Sermon

April 3, 2005

 

A Sermon Preached at St. Stephen’s on April 3, 2005, by the Rev. Cork Tarplee

            This is a sermon about the inconvenience of Resurrection—and by extension about the inconvenience of all that Christians believe.  In Flannery O’Connor’s disturbing short story, “A Good Man is Hard to Find,” a warped and depraved serial killer pauses in the midst of a heinous crime to comment, “If Jesus has been raised from the dead, he shouldn’t have.  He done thrown everything out of kilter.  He should have stayed dead.”  The disturbing thing about this comment is that it is so true. The expected thing in life is the finality of loss and death. The expected thing is the ultimate triumph of selfishness and greed.  The Resurrection throws everything out of kilter.

            Observe Thomas, the Twin.  On the first day when the risen Christ stops by, Thomas is absent from the upper room where Jesus’ friends are hiding out after the Crucifixion. When Thomas rejoins them, they tell him that they have seen Christ risen from the dead, but he refuses to believe them until he sees for himself. I, for one, have real sympathy for Thomas. It would change everything if he were to believe in the Resurrection. Grieving for a lost friend is not pleasant, but it is predictable. It is painful at first, but gradually the old relationship fades to a memory and there is an element of relief in it.  Let’s face it, alive Jesus was a demanding friend—always asking his friends to rise to new occasions, always asking them to welcome some outcast, always asking them to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, tend to those who are sick and in prison. If Jesus were to be alive again in a whole new way—alive forever—the demands would never end.

            It is the same inconvenience encountered by an acquaintance.  To her great surprise, one day she went for the usual series of tests and was told that she appeared to be cancer free.  This was a shock because she had been told earlier in her treatment that her form of cancer was generally incurable and that she had, at most, a year to live. “That’s wonderful news!” said her friends. “I suppose,” the woman replied, “but it is also hard to take.  I’ve been planning to die for months now. Have made my peace with it; have my affairs in order.  Now I find I’ve probably got years to live and I have to figure out what to do with them.”

            Resurrection throws everything out of kilter. It changes how you live.  It suggests that there may be some value in suffering.  It suggests that we might be worth more and have more potential than we think we have. It suggests that God really has a place in the kingdom for the outcasts and that there can some day be a place in our hearts for them.  It suggests that there is a cosmic value in our generosity, a deep and unending call to give our resources away for the good of others.  It suggests that tending the sick and visiting those in prison is not wasted effort. Resurrection—if you let yourself accept it—changes everything.

            As inconvenient as it may be, the fact of the matter is that this room is filled with people who—like it or not—recognize the truth of the Resurrection.  Most of us recognize it because we have seen it happen in one way or another.  Typical of the things people say in this company is: “I’ve lived the Resurrection.  When my husband walked out on me, I could have died.  Did die. My life was over.  Dead end. Then, by the grace of God, and the constant attention of good friends, I came back.  I am alive again. I believe in the Resurrection. I’ve lived it.”  As inconvenient as it may be, it is the truth of our lives.  And we continue to live it, continue to live through pain, continue to expect more of ourselves, continue to give, continue to care because for us, Resurrection is just a fact of life.

            Today we baptize into the company of the Resurrection Elizabeth Jackson. Elizabeth , you are much too young to realize how inconvenient this faith is.  You are too young to realize how tedious it can be to keep on coming to church to be reminded of the Resurrection, too young to realize how hard it is to give and receive forgiveness, too young to realize how painful it can be to live in hope, too young to know the awkwardness of accepting as your sisters and brothers people whom the world rejects, too young to appreciate the risks of working for justice and peace.  My hope is that by the time you see how inconvenient this faith is, you will also recognize how deep its joys run as well.

            Again, observe Thomas, the Twin.  Our Gospel this morning shows him falling on his knees after he has recognized the wounded and risen Savior.  Legend tells us that he left the upper room and went out to spread the word of the Resurrection.  The legend says that he made his living on his journey working as a builder and that when finally his journeys led him to India , he was given money by a great king to build the king a palace.  When the king came to inspect his new palace some months later, he found that instead Thomas had built hospitals and schools.  Incensed, the king asked Thomas to explain.  Thomas, so the legend goes, simply said, “My King, I have built you a finer palace than any ruler owns, but your palace is not of this world.” The people of the Resurrection understand what he meant. The Resurrection throws everything out of kilter.  It is inconvenient.  But it makes even the inconvenience into a palace.

            Elizabeth Jackson, welcome to an out of kilter world; welcome to your palace.

                                                                                                AMEN