Letting Go Of Jesus
  John 20:1-18

Dr. J. Lawrence Cuthill

April 4, 2010

Winter Park Presbyterian Church

It is a wild and wonderful day on Easter Sunday. We began (begin) with a sunrise service out here on the East Lawn. There are hosts of other churches and Christian groups who also gather in cemeteries, lakesides, and amphitheaters, remembering the great discovery that took place at dawn. “He is not here. He is risen!” It’s the same place where we had an Easter Egg hunt yesterday, which also falls into the category of wild and wonderful, with a big dose of chaos thrown in for good measure. The image that comes to mind is that of an anthill that’s been disturbed. If you’re one of those who don’t like organized religion, you would have loved it. I’m put in mind of a statement by the late Kurt Vonnegut, “I don’t know about you, but I practice a disorganized religion. I belong to an unholy disorder. We call ourselves “Our Lady of Perpetual Astonishment.”

     Astonishment is as good a word as any to capture the tone of the account. Death was cheated. It did not have the final word, although it would have appeared to have won - for 3 days. Then life broke forth from a tomb, a grave. All efforts to explain it fall far short. Do you remember the preacher and his family who were on the way to Easter Sunday services? The 8-year-old son piped up from the back seat, “Dad, are you gonna’ explain all about Easter or just let us enjoy it?” Out of the mouths of babes.

     The story circulated about a Sunday School teacher who wanted to teach her class about how we get to heaven. She posed a series of leading questions:

     -“If I sold all I had in a big garage sale and gave it to the poor, would that get me into heaven?” “No!” the children chorused, already sensing the desired response.

     -“If I was kind to mean people, caring toward animals and gave candy to children, would that get me into heaven?”

     -“No,” came a little less enthusiastic response - that candy part was pretty persuasive.

     “Well, then …” she said, sensing she was about to make her point. “how do you get to heaven?” And with that, one 5-year-old boy shouted, “You gotta’ be dead!” Bingo!

     There are lots of ways we try to cheat death. From plastic surgery to vitamins and exercise programs, but as they say, nobody gets out of this life alive. There are those who might take issue with that, especially those who anticipate the rapture, but the odds are we’ll have to pass through the transition called death.

     Before you conclude that’s a morbid thought, let’s be sure we understand that resurrection, the central theme of Easter, indeed Christianity, is not some comforting, platonic notion, a reassuring metaphor symbolized by the return of spring or butterflies or Easter bunnies and decorated eggs. Many in the Western World are unwitting Platonists, that is, they think like Plato that the body is temporary housing, an object of art and sculpture, but basically an earth suit to be shed at death so the soul can move to a higher non-material place of knowledge and existence. In truth, the Christian view of resurrection includes an affirmation we often say but seldom understand – “I believe in the resurrection of…the body.” How? I can’t explain it…I’ll just let you enjoy it…seriously; the resurrection of Jesus was a prototype, the beginning of the resurrection to come for us all. Christianity isn’t some vacuous myth; the material life, this physical universe counts. You count body, soul and spirit.

In the African American Church, the preacher often asks the congregation “Can I get a witness?!” It generally evokes enthusiastic verbal response. “Amen!” On Easter, since we can’t explain it all, though some try, we look to a company of witnesses, most notably the compelling experience of Mary Magdalene.  She was the first follower of the “late” Jesus who personally encountered the risen Christ. It came about because Mary Magdalene, in spite of the danger and the dark, needed to go there. The One who had reached out to her when others turned a cold shoulder; the One who saw her not as an object for gratification, but as a deeply wounded human, the One who restored her innocence, her dignity, her hope, would not be deterred from paying her respect, grieving her deep loss, saying her goodbye. When people go through such an experience, losing a loved one, they often report it’s all they can do to put one foot in front of another. It’s like slow motion in a surreal setting. It takes courage we don’t think we have to simply keep on, to get up, to go on when you just want to give up.

And Mary Magdalene did. But there in the gloom of dawn, another blow awaits. The stone which covered the entrance to the tomb was removed. Dark mystery heaped on tragedy. She ran and reported it to Peter and John. As yet there is no talk of miracle, of resurrection – only shock and dismay. Peter and John ran to the tomb to see for themselves. Verifying her story, we’re told “they went home.” No resurrection….not yet.

It was Mary Magdalene who lingered weeping. She sat with her sadness and then through tear-stained eyes saw 2 angels who ask why she weeps. “He’s gone.  They’ve taken him away.” Then perhaps as we’ve done, she senses someone behind her and turns to find a man she supposes to be the gardener. Still no resurrection - not until He calls her name. My sheep know my voice and I know them by name. Realization, Resurrection!

     Mary Magdalene waited. She let herself feel the loss. Maybe in the progression from despair to discovery there’s a word for us. Wait here awhile … before the mystery. You may have come to this place today with a strong faith in the resurrection. Something deeply, powerfully resonates with the great proclamation “He is risen!” Or, you came with no particular conviction about the claim. Too soon we have left and just gone home. Too soon we have given up; succumbed to the standard, conventional world view that there is no miracle, no mystery … and all that awaits us is the grave at the end of the road.

     There was no diffidence, no ambivalence for Mary Magdalene when she heard him call her name. She clung to him; held him for dear life, an apt phrase. Here’s another word for disciples…spoken to Mary…spoken to Peter when he wanted to capture the moment on the mount of transfiguration. Things can’t remain the same. There’s no going back; no keeping things as they were. It’s so…human nature. We want to hold on to the familiar. He says trust me and follow. You have to let go … let go of the past, sentimentality, resentment (those Romans and Pharisees were targets) hurt, burdens … let go … and go and tell. But know this: You can’t hold on, but He never lets go.

     Henri Nouwen wrote a remarkable little book, Our Greatest Gift, a Meditation on Dying and Caring, in which he relates a story that illustrates what difference it makes to know “Jesus Christ is risen.” It means you and I can entrust the death of our loved ones and our own death to God. Nouwen told the story about going to a circus in Germany. He became utterly captivated by the trapeze artists. They were called the Flying Rodleighs. After a very pleasant telephone conversation, they met and became friends. Nouwen followed them around Germany. He reported a conversation that he had with the leader, the “Flyer Rodleigh.” Rodleigh explained to him how they fly through the air.

“As a flyer, I must have complete trust in my catcher.  The public might think I am the star, but the real star is my catcher.” “How does it work?” Nouwen asked. “The secret,” Rodleigh said, “is that the flyer does nothing but let go and the catcher does everything. When I fly I have simply to stretch out my arms and hands and wait for him to catch me. The worst thing I can do is to try to catch the catcher. A flyer must fly, and a catcher must catch, and the flyer must trust, with outstretched arms, that the catcher will be there for him.”

     We learn from Mary that Easter means letting go and trusting in the Catcher. Easter is about learning to trust the God who will catch us.

AMEN