Easter Sermon from Jerusalem

Alleluia, Christ is risen! 

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Easter morning 2020

Jerusalem

The Rev. Carrie Ballenger

Redeemer Lutheran Church, Jerusalem

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and Jesus Christ, the Risen Lord. Amen!

Just a few days ago I was sitting here in my garden, enjoying the sunshine and the flowers (and working on this sermon) when I started to hear singing. I stopped and tried to make out the words.

I soon realized it was the prayers of the Orthodox Jewish community behind my house, celebrating the first day of the Pesach holiday. Normally I wouldn’t have heard them, but the quiet of a Shabbat—and the strict curfew Jerusalem has been under for the past week—meant that their prayers were wafting over rooftops and walls and into my garden.

A bit later, their prayers were joined by party sounds from my Muslim neighbors. They had put on some Arabic dance music while washing cars and caring for the chickens that live on the other side of my garden wall.

The chaos of it all made me smile. I love Jerusalem for exactly this kind of chaos—and I thought about how soon, my Easter Alleluias would be joining the mix, soaring over the same garden walls to reach my neighbors on Sunday morning.

Join me now, wherever you are, saying: Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia!

Dear friends in Christ, the truth is that this Easter is one mixed with both joy and lament, and so I’ll tell you that my smile was soon interrupted. Suddenly I was feeling the pain of knowing that the faithful in nearly every place will be shouting their Alleluias from within the walls of our homes, behind closed doors, under curfew, and without our beloved church communities.

But you know what?

That moment of lament didn’t last too long, because I remembered that this is not the first time the church in this place has proclaimed the resurrection of Christ from behind a wall. This is not the first Easter when Palestinian Christians couldn’t travel, or their freedom was restricted. And still, for more than 2,000 years, in spite of many challenges, the faithful in this land have shouted and sung their “Alleluias” loud enough to sail over walls, through checkpoints, and beyond barriers, to bless the Lord and to bless us all. I’m so grateful for what I’ve learned from my sisters and brothers in this place about what it means to be Easter people.

Of course, Palestinians Christians are not the only ones who have proclaimed the Resurrection from behind walls or in places of limited freedom. Prisoners, refugees, slaves, and those living under religious persecution also know what it means to shout “Alleluia, Christ is risen” from within tomb-like situations. There are so many saints who have walked this path before us, so many who know that it is more than possible—it is imperative—that we sing praises to God in every situation. We have a great cloud of witnesses who are with us in proclaiming that because Christ is raised, we have already been liberated from sin and death, indeed from anything that keeps us from life, and life abundant.

But I think that in order for us to do this, in order to proclaim resurrection and liberation in the chaotic, often oppressive and sometimes painful here and now, we must develop a new relationship with the walls and obstacles in our paths—whatever they may be.

We must put them in their place.

For this reason, I love the Matthew version of the Resurrection story which we heard this morning. In this account, the Gospel writer starts right off with addressing the issue of how Easter people are to relate to the walls, barriers, obstacles, sufferings, and the powers and principalities present in our world today.

It’s right there at the beginning of chapter 28, when Mary Magdalene and the other Mary go to the tomb early in the morning. As it is written, suddenly there was an earthquake, for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. (Matthew 28:2)

The angel rolled back the stone and SAT. ON. IT.

It’s a small detail, and yet I can’t stop thinking about it.

First, it’s important to note that it took an actual angel to roll back the stone blocking the entrance to the tomb – which tells us the resurrection of Jesus was no trick. This was not some plot by the disciples, to come and steal Jesus’ body in the night. No, that stone was some heavy stuff. It was formidable. It was serious. It required an earthquake and an angel of the Lord for that stone to be rolled back! Which reveals to us that Jesus wasn’t stolen, and he didn’t escape. He was raised from death to life by the power of a loving God. Alleluia!

Again: The angel of the Lord came and rolled back that heavy stone and SAT. ON. IT.

There’s so much heavy stuff in our path, and they seem equally formidable and unmovable: the wall separating Israel and Palestine. The ever-present stones of worry, loneliness, and grief. The spreading plagues of white supremacy, patriarchy, poverty, and war.

And, of course, COVID-19, a massive stone that currently has us locked down, stuck behind walls, and which seems to have taken over our lives, our livelihoods, even our churches. The leaders of the nations are trying to address the crisis (some better than others) but I sense a nagging fear that maybe, just maybe, this virus—this ugly stone—will keep us locked in the tomb, or at least in our homes, forever.

But our loving God has already answered this fear. God answered us when that angel in white descended from heaven, and the earth shook, and the stone rolled back from the tomb of Jesus—and he put it in its place: UNDER HIS ANGELIC BACKSIDE. Amen!  

Those things we think are immovable? Those powers and principalities we think can never be overcome? Those crises we worry will write the story of our lives? They are nothing more than a resting place for angel of the Lord. A place for him to sit. Through God, all your fears, your sorrows, and your struggles, all those heavy things become a podium from which the Good News of life, love, and liberation are proclaimed.

And that’s exactly what happened on that first Easter morning. As it is written, the angel dressed in white SAT ON THE STONE blocking the tomb where Jesus was laid. He put that stone in its place and announced to Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, “Do not be afraid. I know you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here! For he has been raised, as he said.” Alleluia!

And this is why we are able to praise God at all times, even from behind walls, and even in the midst of a global crisis—because we know that in raising Christ from the tomb, a loving God has put all that heavy stuff in its place. Even death.

I want to say: I know that for many, Coronavirus is not just a heavy thing. It’s the worst thing. Maybe it’s your worst thing, because someone you love has died. Or because you or someone close to you is sick. Or because your job is at risk. I’m so, so sorry. There are no words, there is no sermon, that can make this all just go way.

But on this day, as heavy as it all is, I hope each of you hears the message of that angel, assuring us that the worst thing is never the last thing. 

The worst thing is never the last thing, because Christ is raised and has conquered sin and death, once and for all.

You know, I have often preached the phrase “Death does not have the last word”, but I don’t know that I’ve ever felt that Good News in my bones as much as I do right now, in this time, and on this particular Easter Sunday.

Death does not have the last word.

Walls do not have the last word.

Coronavirus does not have the last word.

God does!

God has the last word, and that word is life.

Dear friends in Christ, let the first and last words on our lips be words of life and love. May we always find new ways to proclaim the Good News of the Resurrection through acts of love and kindness. And from across the world, over every wall and across every barrier, let these words be heard today and every day:

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia!