Empty or Full

Were you there when God raised him from the tomb?  Were you there when God raised him from the tomb?  Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.  Were you there when God raised him from the tomb?

Raised from the tomb.  Yes, I said raised.  That is what the celebration of Easter is all about.  It is about resurrection, the act of Jesus being raised from the dead.  It is a little hard to wrap our minds around.  For those first witnesses at the tomb it was unexpected and difficult to believe.  Jesus’ resurrection broke the rules.  He should have still been in the tomb.  He should have still been dead.  But he wasn’t dead.  He was alive.  Living proof that a new reality had been created by the King of kings.  Proof that life would be eternal and that death doesn’t have the final word.  Proof that the empty tomb was actually full of life.  Proof that empty actually meant full.  If that isn’t hard to believe I don’t know what is.

Jeremy, a terminally ill student, was 12 years old and still in the second grade.  He couldn’t learn, made unusual noises, and often drooled. Most kids found him a source of humor.  To his teacher, Jeremy was a difficult student. Miss Miller, the teacher, gave an assignment before Easter that required all of the students to take an empty plastic egg and bring it back the next day with something in the egg that represented new life.  The teacher planned to call Jeremy’s parents that night and explain the assignment so that Jeremy would do what she asked, but several emergencies prevented her from calling.  The next day when she opened the nineteen eggs with the children, the first one had a flower in it, and Miss Miller affirmed the fact that a flower represented new life.  The second egg contained a butterfly, which everyone agreed signified new life.  A third egg was a stretch, but the teacher found a way to explain how a moss-covered rock demonstrated new life as well.  To the surprise of the teacher, the fourth egg was empty.  She quickly guessed it was Jeremy’s egg and laid it down without comment.  Jeremy piped up, “Miss Miller, aren’t you going to talk about my egg?”  Flustered, she said, “Jeremy, your egg is empty.”  He looked softly into her eyes and replied, “Yes, but Jesus’ tomb was empty, too!”  Time stopped.  When she could speak again she asked him, “Do you know why the tomb was empty?”  “Oh yes!” Jeremy exclaimed.  “Jesus was killed and put in there.  Then his Father raised him up!”  Miss Miller later spent the recess period crying with a softened heart.  Three months later, when Jeremy died, his understanding of new life was represented by nineteen plastic eggs on his casket–all of which were empty.

Jeremy saw new life in the empty tomb, which is why he brought an empty egg to school.  Imagine opening that empty egg.  What would you have seen?  Would you have seen an empty egg?  Or would you have seen an egg filled with new life? 

Now imagine yourself as the first person to arrive at the tomb where Jesus had been laid.  Imagine looking into that tomb.  What would you have seen?  Would you have seen an empty tomb?  Or would you have seen a tomb filled with new life? 

Fast-forward two thousand some years, to today.  On this Easter, we come to the tomb.  The tomb is empty.  Or is it actually full?  I suppose that is really a matter of personal perspective, but I would like to suggest that it is both empty and full.  Through the resurrection, we each are given an egg of new life today.  That egg is empty and at the same time it is full.

It is empty of death and full of life.

It is empty of darkness and full of light.

It is empty of sorrow and full of joy.

It is empty of sadness and full of happiness.

It is empty of despair and full of hope.

It is empty of failure and full of triumph.

It is empty of defeat and full of victory.

It is empty of cries of crucifixion and full of shouts of alleluia.

It is empty and in its emptiness it is full.

Empty and full for who?  The resurrection message was for all the disciples.  The resurrection message was for everyone.  Today we are the disciples hearing the good news of the resurrection.  Today the resurrection message is still for everyone.  The egg is empty and full for you and for me.  The egg is empty and full for everyone.  The message that we are sent to share is that Jesus did not stay dead.  Sure it is not an easy message to share, because to the unbeliever, the doubter, or the skeptic it seems crazy to believe that Jesus conquered death and the grave for all of us. 

Yet, to us, as people of faith, it is good news.  It is good news, because through faith we are given hope to believe in the resurrection.  It is faith that allows us to live into the mystery, not knowing why or how this all happened, but trusting the Easter story.  God raised Jesus from the dead after three days.  The tomb was empty.  Jesus was not there.  Jesus has been raised.  In the emptiness of the tomb there was fullness of new life.  That tomb was our tomb.  That resurrection was our resurrection.  It is faith that helps us to understand that through Christ’s death we have died and that through Christ’s resurrection we have been given new life.  So this day and always be like this egg.  Be empty and full all at the same time.

            Alleluia.  Christ is Risen.  Alleluia.  Alleluia.

Welcomed Back

Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

Today we encounter one of the well known stories of the Bible: the prodigal son.  This is a story that is known by most and loved by many.  It is a story that is relevant to our lives.  We can relate to it.  At its core this story really is about each one of us.  We could quickly try to claim that this parable is just about drug and alcohol problems, problems of dissolute living.  We could claim that it is about people who end up in prison because of lifestyle choices.  We could declare that it is about people in places that live in famine.  We could try to write it off as being about people who squander everything they have.  None of those meanings are the point of this parable. 

