"EASTER
COM-PASSION"
A Sermon by the Rev. Bruce Clear
Easter Sunday, April 11, 2004
All
It seems ironic to me that the story of Jesus' suffering, especially at the Easter season, can become the central focus of our reflection about his life. It is a shame if the story of Jesus' death becomes more significant than the story of his life. The life he lived and the message he taught was not about passion. It was, more precisely, about "com-passion." Compassion. If the technical meaning of the word "passion" is "to suffer," then the familiar word "compassion" means "to suffer with" others. This is the core of Jesus' life and teachings, and it would seem to me that any celebration of his life and legacy that ignores this fact is deeply flawed.
Jesus' message was about compassion, love, and acceptance. He saw others'
sufferings and found ways to help. He associated with outcasts, and was
criticized for his compassion "for the least of these." When asked
about how to enter the
The Easter season is the perfect time to celebrate the immortality of Jesus
through his life and teachings. The cross did not succeed in silencing his
life. His life continues through the compassion he inspired and continues to
inspire.
If there were no Easter story, it would have to be invented. In fact, it and many stories like it were invented. The story of re-birth or resurrection - of victory over death and despair - has been a vital part of nearly all human civilizations, implying that this myth speaks directly to something deeply true within human experience. From the Greek myth of Adonis, who was killed by wild beasts and resurrected by his lover Aphrodite, to the Indian myth of the Phoenix, a defeated bird arising from its own ashes, the Easter theme of re-birth and resurrection has been valued among all cultures and peoples and all religions.
And it is often the case that these celebrations of re-birth are observed in the Springtime. As the earth and sun display new vitality following a season of sleep and darkness, this is the obvious time for people to honor their confidence in new life and new awakenings.
It is a shame when so many in our culture insist on tarnishing the Easter story by declaring its value rests in its historical and literal accuracy. Damage is also done in the reverse, when it is declared that the most important aspect of this story is that it is historically and literally false. Most of the time, insistence on literalism in biblical interpretation is objectionable to me. It is objectionable, though, whether the stories are taken to be literally true or literally false. In both cases, the stories are judged not for their power or usefulness as stories, but rather according to the factualness. When stories are argued to be either literally true or literally false, the deeper meanings of the stories are inevitably lost in the argument.
The deeper meaning of the story of Jesus is not about the facts of his life, it is about the impact of his teachings on the world.
The deeper meaning of the Easter story is not about the passion of Jesus at his
death, it is about the how the compassion revealed in his life and teachings
have taken on an immortality that has stretched over the centuries. A claim of
physical bodily resurrection is a minor miracle compared with a claim of how
one life has impacted the world ever since. Jesus' life, which taught and
modeled love, compassion and acceptance, continues to exist, even now, in the
lives of those who live with conviction according to his teaching of love,
compassion and acceptance.
The phenomenon of immortality can be found in nature itself. If we are in search of evidence for immortality and resurrection, we can find it prominently within nature. For example, if we are somehow vain enough to think that our life is some kind of novel or original creation, we need to be reminded that our genes -- every one of them -- have existed for millions of years. The genetic DNA molecules we carry are not new, they are inherited; they are re-born matter which is very old -- literally, as old as the hills. Or if we think that the rain that fell on us last week was last week's rain, we should be aware that it was the same rain that fell on Joan of Arc and Caesar and Socrates. Or if we think the stars were hung in the sky for us alone, we need to recall that they were hung where they are hung long before this planet even welcomed the homo sapien species.
Like human genetic material, like rain, or like the stars, the life of Jesus
continues on in the unending story of cosmic history. It continues not because
of being resurrected from a tomb, but rather because good cannot be erased from
the world.
The claim that Jesus arose from the tomb is of little importance when compared with the claim that his life continues to appear even today in those people who "hunger and thirst for righteousness," who are "merciful and pure of heart," who are "peacemakers," and who "love their neighbors as themselves."
In Bishop John Shelby Spong's book about the resurrection story, he
acknowledges that a careful reading of the biblical narrative presents serious
problems for those who wish to consider it to be historically accurate. The
story is not true in any literal sense, he shows. But Spong makes an important
distinction between what is true and what is real. The story of Jesus coming
back to life in any physical way just didn't happen. But the impact of the
story itself, the effect it had on his followers, was a real effect. If the
story had actually happened exactly as it was described, it could not have had
a more profound influence than it did. The story was real.
