Foothills Congregational Church The Rev. W. Matthew Broadbent

United Church of Christ Easter Sunday – 9:00 a.m.

461 Orange Ave., Los Altos, CA 94022 April 8, 2007

THE UTTER NONSENSE OF THE RESURRECTION

Luke 24:1-12

One Sunday morning in a former parish the Gospel had been read and I was about to start to preach when a man stood up in the back of the church and interrupted the service. “I have a word from the Lord!” He said. We were startled and a little embarrassed. I tried to hold my cool and I smiled and gave the high sign to the ushers who came forward and they gently took the man out of the sanctuary before he could elaborate further on just what “word” he had been given. I am sure I made some quick-witted comment to cover the interruption and regained control of worship service, though for the life of me I can’t remember what it was. Everybody breathed a sigh of relief, because chaos was, once again, averted. There would be no disruption this Sunday morning.

But, don’t you think it is odd that week after week, preachers in countless pulpits stand up and say in effect, the same thing as the man in the back of the sanctuary: “I have a word from the Lord!” and in those cases there are no alarms sounded, no one is astonished or embarrassed, and no apprehensive ushers come forward to escort the preacher into the street (even though after hearing the sermon you may wish they had). If a sudden unexpected shout erupts from the back of the church, the place gets set on edge, but when the preacher starts into the Gospel word for the day, you are more likely to crease your bulletins and settle into the pews and assume a posture of deep contemplation. Homiletics professors have said, “No wonder some clergy, in hopes of putting a little electricity into the sermon event, have taken to wandering the aisles Oprah-like with handheld mikes.”

It is somewhat reassuring for me to realize that the first Christian sermon ever preached did not register high on the Richter scale either. When the women came back from the cemetery on Easter morning, they brought with them the word of the empty tomb and astonishing news: “He is not here, but has risen!” All Christian preaching begins here, and all Christian sermons are really just variations on this Easter news, first announced by the women to the apostles: “He is not there! What are we to do?”

The response? Probably the same underwhelming response we would have, or maybe still have. The translations differ, but the meaning is the same; you can take your pick. The words seemed to them like “an idle tale,” “empty talk,” a silly story,” a foolish yarn,” “utter nonsense,” “sheer humbug.”

Why didn’t they take the women seriously? Why was their witness nonsense? Some have suggested it was because they were women. “From women let not evidence be accepted,” reads the Mishna, “because of the levity and temerity of their sex.”

We don’t say that anymore, do we? At least not in my house. I turned to John Miller, a lawyer specializing in Family Law, and asked him, “What makes a poor witness?”

He responded: “I have thought a bit about your question.  Unreliable witnesses include convicted felons, and people who one can prove have lied about issues connected with the trial, people who have changed their story.  I have a case where a mother has reported to child protective services that the father is molesting their child.  There had been six previous reports.  All had been proven unfounded and some were obviously impossible due to travel and other circumstances.  She is a poor witness.  I have a case where the witness asked another person to lie for her, saying “It doesn't matter what you say, the crazy Americans will believe you if you can cry.”  This impeachment was devastating to her case. 

He further said: “I do not observe bias for race or sexual orientation but men are not considered to be reliable reporters with regard to child custody matters. Men who have long hair and beards are not taken seriously.   Shy people also have trouble connecting with the Judges and I assume with a jury.  I also think that dress can be helpful or hurtful to a witness, depending on the case.  A man in blue jeans and a t-shirt is less credible than a man wearing a good sport coat or coat and tie.  Older people are more effective than younger (this works to about 70 or so depending on appearance).”

Those are the observations of a trial lawyer. The Gospel writer doesn’t need to be so careful about a witness because there was a general gender prejudice toward women that does affect the apostles’ indifference. But there is something more going on here. The Bible, again and again, uses those people who are seen to be on the margins of respectability to witness to the new thing that is happening. The Gospel of Matthew, for example begins with a genealogy for Jesus which includes four women, all of them Gentiles and/or women who had irregular sexual unions but were deemed important to God’s plan. They are Tamar, a Canaanite; Rahab, a prostitute, who helped Joshua defeat Jericho; Ruth, a Moabite and great grandmother of David; and Mary, a young girl with a suspicious tale of conception.

