“God is Good!” by Sylvester Doyer based on Psalm 150.

“Quiet Resurrections” based on Jeremiah 31:1-6 and Matthew 28:1-10

It is really easy to
miss the point of Easter by focusing too much on what happened ~2000
years ago.  There is extensive debate among people who debate such
things about what FORM Jesus’s body took after resurrection, which is
a clear indication that a lot of people miss the point.  However it
was that Jesus’s disciples transformed from the frightened men who
ran away from the cross to the leaders of the developing church who
faced their own persecution with courage, and continued Jesus’s
ministry in their own lives – that thing that happened was
resurrection. They talked about it as Jesus returning to them,
meeting with them, guiding them, explaining things to them.  I have
no idea where the line between metaphor and reality, memory and
presence was in that, nor do I think it matters.  

I think it matters
that they became convinced that not even the Empire’s power of death
– they greatest power the Empire had – held any sway over them.
I think it matters they moved from self-protection to courage.  I
think it matters they moved from scattering to consolidating their
relationships.  I think it matters they moved from the amygdala
response of “danger! Protect self!” to the pre-frontal cortex
questions of “how do we tell the stories of Jesus so others can
hear them?” and “how do we distribute food fairly despite
cultural differences?” and “how much do we take on and how much
do we train other people to do?”  They, themselves, moved from the
fear of death to the fullness of life.  That’s resurrection.  

And the key to all
of it, is that the power of resurrection that moves us from the fear
of death to the fullness of life is a CONTINUAL gift from God that
enriches ALL of our lives, and empowers us in our darkest moments.

Truth be told
though, given the rather hugeness of the original story, everything
else can pale in comparison.  And because of that, I think we
sometimes miss the power of resurrection in our lives, because we’re
looking for things that are bigger and flashier than how God mostly
ends up working.  So, I offer this example from my own life, of what
I’d like to call a “quiet resurrection.”

When I was a kid, in
gym class, we were expected to test for the “Presidential Fitness
Test” every year, and every year I failed the running portions.
Alas, I told myself, “I’m no good at running.”  As I got older, I
continued to fail every running test my physical education teachers
put in front of me.  Eventually my narrative switched to, “I’m just
not in good shape.”  Sure, I did lots of physical activity all the
time, but CLEARLY I was failing, and CLEARLY that was an indication
that I was “not in good shape.”

That story stuck
with me.  By seminary I jogged regularly, but since it was slowly,
and since I still got winded, I told myself “I’m just not in good
shape.”  Later, as I’d climb mountains with friends, I’d be
noticeably the most winded and make jokes about “being in bad
shape.”  It had become part of my identity.

Five years ago,
after Easter, I got a cold.  Truthfully, this is common enough for
pastors and church workers.  The intense work of trying to make Holy
Week and Easter meaningful experiences for our churches means a drop
in adrenaline at the end of it, and then people get sick.  That time,
the cold became a cough.  Normal enough.  A month later I went to the
doctor because the cough just wouldn’t subside.  Sure enough, I had
bronchitis.  But that wasn’t the whole story.  When the PA was
listening to my lungs, “something sounded wrong, more wrong than
just bronchitis.”  After a serious of tests, my doctor named what I
experienced as “exercised induced asthma” and gave me an inhaler
to use before cardio exercise.

At first, this just
felt like a new way of saying I was broken, because I was so deeply
in that frame.  But, what followed was, for me, miraculous.  Suddenly
my workouts were… productive.  I got BETTER.  Also, I could
breathe!  And ever so slowly it occurred to me that the issue hadn’t
been my own failure, a lack of exercise, or not trying hard enough –
even though I’d been telling myself that for decades.  It was simply
physiological.  In fact, it hadn’t even been that I’d been “out of
shape” for all those years.  Rather, I had an undiagnosed condition
that impaired me.

It has taken a
shockingly long time for all of this to penetrate my self talk.  I’d
gotten so used to thinking of myself as an utter athletic failure,
that I’d failed to notice that the goal of adult fitness is to have
ways to move your body that are FUN and also promote health.  When it
comes to that standard, I’m pretty good at being athletic. (Huh,
never said THAT before.)

I’ve heard from many
other people over the years about the impact of diagnosis that feel
similar to this, including in mental health.  Varieties on the theme
of “oh, it isn’t just because I wasn’t trying hard enough” or
“there is a NAME for what I’m struggling with” or “other people
find this hard too, I’m not alone.”  (Of course, not all diagnoses
feel this way, of course.  But some do, and that’s what I’m talking
about.)

So, maybe for some
of you, it will make sense when I say that for me, having a little
inhaler open my lungs so I can exercise, and having that experience
free me from a hurtful narrative about myself, was a significant
experience of resurrection.  It freed me to be try more things, be
more playful, enjoy life more!  Those things matter.

The stories we
tell ourselves about ourselves can be impediments to the rich full
lives that God wants us to live, and they can be impediments to our
responses to God’s calls on us to build the kindom.  Easter is
the story of resurrection, the story of God’s power of LIFE over
death.  We’re so busy telling ourselves and God that “I can’t”
based on stories that aren’t true, that we miss God responding, “Oh
honey, you CAN.”  (God may use different endearments with you.)

Many times in life a
skill or story is important to getting us through a moment – but
the SAME skill or story becomes an impediment to growth later on.
Switching around the way we see something can change our whole
experience of it.  Reframing an experience, or a story can make space
for God’s transforming work in our lives.  

The challenge quite
often is that we don’t see our own framing, which makes it hard to
notice it and consider adapting it.  This is one of the reasons that
therapists are so useful, they’re particularly trained to noticing
and pointing out dated framing.  This is also a reason why we talk to
friends and family – because outside perspective can make a huge
difference in helping us see!  And, I think this is a reason why
contemplative prayer is such a gift in people’s lives.  As we develop
the skills to be quietly present to God and ourselves, as we
disengage from the frantic pace of life, as we allow our thoughts to
slow down – we are MAKING SPACE for grace to move and show us new
ways.

These little, quiet
resurrections may not seem like enough, but that’s only from a human
perspective.  When God is part of one small thing, and another small
thing, those two small things together add up to more than their
parts.  (Aka, God is willing to override the rules of math in God’s
commitment to grace and the kindom.)  When many little resurrections
are added together, lives become more whole, and as lives become more
whole there is more and more space for that abundant life to expand
to more and more people, and more and more of the kindom is built.
What God is up to is definitely enough.

After all, it was
only one resurrection 2000 or so years ago, and we’re still seeing
the rippling effects.  Thanks be to God.  Amen

April 4, 2021

Rev. Sara E. Baron
First United Methodist Church of Schenectady
603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305
Pronouns: she/her/hers
http://fumcschenectady.org/
https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady