"ALL THIS IMMENSITY IN A MEASURED WORL­D"

                                       Rev. Jim Petersen 

                        1^st Congregational UCC-Great Falls, MT

                                              3-23-08

         Text: Isaiah 25:6-9;  I Corinthians 15:51-58; Matthew 28:1-10

I know, I know, it is hard to believe it is Easter already. I mean, spring has just sprung. But I can guarantee you that between Thursday, which was the first day of spring, and today, there was a full moon, because that is how we determine when Easter is.  Easter is the first Sunday following the first full moon following the vernal equinox.  Go figure!

Which means earliest Easter can possibly be is March 22. Almost none of you have ever experienced Easter this early before, for the last time Easter was this early was 1913. So only those of you who are 95 or older have done the Easter this early.  (name any - Winnie would've been 5 - still dancing)

And none of us will ever experience Easter this early again.  For the next time Easter falls on March 23 will be 2228, or 220 year from now, and March 22 is even longer away. So if you are a little discombobulated with Easter this year, it is because you have never been this early with Easter before, nor will you again. (birthdays on Easter?)  So that explains it.

The composer Franz Joseph Haydn writes in his cosmic piece, "The Creation," "The heavens are telling the glory of God." Which is not unlike our Easter proclamation, right? "Christ is risen!  Christ is risen indeed!" "The heavens are telling the glory of God." This is really an Easter piece!

Yet, life is not all Easter.  Haydn knew this. He was the second of twelve children born to a humble wagon-maker in a little Austrian village, who at the age of five was shipped off to relatives to ease the family burden, never to return home again.   There were clouds in Haydn­'s sky.

He wrote another famous oratorio called "The Seasons," a secular piece in which the choir sings in the section calle­d,  "Spr­ing,"  "As yet the year is unconfirmed, and oft-returning winter's blast the bud and bloom destroy."

It's not all "Sound of Music" in Haydn's Austria, even in springtime.  Well, like in Montana.

The tulips and daffodils are popping up.  Have you noticed?  Bewar­e, the "oft-returning winter's blast the bud and bloom destroy." Will it be flowers or freeze?  Who know­s?

It's another springtime in Montana.  Another chance or another challenge.  Yet, I guarantee, as in every year, spring will eventually overcome winter.

As Haydn confirms the victory in his "Spring" piece, "The shaggy mountains will stomp their feet, the waves toss high  and clap their wild blue hands."  We just hope not too quickly.  We still have a little skiing to do.

Or as Elizabeth Barrett Browning puts it in a poem, "Earth is crammed with heaven..."  Right here, on earth, springtime tells it all, as the ground greens and animals give birth.  "Earth is crammed with heaven."  It's Easter, my friend­s.

Or as yet another poet pens it, "What shall I do with all this immensity in a measured world?­"

I mean, it's overwhelming, God's creation, especially at springtime, "What shall I do with all this immensity in a measured world?"

This other poet's name is Marina Svetayeva, whose own story adds romance to her writing.  Marina Svetayeva was a Russian poet caught up in the Revolution of 1917.  She was a friend of Boris Pasternak, who wrote Dr. Zhivago.

Some people think it was Marina Svetayeva who was the inspiration for Lara, the heroine of Dr. Zhivago, with the beautiful song, "Lara's T­heme, " played in the movie by the beautiful Julie Christie, which almost convinced me to major in Russian literature.   It was the first movie I ever saw two time­s, the second time as a college student in Austria.

Marina Svetayeva was 18 years old when the Revolution broke out; young, beautiful, aristocratic.  She had already published a book of poetry.  She was a lovely and talented woman.  In 1922, she fled Russia with her husband, her blue blood background placing her life in jeopardy under Lenin's rule. She lived in exile in Eastern Europe until 1939, when at the beginning of World War II she returned to her homeland to be with her family, most of whom were in Soviet prisons or had been execu­ted over the years.

Marina, herself, was sent into exile in Siberia, where, in 1941, she committed suicide.  Her life is about as sad as Dr. Zhivago.  Marina Svetayeva knew all of life was not Easter.  Yet she was able to write, "What shall I do with all this immensity in a measured world?"  A line worthy of an Easter sermon title, and an appropriate introduction to our gospel reading for this Resurrection Sunday.

Matthew joins the other three gospels writers in noting that nobody witnesses the Resurrection.  Matthew even goes further and is the only gospel which tells us the authorities place guards at the tomb to prevent  anybody from stealing the body.  They fear a plot, so the authorities  place Roman soldiers there.

But they are either asleep, or struck unconscious by the  magnitude of it all, which is what Matthew suggests,  or maybe they just blink and it happens. At any rate, they don't see it, the Resurrection. They are like prison guards who discover the pillows under the blanket and the prisoner gone. It is that kind of scene.

Then along came the two Marys to the garden, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, whoever she is.  They are part of the band of faithful who followed Jesus from Galilee to Jerusalem.   A few disciples, a few women, that was about it.   The traveling team.

The women stay with Jesus all the way. They are at the cross, even while the disciples scatter. And they are still around three days later as mourners visiting the grave to properly embalm the body. They are around, but they miss it, too, the Resurrection. Nobody sees it.  The women arrive late. Instead they see an angel sitting on the rock,  who says to them, "Do not be afraid for I know you seek Jesus who was crucified.  He is not here.   He is risen.  Come and see.  Then go quick­ly and tell his disciples that he has risen."

That's about it. Not much detail. No great description. Nobody sees it, really, the Resurrection itself.

It begins with the angel saying, "Do not be afraid." This is interesting, for the last time we heard an angel saying    "Do not be afraid" was way back in the beginning of the story. It's not an accident the angel says, "Do not be afraid," now. We're supposed to make the connection.

Recall the angel appeared to Mary, mother of Jesus, in what is called "The Annunciation" and says to Mary, "Do not be afraid, for the Lord is with you," and then proceeds to lay upon her the pregnancy news. Maybe the "other" Mary at the tomb is Mary,  mother of Jesus.  She's been here before.

Nine months after the Annunciation, an angel appears to the shepherds, keeping their flocks by night, and says, again, "Do not be afraid, for I bring you glad tidings of great joy which shall be to all people."

We see a pattern here, established at the birth story. We are supposed to pick up these patterns and know what they mean when we read the book.  It's a literary device,  and it is a clue to interpreting scripture. Whenever an angel appears in the Gospels and says,  "Do not be afraid," it means, look out, God is about to act in a most unusual, unexpect­ed, hard to understand way, and it's going to be good news, glad tidings of great joy, believe it or not!

So when an angel appears at the tomb and says, "Do not be afraid,"  it means that which happened at the Nativi­ty is happening again at the Resurrection. God is intervening to redeem the world. God is intervening because the world cannot save itself, or at least seems to have little interest in  doing so.

At Christmas the world tried to shut Jesus out, "no room at the inn" and all, so he's born in a stable. On Good Friday the world tries to shut Jesus out again, do away with him on the cross and all, so he is Resurrected from the dead.

What is amazing about all this is not that God intervenes. I mean, give God a break.  This is God's world.  God can intervene whenever God wants. But what is amazing is the way God intervenes.

The fact is, the world back then expected God to intervene, but they expected God to intervene in the person of King David, who was the Hebrew royal Rambo, or in the person of the prophet Elijah, who was the Hebrew Houdini.

But in each instance, at Christmas and then at Easter, God intervenes quietly and gently, through the  heartache of humanity.  God comes not to destroy, but to save; not to put an end to the world,  but to give new life to the world. This is amazing when we think about it. In Easter, like Christmas, God comes meekly,  not with chari­ots of fire, but on the wings of a dove;  not in retribution, but in reconciliation; not with force, but with forgiveness.

And in each event God entrusts the news of what is happening to humble people: to Mary, a peasant girl, and to simple shepherds; and then at Easter, to Mary Magdalene,  a woman of questionable reputation,  and to the other Mary, whoever she is. There are five Marys in the gospels. God comes humbly as to be invisible, incognito,  except to those who are humble or hurting enough  themselves to hear angels saying, "Do not be afraid...for unto you a child is born," or, "Do not be afraid...He is not here.  He is risen."

The bad thing about this good news is we don't get proof.  All we get is leftovers. A little evidence - an empty tomb and some linen cloths. So we are left to make of it what we will.

The authorities, they see the evidence, as they rush over to    discover what they feared might happen, has happened, empty  tomb, linens lying there, and they conclude it is a hoax,  the body stolen, in spite of the guards they placed there. The angel says to them, "Come and see,"  They see and draw their own conclusions. They prefer Good Friday.

It's hard if we want hard evidence.  Nobody sees the  Resurrection happen.  We just discover the empty tomb.  We see the remnants of the Resurrection. Like seeing footprints or tracks, evidence that something happened here.

