We don’t
like the darkness. Our sense of sight fools us into thinking that we are in
control of events taking place around us; and that sense of sight is impaired
in the darkness. It reminds us that any control we think we have is largely an
illusion. The darkness makes us feel alone and lost. Oh, no, we don’t like the
darkness.
But the
darkness is where life always begins. Scientists believe that life on earth
began in the darkness of a primeval ocean, when the Spirit of God touched a
glob of chemicals, and they began to reproduce themselves. Jesus’ earthly life
began in the darkness of Mary’s womb, when the Spirit of God overshadowed her,
and the power of the Divine created life where no life should have been. Jesus’
resurrected life began in darkness, too – in the darkness of a borrowed tomb,
sealed by a stone that blocked the entrance of any glimmer of light – when that
same Spirit of God took him by the hand and raised him up, breaking the chains
of death.
Is it
possible that any real birth begins in the darkness? When the Spirit of God
works the most powerfully, it is in the midst of oppression, suffering, and
despair. The Spirit of God worked in the land of Egypt, freeing the ancient
Hebrews from the darkness of slavery. The Spirit of God worked in the heart of
the king of Persia, inspiring him to allow the Israelites to return to their
own country after 60 long years in the darkness of exile. In our own country, the
Spirit of God worked in the life of Martin Luther King, moving him to risk his
life working for justice for African-Americans who suffered the darkness of
segregation. The Spirit of God still works in our own lives wherever there is
darkness, bringing hope out of despair and new life out of death.
That life
refuses to stay in the darkness! Life always moves toward the light as if it
knows that is where it belongs! Flowers grow towards the light as they stretch
their blooms towards the sun. Jesus was born from Mary’s womb into the starlight
that changed into daylight with the dawn. The resurrected Christ emerged from
his tomb into the starlight, too, before dawn had broken on that first Easter
Sunday morning; but with the dawn came the awesome realization that the Light
of the world was alive forevermore! Once again, although life began in the
darkness, it refused to stay there.
This
morning, I’m going to share with you a meditation that was recently written by
Rev. David Long-Higgins, the Conference Minister of our own United Church of Christ Heartland
Conference. He eloquently describes Easter morning as a movement from the darkness
to the light. The words in italics are his.
I have always been struck by how John’s
retelling of the resurrection narrative begins: “…while it was still dark…Mary
comes…the stone is moved away from the entrance to the tomb.” It seems to me
there is a gift in this description that lends itself to our own discoveries of
the power of resurrection. In the monastic life of prayer this emergence of
light is called the hour of lauds. It is that moment when we receive the gift
of the new day at sunrise, discovering not something separate from the
darkness, but in continuity with it. It is a discovery that even in darkness,
maybe especially in darkness, God has been at work readying creation for a new
beginning. So, resurrection begins while it is still dark. Life expresses
itself with an eager longing before the eye can distinguish the forms which
will offer shape to the day. You may have noticed that sometimes it is the ear
that recognizes this holy emergence before the eye can apprehend it. Jesus
appears to Mary and she does not recognize him until he calls her by name.
I wonder if you have ever noticed that birds
begin their singing long before the sun showers the earth in light. It is
almost as if these little angels announce the profound re-awakening of life
through which God’s love has the power to move and make all things new. John’s
text reminds us that such new beginnings have openings that are often
surprising to the extent that sometimes we are driven to fear before we are
drawn to awe. Our expectations interrupted, we are stopped in such a way that
we begin to notice life in great depth. All of this is part of resurrection’s
power and gift, made known to us profoundly in the experience of Jesus and his
followers. But this motion of resurrection continues, even now…especially now.
This can be particularly important to notice in this time of the COVID 19
pandemic. Yes, there have been deaths and the terrible grief which accompanies
them. Yes, there has been a kind of entombment which sheltering at home has
fostered in our hearts and minds. But there is something more. There is in all
of this darkness an urge toward life and connection, generosity and grace.
There is a song in the air, if you rise early enough and listen patiently
enough, that resonates not just in the ear but also in the heart. It dares to
whisper and then shout, “I love you! You belong to me! I will never leave you
alone!”
Yes, the sun rises [in the sky]. Yes, the
Son rises [from the grave]! Yes, there is a rising all around us. Let us pause
to savor it and dare again and again to trust the ancient story that is making
itself new with every flower, every bird, every word that utters the sacred
refrain, “Christ is risen! Christ is risen, indeed!”
Christ is
risen! The darkness of oppression and greed, suffering and death have all done
their worst, and they have lost the battle. One of my favorite Easter hymns
proclaims, “The strife is o’er, the battle done; the victory of life is won!
All glory to the risen Son! Alleluia!” From darkness to light, from death to
life, from grief to joy – this is the story of Easter morning. And we can see
it told again wherever the Spirit moves, because that is the work of the Spirit
– to create life out of death, to create hope out of despair, to shower grace
like refreshing spring rain! Christ is risen! Christ is risen, indeed! Thanks
be to God!
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