulders, determined to
do what was the tradition at the time, even though they were struggling with
their grief.
They came,
just as you come, with all their fears and worries and anxieties. They didn’t expect to have their lives turned
upside down. Maybe they were having a
moment like John Lennon must have had when he wrote his song 'God'. In it he lists everything that he doesn’t
believe in anymore, he doesn’t believe in magic, he doesn’t believe in I Ching,
the Bible, Tarot, Hitler, Jesus, Kennedy and so on. It’s a long list of things he doesn’t believe
in. That pattern doesn’t stop until he
gets to the only thing he can believe in, himself and Yoko Ono and their love
for each other.
That’s not
too far from what we do in our daily lives.
We live as if the only thing we believe in is ourselves and maybe a
special family member or two. We saw
this most starkly in some of the on-line debates between neighbors about the
election on Tuesday. The name calling,
the accusations, the glee in which people posted pictures of vandalism of NDP
and UCP election posters was shocking.
It seemed like insults and name calling was the order of the day with
people on all sides of the debate accusing each other of being blind, stupid, naive and listening to the wrong ‘false news’.
The conversation, as far as I can tell, has not gotten any politer. There is hurt on both sides, because neither
can understand how any rational human being could possibly have a
different opinion than they do. They don’t
believe in anything except their own thoughts.
And they only believe in a world that is as angry or as threatened as
they are.
Easter is a time of stories that get turned upside
down, of witnesses who claim that their fears have been transformed into joy,
that life holds no terrors for them any more.
They have
gone from grief-stricken women who are stammering in their confusion and excitement,
to eloquent speakers and workers of great deeds of compassion. They have gone from rough and tumble
fishermen who only knew how to work with their hands to men with a passion and
a story to tell. They have gone from
arrogant intellectuals who thought they knew everything there was to know about
scripture and God, and who would hunt down and persecute anyone who didn’t
think like them, to writing impassioned speeches about how they were wrong, and
this new radical community was changing the way the world worked. They went from terrified peasants and timid
religious scholars to bold challengers of injustice that wouldn’t let threats
of death stop them proclaiming and witnessing to the crazy story that Christ had
risen.
We are
invited to share our stories, our witness, of how our lives have been turned
upside down by the empty tomb and the good news of the resurrection. It may seem crazy, it may seem unrealistic,
but it still has a message we need to hear.
That all the cruelty that humans can throw at each other in the name of
politics or control, is still no match for the transformation when we humbly
approach the cross with open hearts and minds.
On this
Easter Earth Day, let us boldly proclaim that Jesus Christ has conquered all
fear, all hate, all prejudice and resentment.
Love conquers, and when we meet face to face with the Risen Christ, let
us be so emboldened that we too will run to be witnesses to a vision of life that
continues to turn the world upside down in glories and halleluiahs! Amen
