THE WORD 4 ev 1

Today’s reading is Luke 24 (click here for link)

I can remember Mary—at least I think that was her name. She was a woman who lived sometimes near the church where I did field work back in St. Louis. I really didn’t know much about her. She could be seen occasionally, crossing the street opposite the church, drinking from a paper bag. Like so many in her situation, her purpose in life—her presence—was reduced to a shadow figure, one who didn’t seem to have much left to live for. She was a shell of a woman—haggard and angry. In fact, woman… man… the classification didn’t really matter. She was like any of the others you sometimes see, but don’t always really see.

I had the opportunity to speak with her once. I wish the conversation had been better. It was after the service on Easter morning, a morning full of proclamation about resurrection hope and new life. My wife and I were loading the kids into the mini-van. We were anticipating a day full of Easter festivities spent with friends. But suddenly I had that distinct feeling that someone was looking over my shoulder. It was Mary. She had come up behind us, right behind us. There we stood, practically face to face. I don’t think there could have been a better picture of opposites. We seemed almost worlds apart. Me and my family, full of life, in our picture-perfect, Sunday morning best, and then Mary, pushing her wind-blown hair out of her eyes, a dry, snarled expression on her face, and a paper bag in her hand. It was true, up close and personal she appeared a dried- out shell of a person—nothing but dry bones—and you could smell her too, the alcohol on her breath. She wanted a ride somewhere. With numerous racial slurs and profanity, she tried to describe the location. Naturally, the seminary student in me wanted to comply (Christian love, right?), but every shred of common sense screamed otherwise. After all, I couldn’t have her sit between the car seats of my 15 month old and our 4 month old. If I hadn’t refused, my wife would have! And so that is what we did, politely, of course. But that is when she stabbed her finger at us and yelled the most startling thing, “What good is your Jesus anyway?”

I know she may have just been goading me, but I felt so helpless, so useless. She seemed so hopeless and empty. It was like a little nightmare of my own. You spend your whole life living out the Christian faith—at least that is what you think—but then you end up in a situation like this. Where is Christian hope in a situation like this? How do you help someone like her? And what about that question? To be honest, I found myself wondering, Could “my” Jesus help her?

I am sure you’ve all had similar experiences, the type of situation where you want to say something nice, something that will make it all better. It is the type of situation where you know you are supposed to give a Christian witness, yet at the same time you are all to keenly aware that anything you might say would only smack of hypocrisy because, after all, there you are standing in your Sunday best next to your new mini-van with dinner waiting in the oven; and across from you is Mary, lacking everything you have. It is hard to make nice of that situation. This world sometimes seems so filled with hopelessness.

Yes, we talk up the resurrection whenever we get a chance, as Christians, but have you ever felt (though you probably wouldn’t admit it) that even though Jesus has risen from the dead and ascended into heaven, the world really doesn’t seem that changed? From our text, it seems like that was the natural reaction of those first resurrection witnesses—huddled together in a locked room. It was business as usual—the same war crimes and atrocities were happening; diseases and poverty were still there, stress from work and the struggles of marriage and parenthood and relationships—all of it was still there. No doubt the world would have bought into Mary’s question, “What good is your Jesus anyway?”

But then, the resurrected Lord appeared, and everything changed! “Peace be with you,” he said. And from that moment forward, a power so great swelled in that room and in the ages beyond, which can still be felt today, 2000 years later. Resurrection power! God’s power of life even wake of death and hopelessness and despair. This power has been the driving force of the Church on earth through the millennia and has never given up its testimony and witness of the resurrection.

New life! New life is at hand! “Peace be with you.” It has the power to change even the most hopeless situations in this world. And if you don’t believe me… well… let me tell you just a little bit more about Mary. You see, the last time I saw her; she was eating soup in the basement of the church. The Youth were serving dinner before the Wednesday evening service. But this time, Mary wasn’t sitting alone. She wasn’t stabbing her finger at anybody, questioning their Jesus. She was smiling! She was talking! She didn’t seem dry anymore. She seemed more alive than I had ever seen her. It was miraculous!

Unfortunately, I have never learned exactly how this miracle happened, but I know one thing for sure, that even when I was left feeling hopeless and useless as Mary walked away on that Easter morning, the Holy Spirit had resurrection in mind. You see, resurrection is more than just something that is preached about in sermons. It is more than just a vague and future hope. No. Resurrection is the power of God, in the here and now. Resurrection is the power of God in midst of dry bones. I pray the next time I meet someone like Mary, I see them through the eyes of resurrection hope.

Have a blessed day,
Pastor Aaron