Four Poems for Holy Week and Easter

4. “If I Should Die…”

Matthew 28:1-10

Luke 15:11-24

First Presbyterian Church of Jamestown , New York

The Reverend Thomas A. Sweet

March 23, 2008

Easter Day

 

Text:  “…for this son of mine was dead and is alive again…”    Luke 15:24a

 

Text:  “…he rose again from the dead…”    The Apostles’ Creed

 

Text:  the scripture of our own life’s experience

Return to the Sermons and Articles Page

Return to the Sermon Archives Page

Return to the 2008 Holy Week Page

(Note to web readers:  For our Midweek Preaching Series for Lent this year, I asked five poet-preachers, two clergy and three non-clergy, to compose an original poem, present it, and offer preaching reflections on it.  The series exceeded even my lofty expectations, and those poems and sermons are available on our church’s website – www.firstpresjamestown.com – by clicking the “sermons and articles” link.  Buoyed by that series, I suggested to our staff that we base our Holy Week and Easter worship on a similar theme: “Four Poems for Holy Week and Easter.”  The poems and sermons for Palm/Passion Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and now, this poem and sermon for Easter, also are posted on our website.  –TAS)

 

 

One of the saddest and most diabolical distortions of religion occurs whenever it is used to distract us from living lovingly, justly, and faithfully in this life.  Religion that redirects our focus from this life to some other life after this one has little in common, it seems to me, with the religion of Jesus.  Easter is not primarily about transport from this life into another one just as eternal life is not about living forever, but living deeply in the present moment.  Eternal life, properly understood, is not an expression of infinite time.  It is about living our lives now in such a way that their effects for good radiate outward forever. 

 

About what happens to us when we die at the end of our days on earth I do not have much to say today because I do not know.  No one does.  A lot of preachers say they know, but they are not at that point telling the truth.  No one knows.  That is why I simply trust God with my life and my death and my loved ones.  I trust God.  Period.  Scripture says that nothing can separate us from the love of God, not even death, and that is good enough for me.

 

Meanwhile, resurrection is for the living.  I am utterly convinced of that.  The Bible has almost nothing to say about what happens to us after this life because its writers did not know either.  Rather, through the stories of our mothers and father in the faith, it tells of our human encounters with God, our engagements with the sacred, our experiences with the divine in this life.  It exhorts us to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly in this life.  It encourages us to live toward and into our true and full humanity in this life.  So it is a wonderment to me how and why so many parts of the church go to such great lengths to teach us to concern ourselves with heaven when Jesus was so deeply interested in earth. 

 

Resurrection is a gift of God imprinted on and throughout this life, not something appended to it at the end of it.  The gospel stories of the resurrection of Jesus are meant to signify God’s “yes” to the life Jesus lived and the gospel Jesus preached, both of which implore us above all else to love.  “Faith, hope, and love abide, these three…and the greatest of these is love.”  But, to love is costly.  It sometimes seems as if it asks everything of us, everything we have to give, and there are no guarantees.  Love often bids us to come and die, if not literally, then surely emotionally and sometimes spiritually, as I suggest in my Easter poem called

 

     Resurrection

 

                     Sometimes we give our hearts to something or someone

                     and then it or they are gone.

                     Loving deeply,

                     the letting go is wrenching,

                     a searing, scarring agony entombing us

                     until one day,

                     amid or after the weeping and wasting,

                     we are set free:

                     alive again.

                                    (TAS – Easter 2008)

 

 

How must the prodigal’s father have felt when his son whom he had so long and deeply loved announced his defection from the family, demanding his take of the family fortune, and riding away with no plans to return?  How is it for us when our own children stray, or make ruinous decisions, or even take their leave of us in the normal way of things?

 

Sometimes we give our hearts to something or someone

and then it or they are gone.

Loving deeply,

the letting go is wrenching,

a searing, scarring agony entombing us…

 

How does it feel to stand astride our husband’s open grave, or our wife’s, as the body of this person we have cherished and touched and with whom we have shared the intimacies and intricacies of daily living perhaps for decades is lowered into it…or maybe it is our child to whom we must too soon say good bye…or a parent who has been for us through all our years just a little less than God…or a sister, brother…

 

Sometimes we give our hearts to something or someone

and then it or they are gone.

Loving deeply,

the letting go is wrenching,

a searing, scarring agony entombing us…

 

How does it feel to be the one to have to liquidate the family business that had been passed through the generations or to draw down the curtain on a dearly-held dream?  How is it to get the news that your spouse in a marriage you thought would be forever is leaving you or to find that a friend of many years to whom you have been utterly faithful has betrayed you?  What does it feel like to watch the great mainline church tradition you joined long ago and in which you have been ordained, a church once robust in its social engagement and passion for peace, slouch toward irrelevance because it lacks the courage of its prophetic convictions and acquiesces to pietistic pablum and passivity?

 

Sometimes we give our hearts to something or someone

and then it or they are gone.

Loving deeply,

the letting go is wrenching,

a searing, scarring agony entombing us…

 

How does it feel to give your heart and soul to your company for years and years and then one day you are unceremoniously discarded like fish bones wrapped in an old newspaper?  How is it to have a stroke rob you of your speech but not your mind but no one solicits your opinions or comes after your expertise anymore?  How does it feel to set aside a great love in consideration of other commitments and circumstances?  How is it when arthritis gnarls your fingers and you no longer can sit at your beloved piano making your music? 

 

Sometimes we give our hearts to something or someone

and then it

or they are gone.

Loving deeply,

the letting go is wrenching,

a searing, scarring agony entombing us…

 

until one day,

amid or after the weeping and wasting,

we are set free:

alive again.

 

That is the incomparable gift of resurrection.  We suffer a thousand deaths along our life’s path.  And yet, time and again, by the grace and power of God’s Spirit who seems always to provide the ways and means just right for our needs, just right for our souls, we are raised from the dead to lay hold of life and living once more. 

 

People have asked me for as long as I can remember why, in the Apostles’ Creed, it says, “On the third day he (Jesus) rose again from the dead?”  The answer is that Jesus died many times before he was crucified on Calvary .  How many times was he despised and rejected by those he loved and tried to serve?  How many times did it seem as if he had reached a dead end?  How many times did he have to dust off his feet and move on?  Several times the scripture pictures Jesus weeping for people who could not or would not receive his ministry and take it to heart.  And while often he went off by himself to lick his wounds and to mourn his failures and dyings, always he was raised from his grief to engage life once again.

 

That, to me, is Easter and it is what the great stories of the resurrection of Jesus mean to me for my life in this world….that while love suffers its great losses in our lives and they may be heavy, horrific, and horrendous, they are never fatal, futile, or final.  For always the power of God is at work in us to bring us back to life in which we are enabled and ennobled to continue loving the world and one another.

 

                                   Sometimes we give our hearts to something or someone

                                   and then it or they are gone.

                                   Loving deeply,

                                   the letting go is wrenching,

                                   a searing, scarring agony entombing us

                                         until one day,

                                   amid or after the weeping and wasting,

                                   we are set free:

                                   alive again.

 

 Amen.

© Copyright 2008 First Presbyterian Church

Return to the Sermons and Articles Page

Return to the Sermon Archives Page

Return to the 2008 Holy Week Page