No, at this parable’s core is us, each one of us.  Within its cast of characters there is room for each one of us to play a part.  Are we the older son?  Are we the father?  Are we the younger son?  At one point or another in our lives I think we all will play the role of each character.  Feel free to change the gender of the characters.  Feel free to change the relationship of parent and child to another relationship in your life: teacher and student, you and your significant other, coworker and coworker, you and your boss, or whatever fits your situation these days.  The relevant question in this moment is who are we in this parable today? 

            Are you the older son?  Maybe you are you angry that a party has been thrown for your younger sibling.  Maybe you are upset that your younger sibling has squandered his or her part of the inheritance.  Maybe you are miffed that your little brother or sister would wander back after a bout of dissolute living.  Maybe you are absolutely irate at the way in which your sibling has been greeted, welcomed, and given complete reconciliation after such behavior.

Are you the parent – the father or mother?  Maybe you are overjoyed at the return of your child who was once lost.  Maybe you are annoyed with the way your children treat each other.  Maybe you wish there could be reconciliation between your children.  Philosopher James K. A. Smith, “Your children are going to break your heart.  Somehow.  Somewhere.  Maybe more than once.  To become a parent is to promise you’ll love prodigals.”  That love is an unconditional and unbecoming love.  Love that made a grown man run toward his son, which was inappropriate in ancient Palestine.  Love that caused the father to slaughter the fattened calf, which would need to be consumed quickly, which meant this was probably a village-wide party.  Love that shows extreme reconciliation.

            Are you the younger son?  Maybe you are glad about the way you have been able to experience freedom and independence.  Maybe you are upset with yourself for the way in which you have squandered your inheritance.  Maybe you are annoyed with your older sibling and his or her lack of hospitality when you return home.  Maybe you are shocked at the extravagant response of your parents when you return home.  Maybe you are simply thankful to finally have food to eat.  Maybe you are absolutely blown away by the reconciling love being expressed by your parent.

In case the story of the prodigal son seems to unbelievable to wrap your mind around in this current day and age let me share with you this modern day story of the prodigal son that I recently read.  The young son had gone to San Francisco.  He was out of money, out of friends, out of options.  He had hit the bottom and was at wits ends.  This lost son wrote a letter home to his parents living in the Seattle area.  He wrote, “Dear Mom and Dad, I have sinned deeply against you.  I have sinned against you and I have sinned against God and I am not worthy to be called your son.  There is no reason for you to love me or welcome me back home.  I am at the bottom of the barrel and I need to come back home.  I hope that you would welcome me. I have been given a ticket for a train, a ticket to get me back to Seattle.   The train comes past our farm south of Seattle.  The train comes around the bend and right past our farmhouse.  If you want me to come home, please put a white towel on the clothesline, out in the back yard near the tracks.  I will then know that you want me to come back home.  If there is no towel there, I understand.  I will understand that it is not right for me to come back home.”  The young man sent the letter, got on the train, and started heading north.  As he came closer and closer to home, he became more nervous inside and was pacing up and down the center aisle of the train.  As the train came closer and closer to his farmhouse, he couldn’t bear it anymore.  He was momentarily  sitting next to a man, and he said to him, “Sir, around this next corner, this next bend, there is going to be a farm house of the left.  A white house.  An old red barn behind it.  A dilapidated fence.  There will be a clothesline in the back yard.  Would you do me a favor and look and see if there is a white towel hanging on the clothesline?  I know it sounds peculiar, but I can’t bear to look.”  Well, the train came closer and closer to the bend and started to go around the bend, and the young man’s heart was racing as fast as it could.  The man said, “Look, look, look. Open your eyes.”  The whole clothesline was covered with white towels.  The oak trees were covered with white sheets.  The barn roof was covered with sheets.  The old dilapidated fence was covered with white sheets.  There were sheets everywhere.  The father and mother so deeply wanted their son to come back home.

            The same is true for us.  When we wander away from God and let me be the first to admit that I have done this and I would venture to say that we all have, we are welcomed back.  When we squander everything that God has given us, we are welcomed back.  When we spend our inheritance in dissolute living, we are welcomed back.  When we think that we are no longer worthy to be called God’s sons and daughters, we are welcomed back.  When we think reconciliation is impossible, we are welcomed back.  

If we go back to that quote by Philosopher James Smith, we can imagine them as God’s words. “Your children are going to break your heart.  Somehow.  Somewhere.  Maybe more than once.  To become a parent is to promise you’ll love prodigals.”  If you hear nothing else today, hear this: Regardless of which character you may be at this point in your life, know that there is welcome for you.  God will run to meet you, embrace you, give you the finest robe and ring, throw a party in your honor, and provide ultimate reconciling love and grace for you each and every day.  You are always welcomed back by God, because God promises to love the prodigals.  God promises to love us.  Amen.