Alleluia. Christ is risen! This is the surprise ending to a series of tragic events in Jesus’ life. The disciples had spent three intensive years with Jesus, learning from him, because they thought he was the Messiah. They understood these years to be a preparation for the time when Jesus’ new kingdom would make King David’s monarchy pale by comparison. They would be the ones Jesus would use to establish his rule. It even looked like it was about to begin just last week, when their Lord and Master rode into Jerusalem on an ass, in fulfillment of messianic prophecy, a public declaration of his identity.
Then it all quickly came to an end. That possibility they had never allowed themselves to imagine had happened. The one they had thought to be the messiah was betrayed by one of the inner circle. Jesus had been arrested, hastily tried, found guilty, and put to death. He had been shamed, disgraced, discredited, he and his followers squelched by the powerful and efficient Roman government.
There was no doubt in their minds. It was finished. Over. The task at hand was to get over their grief and put their lives back together.
Then some women discovered the empty tomb, and a messenger told them that Jesus had been raised from the dead. For several days thereafter, the risen Christ appeared to some 500 people. As Martin Marty put it so clearly, “The disciples did not believe in the resurrection because they believed in Jesus; they believed in Jesus because they believed in the resurrection.” And they believed in the resurrection because they had witnessed the risen Christ.
We are here today because of that one event, but not because it happened once, long ago, and we are here simply remembering that. We are here because the risen Christ is with us and continually comes to us through the Sacrament, through his Word, and through one another, for he lives in us through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us at our baptism. We have been reconciled to God through his death, and now we live with him in his resurrection. We as members of his body live in this new reality.
So, what’s the implication of the resurrection for our daily lives? St. Paul tells us exactly: “Since you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God,…As the Lord has forgiven you, so you must forgive one another.” As we have been reconciled to God through Christ, so we must be agents of reconciliation to others.
I’m reminded of the story of two brothers who lived on adjoining farms and who fell into conflict. It was the first serious rift in 40 years of farming side-by-side, sharing machinery, trading labor and goods as needed without a hitch.
Then the long collaboration fell apart. It began with a small misunderstanding and grew into a major difference, and finally it exploded into an exchange of bitter words followed by weeks of silence.
One morning there was a knock on John’s door. He opened it to find a man with a carpenter’s toolbox. “I’m looking for a few days’ work,” he said. “Perhaps you would have a few small jobs here and there I could help you with?”
“Yes,” said the older brother. “I do have a job for you. Look across the creek at that farm. That’s my neighbor. In fact, it’s my younger brother. Last week there was a meadow between us and he took his bulldozer to the river levee and now there’s a creek between us. Well, he may have done this to spite me, but I’ll do him one better. See that pile of lumber by the barn? I want you to build me a fence—an 8 foot fence—so I won’t need to see his place or his face anymore.”
The carpenter said, “I think I understand the situation. Show me the nails and the post hole digger and I’ll be able to do a job that pleases you.”
The older brother had to go to town, so he helped the carpenter get the materials ready and then he was off for the day. The carpenter worked hard all that day measuring, sawing, nailing. About sunset, when the farmer returned, the carpenter had just finished his job.
The farmer’s eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped. There was no fence there at all. It was a bridge, stretching from one side of the creek to the other! A fine piece of work, handrails and all—and the neighbor, his younger brother, was coming across, his hands outstretched.
“You are quite a fellow to build this bridge after all I’ve said and done.” The two brothers approached the bridge, and then they met in the middle, taking each other’s hands. They turned to see the carpenter hoist his toolbox on his shoulder. “No, wait! Stay a few days. I have a lot of other projects for you,” said the older brother.
“I’d love to stay on,” the carpenter said, “but I have many more bridges to build.”
We can describe the death and resurrection of our Lord in many ways, and one of those ways certainly is by likening it to a bridge. Through his death on the cross the carpenter from Nazareth built a bridge between us and the Father and between us and others. His resurrection made that bridge apparent.
Now that we have been reconciled to God, our purpose is to bring that reconciliation to others, and that work begins by building those bridges in our own relationships, starting with those who are closest to us. George Herbert said, “He who cannot forgive breaks the bridge over which he himself must pass.”
What better way for us to celebrate the presence of the risen Christ than to let his reconciling love build bridges through us?
Alleluia. Christ is risen!
Sermon preached by the Rev. Fredrick A. Robinson
Church of the Redeemer
Sarasota Florida
Easter Day
1 April 2018