The Last Laugh

Do we laugh on Easter Sunday? Isn't it too serious for that? When Easter falls on April Fool's Day, maybe we can look at Easter as a trick that God played on Death -- a trick that loosed us all from Death once and for all! I think that this just might be the case...

Today is an odd combination of days: it’s not only Easter Sunday, it’s April Fool’s Day, too! Those two days don’t seem to belong together, do they? While Easter Sunday is the most joyful, triumphant day in the whole Christian year, April Fool’s Day is another kind of day altogether, a day when people play all kinds of silly tricks on one another. I can’t help but remember the days when I was a young mother; and on April Fool’s Day, my daughters would tell me, “Mommy, your shoelace is untied!” Then they would laugh and laugh; because, of course, it wasn’t untied at all. I would laugh, too, and say, “Oh, you tricked me!” even though I knew exactly what they were doing. April Fool’s Day laughter is best when it is silly laughter that doesn’t hurt anybody or anything. Other times, though, April Fool’s Day laughter is embarrassed laughter because a prank has worked really well, and the victim has fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. But all too often, the laughter is scornful and jeering because the prank is cruel, and the victim is ridiculed. That kind of April Fool’s Day laughter isn’t pleasant at all.

But there is another kind of laughter that is very different from April Fool’s Day laughter. It floats on the breeze of Easter morning; and it isn’t silly or embarrassed or scornful. Easter laughter is the deep, delighted laughter that bubbles up from the very foundation of our souls. Easter laughter is laughing and crying all at the same time because we can’t believe our good fortune. Easter laughter is laughing with such joy that our shoulders shake and our stomach starts to hurt and our eyes get all squinty and tear-filled because what we thought was just a crazy dream has turned out to be true, after all!

Easter laughter started with Abraham’s wife Sarah! You remember Sarah. She and Abraham had waited for years for the sound of little feet toddling around in the nursery. After all, God had promised Abraham that he would have a son! But time went by, and no child was born. Sarah eventually needed to buy hearing aids and dentures, and Abraham’s footsteps became very slow. Sarah finally threw away all the catalogs for baby clothes and nursery furniture, and gave up all hope that she would ever need them. One day, though, God dropped by for a visit and told them that their baby was finally on the way. Abraham just politely smiled behind his hand at this ridiculous idea; but Sarah was listening to the conversation from behind the door, and her hearing aids were working very well that day. The idea of Medicare picking up the tab for the maternity ward made her laugh so hard that her dentures fell out and rolled across the floor. Have a baby? At her age? She probably thought that this was God’s idea of a joke – and a very painful one, at that! Sarah’s laughter might have been scornful on that long-ago day; but when that baby was born, her scorn turned into Easter laughter. Sarah and Abraham named that baby Isaac, a name that means “laughter.”

The very best Easter laughter, though, waited for more than a thousand years after the time of Sarah and Abraham. We didn’t hear it until Death thought that he had finally defeated even God! You know that story, too. After Jesus was crucified on Good Friday, Death welcomed him to the realm of the dead with a sneer and a mocking bow. Death locked the door behind them and put the big, fat key ring back on his belt, saying, “Make yourself at home! You’ll be here for a long, long time!” And then Death celebrated with all the demons in Hell, because he finally had Jesus in his cold clutches: Jesus, the one who hadn’t fallen for any of the Devil’s temptations and cast out demons from their victims. The Devil hadn’t been able to capture Jesus; but Death had defeated him at last. So Death and all the demons in Hell ate and drank and laughed the scornful, jeering laughter that the chief priests and the Roman soldiers laughed while Jesus was hanging on the cross. In fact, they celebrated so much that when Death finally went to bed, he slept all day Saturday and didn’t wake up again until Sunday morning! When Death finally opened his eyes, he had a roaring hangover; and something didn’t seem quite right. He groped at his belt to make sure that his key ring was safe; but, to his horror, it wasn’t there! Death hurried to his prison to make sure that all the dead were still securely locked in; but when he arrived, he saw the very last one of them dancing out the prison door on their way to freedom. And there stood Jesus, casually twirling Death’s key ring around his finger. Death grabbed for the keys, but he wasn’t nearly quick enough. “Oh, no,” said Jesus, “These keys belong to me now,” and he turned and followed the dead out of the prison. While Death was sleeping off his celebration over here, Jesus had taken his keys and freed all the dead over there! That’s why we hear Easter laughter floating on the breeze of Easter morning. It’s the laughter of all those who are finally free from the clutches of Death. It’s the laughter of all those who have been saved by the grace of Jesus Christ. It’s your laughter and my laughter!

