Easter 27 March, 2016

Take some time to think of a good story.                                                                                                   
think of a story you like to hear,    a story you like to tell,    a story with real meaning for you –  
with depth, something that really speaks to you.   Maybe you just heard it recently and that’s why it’s still in your mind.    Maybe it’s a story you heard long ago,   a story you’ve liked for a while...   and it’s still percolating in there.         

Maybe you heard it as a kid.  Maybe you heard this story million times as a kid, one your parents told you, or another relative told you.   Maybe it’s one of those stories that used to irritate you.  One of those stories an uncle or a parent would say – something about the “old days”, a story about a family vacation, or about one of the ancestors from the old country maybe.    And maybe back then, you used to groan – “Oh no, not this story again!”  But now maybe you’d love to hear it told again… by the same person…  just one more time.    

But these same stories, come back to us over time, as we grow, as we learn, as we experience life more.   They assert themselves into our memories, lifting the corners of our awareness, making their presences known, especially when the tellers are no longer with us.  

Maybe your favorite story isn’t really one particular story so much as a theme… like the theme of “Healing” maybe.      Maybe the “story” has to do with someone healing of life’s injuries through learning about love in another way.   Maybe it’s a story about healing through being open to some new understanding. Maybe it’s about a new way of living – more whole, more together.   Maybe we learn healing really is about integrity… about bringing all the broken pieces of life back together again, of integrating them into our living mosaic.         

Maybe, like me, your favorite story is a movie.   I’m a product of my culture – and my culture tells stories on the big screen;   from the giant Hollywood epics to the small indie flicks, there’s some really good stories out there.   I can think of some good stories, some good movie lines – from one of my favorite movie stories – the Legend of Bagger Vance.  Ostensibly it’s about golf… but dig a little bit, and it’s really not about golf at all:  

Bagger Vance speaking to Junuh: “Put your eyes on Bobby Jones. Look at his practice swing, almost like he's searchin for something. Then he finds it. Watch how he settle hisself right into the middle of it. Feel that focus. He got a lot of shots he could choose from... Duffs and tops and skulls. There's only ONE shot that's in perfect harmony with the field... ONE shot that's his authentic shot. And that shot is gonna choose him. There's a perfect shot out there tryin' to find each and every one of us. All we got to do is get ourselves out of its way – to let it choose us. You can't see that flag as some dragon you gotta slay. You gotta look with soft eyes, see the place where the tides and the seasons and the turnin' of the Earth, all come together. Where everything that is becomes one. You got to seek that place with your soul Junuh... seek it with your hands. Don't think about it – Feel it. Your hands is wiser than your head ever gonna be. Now I can't take you there Junuh, just hope I can help you find a way... just you... that ball... that flag... and all you are...”

Maybe your favorite story is really a memory – one of those memories that still impacts you long after the event is over.   A memory that asserts itself once in a while, when you need the reassurance, the help, the gift that memory brings to you.   

Moments, memories, stories… all those “yesterdays” brought together into our “today”… inspiring the best in us for “tomorrow”. 

My children, each in their own time, as little kids, would ask me… “Daddy, tell me a story”.    By now, they’ve heard a few stories.   Now, when they ask, it’s usually for a particular one, “tell me about the time you…”    or   “…The time when… “.       

We humans are story-tellers… always have been.    I bet our ancient ancestors used to tell their more important stories around the evening campfires.      Have you ever been around a camp-fire?    When the dark encircles you, and a still-ness settles around you, and conversation slowly moves from the more frivolous and mundane…  slowly…  to the more important things in life…   the more sacred…   ancient…    like someone’s guiding the experience.    Then it’s time.  Then it’s time for the “real stories” to be told.           

Tell me a story.

As a culture, we still tell stories to ourselves.    We still have the same themes that come up again and again, as they did around those primordial campfires our ancestors sat around.   We still have our “story-tellers”.    Today, our main “stories” are often told in printed form, digital form, on the big screen and little screen.  