The empty tomb is historical fact.  Nobody debates this. The Resurrection remains an act of faith.  It takes some doing to believe this.  Because it doesn't fit - "all this immensity in a measured world ."  But here's what happens. While the guards at the tomb "tremble and act like dead men,"  as Matthew tells us, the two Marys are humble enough to hear and be not afrai­d.  Instead of playing dead, they come to life and do as the angel commands,  "Go quickly, now, and tell the disciples."

What follows is all the proof we get. To be sure, it is more traces than certitude, but it is also all the proof we need.

The women tell the disciples about the empty tomb and the angel. The disciples do not know what to make of this. It doesn't fit into their Good Friday world either. They are not sure, not completely.  Some of them doubt.  Which is O.K.

But they do know this: their world has changed and will never be the same again.  What Jesus preached, and taught us to pray, "Thy Kingdom come ,"  has come,  like the first rays of light dawning upon a new day.

It doesn't fit, "all this immensity," and yet, faithfully,  the disciples begin to live as if the new day is here.   They begin to live as if the Kingdom has come. And in their living they experience the Risen Lord. Which we can't prove, but which their lives give evidence to, in that:

1) They live with an irrepressible JOY. In fact, they rejoiced in the most inappropriate places,  like in prison cells, and at most inappropriate times, like when burning at stakes and during stonings, as if to taunt "death where is thy sting?"

And it makes all the difference in their lives and in the Live Jesus, the tomb cannot contain their "enthusiasm,"  which is a Greek word from en = in and theos = God. The disciples begin to live "in God."  Joyfully.

2) The disciples are more FAITHFUL than the occasion warrants.   All the evidence in the first century pointed to despair. By all appearances this was a Good Friday world. The smart people, the sophisticated people, are pessimistic. They preach things like, "The fates are capricious and the gods are indifferent."

But the Christians are faithful.  They say crazy things like,  "If God is for us, who can be against us?"

3) Furthermore, the first Christians create a COMMUNITY that is different than the rest of the world.  In the rest of the world, laws and customs separate people into groups of permanent placement and class.  It had always been this way.

But the church changes this.  It is a new community,  where "there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, but where all are one in Christ."   Talk about radical! The church believes God wants it this way. We can be thankful for this.

4) And finally, most noticeable among these early Christians,  is their amazing HOPE.  In spite of what would be for others insurmountable grief, the disciples look forward to the day when all the earth will be one symphony singing Haydn 's "Creation," "The heavens are telling the glory of God."

No, we can't prove the Resurrection. But neither can we deny the history of the world was changed because a couple of ladies believed an angel, and because a few disciples believed the ladies.

Instead of looking at the world through Good Friday lenses,  they put on new spectacles, and saw the world with faith, hope and joy.  In spite of the cross, or because of the cross, they could see "The earth is crammed with heaven."

Yes, with their Easter spectacles they could see "all this immensity in a measured world." And they began to live in a new way, creating a new community, called the church.

We are the church today, the community of faith, hope and joy,  which keeps alive the message that beyond the cold winters and dry summers of this Good Friday world is the unchang­ing, unconquerable and unending love of God in Jesus Christ the Risen Lord.

May your life give witness to the glory of God. Which, by the way, is the answer to the church's short­est catechism.

Q.: What is the chief end of being human?

A.: To glorify God and to enjoy God forever.

I still recall a conversation I had with a mortician who was down in Oklahoma City assisting in the funeral homes following the infamous bombing there. He told me of the funeral of Ben Johnson.

Ben Johnson was in the basement when the building blew.   In his car.  One hundred million tons of concrete rained down around him, but miraculously not upon him.   Ben Johnson's car was untouched.  But he was trapped. They found Ben on the sixteenth day.  They figure he died on the fourteenth day from dehydration.

Ben had a cellular phone in his car. While in the basement he was able to call his wife and talk for 6 ½ hours until the batteries ran out. The mortician told me he asked Mrs. Johnson,  "What did you talk about ?"

Mrs. Johnson replied, they said all the things they should have been saying for the last twenty plus years of their marriage.  She said, it was a real shame it took this tragedy for them to say the things that really mattered and were important.

My friends, all of our batteries are running out.  You will never see Easter on March 23 again.  While we still have some juice,  let us ­glori­fy God and love one another.  HAPPY EASTER!