The earliest manuscript of the earliest New Testament document is the account of Mark. In the original, Mark's story ends at Chapter 16, verse 8 which describes the discovery of the empty tomb. It was later writers who added to Mark's story, and appended verses 9 through 20 which tells of Jesus' appearances, after death, to the disciples. When Matthew and Luke and Paul wrote their narratives many years later still, they followed the revised stories that included tales of Jesus' appearances after death.
What is fairly clear from this is that the early Christian church felt
deeply the presence of Jesus in their lives. The reality they experienced
required that the story be embellished. It was inconceivable to them that the
story should end with the empty tomb when they themselves experienced his
influence so strongly.
In one gospel, after his resurrection, Jesus appears to the disciple Simon Peter. In the conversation, Jesus asks of him, "Peter, do you love me?" Peter replies, "Yes, Lord, you know I do." Then Jesus responds, "Then feed my sheep."
For those who don't take the Bible literally, Jesus was saying something far more important, and much different, than feeding a flock of sheep. He was saying that the sign of love is caring for others, and those who love Jesus show that love by their compassion for others in need. "Feed my sheep."
There is another implication from this exchange. This is how the
life of Jesus continues after death. To the extent his followers demonstrate
the life of compassion he modeled, then his life is
not extinguished. Spong says it this way, referring to that verse:
"'Simon, if you love me you will feed my sheep.' This was the meaning
that Simon seemed to hear again and again as he tried to make sense out of his experience. . .; that is, the risen Christ will be known
when his disciples can love as Jesus loved, and when they love the ones whom
Jesus loved, namely, the least of God's children. . . . The message was simple:
when you feed the hungry, you feed Christ; when you give water to the thirsty,
clothing to the naked, comfort for the distressed, companionship to the
rejected and the imprisoned, you are giving to Christ himself."
And so it has been over the last 20 centuries. Jesus' life continues today in
urging all people to be faithful to the power of love and compassion.
Easter is, in this very practical sense, a story about immortality: the immortality of the message of compassion. The story assures us that a life can continue in its influence and power long after death. Some people tell us that the Easter story assures us of the truth of life after death. In a sense, I agree. The life of Jesus has lived on in the lives he touched, long after his own life was gone. And that is true for all: those who touch others in life, touch others in death; those who live to make a better world leave a better world after they are gone. The metaphor of resurrection, delivered in the drama of the gospels, reminds us of what it is that lasts and what it is that perishes. In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes that "The things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal." Easter provides us an opportunity to consider the eternal, the unseen, that which outlasts the mortal coil of life.
Everything that has physical existence comes and goes in time. That is true of stars which once were not, now are, and sometime will die out. It is true of mountains which, though long lasting, given enough time will erode and rearrange to very different form, and perhaps disappear. It is also true of you and of me in our physical being; we are temporal, finite.
But the truths of living are eternal. We speak of classic literature - of Shakespeare, Dante, Chaucer. They are classic because they address the enduring truths of life: honor, character, integrity. They address the enduring struggles we face in all generations - how to love and how to treat others with respect and justice. "A new commandment I bring to you," said Jesus, "that you love one another." Here is the source of Jesus' immortality. Here is the seed that is continually reborn and kept alive by all succeeding generations.
It is a mistake, it seems to me, to put one's faith in the temporal - to treat this holiday as a temporal event in time rather than as an eternal truth. To the extent that this holiday is about a physical resurrection event in time, its meaning is temporal. To the extent it is about undying values like compassion, its meaning is eternal. Seen as metaphor, Easter demonstrates the distinction between the temporal and the eternal. "Things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal."
Near the end of Luke's gospel, when Jesus was considering the fact of his impending death, he said this to his disciples: "Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away."
In this statement, he identified the difference between the eternal and the temporal. It is not the physical that is eternal, but it is words, values, and ideas that transform us, and which will live on through time. In Jesus' life we find the model of human compassion.
Too much of modern Christendom, it seems to me, can be overly concerned with
the way Jesus was said to have been born (miraculously) and the way he is said to
have died (miraculously). The real miracle how he lived and the legacy of
compassion he left for us two thousand years later.