But our Easter story is still a story… a “big human story”.    It’s just a portion of one at least,  one that still needs to be told…  over and over again.   It needs to be told again and again, because we humans tend to forget.   We can get too caught up in our stuff sometimes… so stories like this help us remember.    This is one of those stories that needs to be told around a camp fire… in the sacred quiet of the night… a story about life and death.    Life and death, certainly.     But more than just “life” and more than just “death”.    Life and its meaning….    And death…  and its meaning.     

But more than just the meaning of life and death.   This story also tells us about God – and what it means to be truly – deeply – completely…   sacredly…   human!     And how God sits right in the middle of that story of our humanness.   

It’s just a section of story that we tell…    a portion that fits into a bigger narrative.   There’s much more to this one.   But still, it’s not a bad one to tell.    We tell this story every year at this time – usually with the same words.    

“They went to the tomb, but they found it empty!”      “He isn’t here…  he’s  risen!” 

Used to be, I’d come to Easter like everyone else.   I’d come and hear the story, like everyone else.   Really, more interested in the lunch afterward… like everyone else.    But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to appreciate the story of an empty tomb.   I don’t mean this just as a connection to a growing appreciation of my own mortality, but more, an also growing appreciation for what an empty tomb means at a human level!            

I can talk theology.  I used to really enjoy it too.    I remember how excited I was when I got to seminary.   I was eager to be able to talk about heady theological concepts, using heady theological terms.   I spent time unpacking various thoughts and ideas about church doctrine, and church theology, and our understanding of God, and life.     

But as the years passed, I was less and less drawn to talk about heady theological doctrines and concepts just for the sake of engaging in theological discussion…  and more and more drawn to what all those words mean where human beings actually live. 

So we tell the Easter story!    We tell a story of resurrection.   

Remember I asked you to think of a story…   do any of you have a story of resurrection?     Folks, I have many stories of resurrection.    I believe in this story!     I believe in what this story has to say, because I believe in resurrection!    I believe in resurrection because I’ve seen too much, heard too many stories   –   about times when death was locking itself around someone, maybe not literal death, but figurative death, death of a relationship, of an opportunity long hoped for,     of a situation that went bad – destructive maybe.

I believe in resurrection, not in some theologically removed way, but in stories of addicts that get a grip on their addictions.     I believe in resurrection, not in some theologically removed way, like when it’s just in a “story”, but seeing it in the lives of people who continue to live after the death of a loved one, a relationship.   And not just survive, but, with the support of family and friends… and a living God…  to live abundantly again!     

When someone contemplates suicide in the darkest part of the struggle with depression… and they push themselves away from the edge, or just people engaging in the overall daily struggles… and getting  a grip on life again, and slowly feeling the roots of life take hold of their loose soil…   I believe in resurrection!       In the name of a Living God… I do believe in this story of resurrection!    

Resurrection is one of those stories we humans tell each other…  around the campfires of our lives…   We talk about what life was like in the dark… and we rejoice about the dawning of a new day!   We rejoice!

 Let the story of Jesus remind you again… that resurrection really IS a thing!   It is SO a thing with us humans – with our history – in our history – that it not only shows up in our stories, but in our lives.  

Over and over and over again.  

So, tell this resurrection story… and your resurrection story!    Tell it.     Today.   Tomorrow.    And know it really is our human story.     It’s a part of the story of our ancestors, part of the story of the people we know and love, part of each of our stories!    

“They went to the tomb, but they found it empty!”      “He isn’t here…  he’s  risen!”

He rises every day!   In our literal mornings – there in the sun, the real sun…   and in the figurative mornings of our lives – when we feel the warming sun of God’s touch… and the primordial darkness skulking away from our lives.        

What is this story about    –   This story I’m telling?        It’s about you…  and God… the living God.    It’s about your lives…   who you came from…     and where you are now…  

So, let’s tell the story – the whole story.       Here’s just a part of it:       “They went to the tomb, but they found it empty!”      “He isn’t here…    he’s  risen!”      

Happy Easter!