You Tube Theology

Easter 2012 9AM Service Opening Excerpt from the Sermon:(38:23) "I wonder if you've ever looked into a deep, dark, cave. It's cold, it's mysterious, it's maybe a little damp, and there's this little voice in your head that's saying to you, "If I go down too far into it either there'll be something scary and angry down there that'll get me, or, maybe worse, there'll be some kind of rock that will roll across the face of the cave and shut me in -- and no one will hear my cries.' Mary Magdalene was looking into a cave like that on the first Easter morning. And it turned out there were indeed some creatures in the dark cave. Two angels. So not your average tomb, then. The angels are pretty observant, mind you. They can see the state Mary's in. They say to her, "Why are you crying?" You can tell these angels have never done a course in pastoral care and counselling. Because the first thing you learn in pastoral care and counselling is, "Never ask, 'Why?'." "Why?" is a useless question. It's threatening, unsupportive, paralyzing and conversation-stopping. It's the sort of thing a husband says. It's almost certain to make the person cry all the more, because if they could give a satisfactory answer, they probably wouldn't be crying, stupid. Mary, to her credit, doesn't say, 'That's not a very helpful question. What kind of an angel are you?'She says, 'They've taken away my Lord, and I don't know where they've laid him.' Let's put ourselves in Mary's shoes for a moment, and allow ourselves to be asked that question. 'Why are you crying?' Why is Mary crying? Let's hear her answer. 'I'm crying because I'm experiencing horrifying loss, aching grief, and a huge hole where the love and hope and trust and joy of my life used to be. This man, this more-than-just-a-man, who was supposed to be laid in this tomb, turned my life from monochrome to technicolor, from a lonely violin to a crescendoing orchestra, from a limp and falling feather to a soaring eagle's wing. I'm crying because I'm staring into the horror of death, and death right now seems to be obliterating everything I want, everything I need, everything I know. I feel so powerless, so fragile, so alone.'" Closing Excerpt from the Sermon:(55:15) "'Mary," she's crying, but she feels the sense of a companion with whom she will never again be alone, she senses the touch of the one who will never let her go, she hears her name like never before. "Mary." Her eyes are opened. She's looking into the face of the resurrected Jesus. And now, surely, she discovers a different kind of tears. She's known what it means to be overwhelmed by loss, by sin, by the absence of God. But now she's crying more than ever, yet in a new way. She's crying because, if Jesus has emerged from the tomb, that means he's not been destroyed by the grave, and she's blinded by the wonder of imagining what it's like to live beyond death, to enjoy life forever, to put aside fear and loss and grief and sorrow; and the tears are cascading down her cheeks and falling to the ground in fountains of joy. She's crying because, if Jesus is alive, that means he's dismantled sin, and she's swathed in a shower of tears in dreaming of a world where enmity's healed, hatred is transformed, cruelty's turned to kindness and anger's displaced by mercy. She's crying because if Jesus is looking at her that means he's reunited us with God, and her disbelief is being washed away by a tidal wave of grace, and she's in an ocean of glory with angels and archangels and saints and cherubim and all the company of heaven. These tears don't seek the comfort of one person to share, to receive, to cherish, and to understand. These tears are infectious-- they need to be taken to the whole world. These are the tears of baptism that are sent to refresh everyone; this is an overwhelming that's destined to flood the whole creation with joy. Mary's asking the whole creation, "Why aren't you crying?" "Here are a man and a woman in a garden, the very picture that started the whole Bible, the very place where everything went wrong. And here again is this man and this woman, at the very place where everything is put right again; but way beyond the imagination of that first man and woman, because here is not just the setting-- right of human relations with one another, but here is the reunion between humanity, creation, and God. If that doesn't make you cry with tears of joy, nothing ever will. So here's my question for you, this blessed Easter morning. Why are you crying? Are you looking into the tomb, overwhelmed by grief, by sin, by utter loneliness? Or are you looking into the face of the risen Lord, overwhelmed by glory, by wonder, by joy? Whom are you looking for? The one who overcomes death, dismantles sin, and reunites you with God? Well, here's the good news of Easter. He's looking at you, kid. Easter's drenched in tears. But they're tears of joy."