But we don’t always laugh, do we? We’re so often like the women who came to the tomb on Easter morning and poked around in its dark and dust and musty air, when all that time Jesus was out in the sunshine, filling his resurrected lungs with fresh, sweet morning air and enjoying the song of a meadowlark. We insist on mourning Jesus’ death, when Christ is risen! Why in the world do we mourn? If Death couldn’t keep Jesus in a tomb, why do we think that anything else can keep him there, either? Nothing in this world or the next can keep Jesus in that tomb, not violence or hate or sickness or suffering or famine or accidents or dictators or terrorists. Our world is certainly full of tragedies, and we weep as often as we laugh. But the good news is that weeping isn’t the end. Through God’s love, Christ has defeated everything that might cause us to weep.

The women who went to the tomb on that first Easter morning couldn’t wait to share their joy with Jesus’ disciples. And while the others didn’t understand what had happened right away, when they met the risen Christ themselves, they laughed, too. God’s plan is that everyone, everywhere will eventually join in that Easter laughter. After all, the one who laughs last, laughs best; and God has gotten the last laugh! So let’s go tell everybody that because God played the very best April Fool’s joke on Death, Death’s power is gone, once and for all. Because Christ is risen, we will be, too! And that, my friends, is no joke! Thanks be to God!

Sacrificing Security

Palm Sunday is all about Jesus' entry into Jerusalem. We focus on the crowds who followed him so eagerly; but we usually don't focus on the risk that he was taking. This sermon explores those risks, and what they mean for us.

This is the month of madness – March Madness! For those of you who aren’t sports fans, March Madness is the NCAA tournament that decides the college basketball National Champion. March Madness is the holy grail for college basketball fans: 67 games played over three weeks’ time, involving the very best teams! Some years, the winners are exactly who the experts predicted. Other years, though, a Cinderella team comes along and upsets one of the big guys. That happened this year. A little team that nobody had ever heard of – the team from the University of Maryland, Baltimore County, a school that is known for their excellent chess team – defeated the top-ranked University of Virginia in the first round of the tournament. College basketball junkies were delighted, the team from UMBC was overjoyed, and the TV commentators had something to talk about for days! And Virginia, the team they beat – well, nobody much mentioned them, except to note that they will go down in history as the only top-ranked team that lost in the tournament’s first round, a mighty Goliath falling to UMBC’s David.

All this doesn’t have much to do with Palm Sunday, except for a very insightful comment that University of Virginia men’s basketball coach Tony Bennett made on the night that his team went down to defeat. As his team mourned their loss, Coach Bennett said something like this in an interview with the press (It’s not a direct quote, but it’s close): “Whenever you go out into the arena, there is a risk that you might lose. Nothing is guaranteed. If you’re not willing to assume that risk, then you don’t belong on the basketball court.” Indeed. There is no security to be found in sports, even if you're a top-ranked team playing a little team that no one has every heard of. As Coach Bennett reminded us, nothing is a sure thing.

That’s a very good thing to remember on this Palm Sunday. Nothing is risk-free, secure, or guaranteed. Jesus knew that very well when he set the events of Holy Week in motion. He knew that entering Jerusalem in the way that he did was guaranteed to get the attention of the Roman authorities; and they didn’t take kindly to anyone who challenged the power of Rome. Today, we don’t see anything threatening about a peasant prophet riding into town on a donkey; but every Jew in Jesus’ day knew that he was announcing himself as the Messiah. Because cheering crowds followed him, he offered a direct challenge to Rome’s authority. His little ride carried plenty of risk! And it didn’t end there. After Jesus had challenged Rome with his little parade, he infuriated the Jewish leaders by disrupting sales in the Temple! Jesus threatened both the political and the religious leaders in the places that hurt the most: their power and their wallet. Those leaders reacted the way that today’s leaders would if someone were to gather a group of followers, declare political independence, and blow up the Vatican! They decided that Jesus must be stopped at all costs. Jesus courageously sacrificed any security that he may have had when he rode into Jerusalem on a donkey and attacked the Temple on that first Palm Sunday.