And here, in Luke, are more women in the garden (those who had stood on the edge of the crowd during the crucifixion) who were confirming a message that Jesus himself had already told the disciples. Before he entered Jerusalem he said that he would be killed but that on the third day he would rise. He said it not once but three times and still they were in denial. You may remember that Peter said, “Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death!” And then, he denied ever knowing Jesus three times before the cock crowed.

The women had come to the disciples with a revolutionary announcement - “He is risen!” - which the disciples dismissed with a wave of the hand. They dismissed it as nonsense. When the women came racing back with the news that Jesus’ words had come to pass, you t would think the disciples would have been prepared, eager, receptive, believing. Instead they yawned, checked their watches and wondered when the sermon would be over so they could shuffle off to the coffee hour.

Maybe the news of Easter is just too overwhelming to believe. Thomas G. Long wrote of a friend of his whose younger son was a great fan of both Captain Kangaroo and Mister Rogers. “The boy faithfully watched both of their television shows, and one day it was announced that Mister Rogers would be paying a visit to the Captain Kangaroo show.

The child was ecstatic. Both of his heroes together on the same show! Every morning the boy would ask, “Is it today that Mister Rogers will be on Captain Kangaroo?” Finally, the great day arrived, and the whole family gathered around the TV. There they were Mister Rogers and Captain Kangaroo together. The boy watched for a minute, but then, surprisingly, got up and walked out of the room. Puzzled, his father went after him and asked, “What is it? Is anything wrong?”

“It’s too good,” the boy said, “It’s just too good.”

Maybe that’s what it is. Maybe the news of the empty tomb, the news of resurrection, the news of Jesus’ victory over death is just too good to believe, too good to assimilate all at once.

I suspect, however, that there is a deeper and more complex reason for writing off the women’s proclamation. Like the Emmaus road travelers in the story that follows, the disciples are not merely bored; they are “slow of heart to believe.” They are not just indifferent to the good news they are actively resistant. They are resistant because they are in shock, after the events of Friday. Perhaps a clue can be found in what they are called in this story. Initially Luke tells us that the women went back to tell the news “to the eleven,” but later he changes their title to “the apostles,” which means “those who are sent.”

If Jesus story ends on Friday, then the disciples will still be just “the eleven,” and after the appropriate rituals and period of mourning the eleven can go back to life as it was, each in their own way. If the story ends on Friday “the eleven,” become the alumni association of Jesus’ school of religion and they will meet periodically to reflect on what “might have been.” They will become students of an inspiring though tragic teacher of great ethical values, a worker of miraculous healing, and a story-teller par excellence. But, in short, the story ends with the crucifixion and we can close the Gospel of Luke.

However, the news of Sunday, apparently, has some legs to it, and those who were merely eleven remaining followers became “the apostles,” those who are sent to Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria and the ends of the earth. Word is they even sent someone to Los Altos, California. There will be arrests and shipwrecks and outpourings of the Spirit and persecutions and gentile conversions and stonings and miles of weary travel. This Jesus who was dead and in the grave has empowered a whole new movement of the Spirit. It is not just idle talk, nonsense, but something more.

In fact, the clue may be in that small conjunction – but. The word but is repeated six times in these twelve verses:

“But, on the first day of the week…

“but, when they went in, they did not find the body…”

“but…Why do you look for the living among the dead?”

“He is not here, but has risen.”

“But these words seemed to them an idle tale, nonsense, and they did not believe them.”

And, then, most telling: “But, Peter got up and ran to the tomb.”

Maybe that is the core of the Easter message. It makes no sense, but we get up and run to the tomb to check it out, anyway. And some of us, stooping, look in, and find nothing, no body, only linen cloths. That is all we get on Easter morning. Then we go home perplexed but amazed.

You don’t have to take this story any more seriously than did those first eleven. You can find a dozen reasons why it is nonsense. You can “yes, but” all you want. Except, that here you are, having run to the tomb, because someone was sent to say, “I have a word from the Lord.” And you said, “Yes, but… but then you ran to the tomb to see if it was really – “Yes!

And who knows? Maybe, someday, you will feel empowered by the Spirit of the risen Christ to be sent out of here with a word of good news yourself that you need to share with others - not gently ushered out - but sent out with good news to the ends of the earth.

Christ is risen! Can you believe it? Yes, but… but… Yes!