But most of us aren’t as brave as Jesus was. We don’t like taking risks. We hang on like Super Glue to anything that makes us feel secure! Our security may be the money that we have in the bank, a comfortable place to live, or a cherished tradition. The reality is, though, that we don’t really have any security except in God. Banks can go broke, a home can be a victim of fire, flood or tornado, and traditions can become confining instead of life-giving. The only thing that we can absolutely count on is God! If that makes you a little nervous, it shouldn’t. It should, instead, give us the freedom to take all kinds of risks for the kingdom of God! Now, I’m not advising you to behave foolishly. The Bible warns us again and again to live with wisdom! But that wisdom sometimes advises us to move out of our comfort zone and sacrifice some of our security for a much greater gain.

Let me give you an example of what I’m talking about. Back in January, as Fred and I were traveling back to Ohio from our yearly Florida vacation, I stumbled across an article in the Chattanooga, Tennessee Times Free Press (January 20, 2018) about the historically black Lookout Mountain First Baptist Church. The congregation has existed for over 100 years at its original location on Lookout Mountain in Chattanooga. It has worshipped in a beautiful, historic building that was located in an area where the median household income is nearly $120,000. But over the years, its Sunday attendance has dropped from over 100 to only about two dozen. So last year, the congregation decided to move to the inner city. They are now located in an area where the median income is less than $50,000. We would call it “the bad part of town.” But the congregation is growing. Five new families have joined the church since it moved last July, and the congregation is anticipating adding many more. In fact, they are so optimistic that they plan to renovate the building in their new location right away and install a full kitchen, something that the facility now lacks.

This congregation is taking all kinds of risks. They took a risk in moving away from their historic location into a place where there are few resources and much need. They are taking a risk in renovating an old building without guaranteed funds. They are planning to take even more risks as they begin new ministries in their new location. Now, we could focus on all those risks, and judge that this congregation is foolish to sacrifice all their security in this move. But if you ask one of them, you would find that they don’t see it that way at all! They see taking all these risks as just a part of their Christian witness; and they are glad to be able to do it.

Every now and then, we need to be reminded that Jesus never said, “Make sure that your life is safe and secure.” What he said was, “Follow me.” When a would-be disciple once offered to follow Jesus, he replied bluntly, “The Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” (Matthew 8:20) That’s what we’re getting into when we decide to call Jesus our King! Following Jesus means giving up all the security that we think we have, and accepting the risk of giving our lives to a Messiah who rejects political influence and doesn’t hesitate to get in the faces of holier-than-thou religious phonies. Following Jesus means risking everything by confronting the power of politics and commerce with the power of God’s love. So, on this Palm Sunday morning, we witness the crowds acclaiming Jesus as the Messiah, we see Rome scowling, we watch the Jewish leaders fuming, and we know what Jesus is risking. In the end, he will risk everything on our behalf. The question that is before all of us right now is, “What will we risk for him?”

Where Are You Looking?

This Lenten sermon tackles pride -- not the healthy pride that rejoices in blessings, but the toxic pride that looks down on other folks. If you're not sure which kind you have, I hope that this sermon will help you figure it out.

What are you looking at right now? If you respond that you’re looking at me, or at the PowerPoint image on the wall, or at the cross on the wall of the sanctuary, I’ll be happy; because that means you’re paying attention to what’s going on in worship. What you look at is where your attention is directed! Magicians take advantage of that all the time. While they invite you to look over here, they are doing something else over there. When they reveal what they have done, we are astonished, and say, “It’s magic!” But they haven’t really done magic at all; they have only distracted our attention away from their actions. As Christians, we want to pay attention to God, so we look in God’s direction. That’s what Lent is all about: we spend 40 days paying attention to God so that we can stay as close to God t possible. So far during Lent, I’ve preached about several things that separate us from God: apathy, violence, anxiety, and judgment. But there’s one more that’s just as powerful as these; and that’s pride.

Now, at first glance, pride doesn’t seem to be so bad. We’re all proud of something: ourselves, our friends, our children, and our grandchildren. Is pride really a bad thing? Well, no… and yes. Pride that rejoices in blessings, whether those blessings are our own or ones that someone else enjoys, is a wonderful kind of pride, because it invites others into the celebration. “Rejoice with me,” says the woman in Luke’s parable who found her lost coin (15:8-10), “for I have found what was lost!” But pride can be twisted so that it rejoices only in one’s own status and accomplishments. Suddenly we’re not looking up at God, but down at the people who haven’t done as well as we have. We start to believe that we are better than all those other people. Then it’s only one small step to the mistaken belief that we deserve more than they do. And that, friends, divides us from both one another and from God. Christian writer C.S. Lewis was of the opinion that, “A proud man is always looking down on… people; and, of course, as long as you are looking down, you cannot see something that is above you.” That’s the reason that pride can be such a problem: the something above us is God.

All we have to do is to see the toxic effects of pride is to look at this morning’s scripture reading (Luke 18:9-14). The Pharisee was proud of himself – and he had good reason to be! He had been blessed with an education that enabled him to hold a high status in society as a religious professional. He had worked hard to get where he was! Of course, he was proud; anybody would be! But just listen to his prayer: “God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.” He might as well just come right out and say it: “Look how great I am, God! I’m so religious that I do even more than I need to! I’m not like these other people!” I can just see him standing by himself so that he wasn’t dirtied by the other people who were there – all those lesser people. That, my friends, is toxic pride!

The tax collector, on the other hand, had nothing at all to be proud of. Everybody hated tax collectors! They not only collected taxes for the Romans, they also kept a cut for themselves; and the more they collected, the bigger that their cut was. But we need to remember why this man was a tax collector. Tax collectors usually worked for the Romans because they had no other way to provide for their families. They didn’t want to be tax collectors! They hated what they were doing; and many of them hated themselves, too. That’s the reason why, while the Pharisee prayed proudly, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people,” the tax collector mumbled, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner!” So… who was looking where? It’s a great irony that the tax collector, who was looking down in shame, was actually looking up to God; while the Pharisee, whose head was lifted in prayer, was actually looking down on everyone around him!

But how can we keep our eyes lifted to God and stop looking down at other people? How can we get rid of our toxic pride and begin to practice humility? The sainted Mother Teresa offered a few suggestions for doing just that. Here are a few of her suggestions.

·         Speak as little as possible about yourself.

·         Keep busy with your own affairs, not the affairs of others.

·         Do not dwell on the faults of others.

·         Accept criticism, even if it is unmerited.

·         Do not seek to be admired or loved.

Those are hard things to do, aren’t they? Very few people can follow suggestions like those. But they are good suggestions, all of them ways that we can move our attention away from looking down on other people, and lift our eyes back to God.

Maybe the best advice to follow if we want to get our attention off ourselves and back to God is simply this: If we start thinking of ourselves more highly than we should, we should take a look at the cross of Jesus Christ. Jesus never took his eyes off God for even a minute! If anyone had a right to be proud, it was Jesus; but he never looked down on other people, he only looked up to God! In his letter to the Philippians, Paul quoted an early church hymn that says exactly that (2:6-8): Even though Jesus was the very nature of God, he did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage. Rather, he made himself nothing by taking the nature of a slave, being born in human likeness. He humbled himself by becoming obedient to death— even death on a cross! He is the example that we should be following.

Where are you looking right now? Are you looking down on other people, or are you looking up at God? Are you worrying about whether you are better than other people, or are you following the example of Jesus? As we move ever closer to the pageantry of Palm Sunday, the horror of Good Friday, and the celebration of Easter, I invite you to keep your eyes focused on the cross of Jesus Christ. In the end, it’s the only way to experience the power and the glory of Easter morning!