Seismic shifts

Matthew 28: 1-10
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
April 9, 2023 – Easter Sunday

Photo of a seismograph with blue, green, red, purple, and black ink in jagged lines.

I cannot talk to you about Easter without first talking about Good Friday. As I once heard it said, “I cannot speak to you about resurrection if you cannot acknowledge that you have died.”



When Jesus died, people felt his loss.



When Jesus died, people were traumatized by his death.



When Jesus died, people wept in anguish.



When Jesus died, people grieved for years afterward.



There were some who felt hopeless and powerless for a long time.



There were some who were never the same again.



We feel this in our own time, with our own grief.



We live in a Good Friday world.



A world of imposed scarcity and the hoarding of wealth.



A world of White supremacy, patriarchy, nationalism, and empire.



A world of violence and dehumanization: anti-trans bills, mass shootings, millions who have died from Covid and the isolation of disabled people, as we move from one conflict or war to the next.



A world in which we make life a living hell for many and create disharmony for the earth.



A world of grief and loss where betrayal, desertion, and crucifixion happen daily, and resurrection and rebirth seem fleeting. A world in which Church and community are dwindling. A world in which Christianity as a religion has harmed as much if not more than it has healed.



Last month I read this tweet and knew I had found Easter:



“Just heard a gay Christian respond to the normal daily harassment by evangelicals with ‘You can’t take away a Jesus that you never gave me’ and that will be sticking in my head for a while.”



‘You can’t take away a Jesus that you never gave me’.



In my witness of Easter, it is the queering of Christianity that will save it.



Where liberals and progressives question and wonder about bodily resurrection, perhaps because our privilege allows us to be skeptics, trans and queer Christians experience it in their flesh. In gender-affirming healthcare, in safety in public space, in laws and policies and communities that not only protect them but allow for flourishing and wholeness.



Where some church folk question and wonder about the presence of God and God’s unlimited, unearned, and unconditional love, trans and queer Christians cannot thrive without it.



Where some of us question and wonder about the cross, about the body and blood of Christ, trans and queer Christians know themselves to be betrayed, deserted, and crucified, and also witness a Christ crucified who was willing to disrupt everything that they might have fullness of life.



Where some of us question and wonder about this Jesus as fully God and fully human, trans and queer Christians find themselves fully embraced in their divinity and in their humanity and are set free.



The Jesus that was and still is claimed by White privilege is the one co-opted by empire. A Jesus that blesses some and condemns others. A Jesus that judges human beings and bases their worth on what they produce. A Jesus that bestows wealth. A Jesus separated from the welfare of children, immigrants, and the disabled. A Jesus whose purpose is to save us for an exclusive heaven rather than show us the way to wholeness. A White Jesus who is victimized and martyred rather than a Jesus victimized and martyred by White supremacy, oppression, and empire.



We are living through nothing less than the death throes of empire Christianity and what could be a new Christianity reborn. It is the shifting of the earth beneath the feet of the women who came to the tomb that gives me hope this Easter. Jesus goes ahead of us and appears where he is needed.



Jesus is in Nebraska lawmakers filibustering the legislative session since February to prevent anti-trans laws from being introduced and passed.



Jesus is in students in Nashville and elsewhere protesting against gun violence.



Jesus is in lawmakers who refuse to be silent in the face of yet another shooting.



Jesus is in states that create safe haven for trans youth, their families, and trans adults.



Jesus is in anyone who has the courage to be themselves. Jesus is in anyone who is in solidarity with those for whom it is not safe to be themselves. Jesus is in the brokenhearted and the wholehearted.



Jesus is in those who hunger for wholeness and justice. Jesus is in every effort to build a world where everyone can live fully.



Jesus is in the shifting earth beneath our feet as the stone that imprisons is rolled away and all who have been oppressed are liberated and made whole.



This Jesus risen from the dead is one who shows us the full love of God lived out in a human life and in a humiliating death, a death that does not have the last word.



‘You can’t take away a Jesus that you never gave me’.

Happy Easter, Church!

Modern icon after a woodcut by Otto Pankok, of Jesus breaking an assault rifle in half over his left knee. Also gives appearance that he is dancing.  He's wearing a long white tunic bound at the waist with blue and gray in the folds and shadows.  Golden lines emanate from around his head and torso.  He stands on brown ground with lines that give it texture and depth. A night sky with stars is behind him. Icon by Kelly Latimore. https://kellylatimoreicons.com/pages/gallery

Benediction



Beloveds, surprise people with your expansive heart
rather than one that is certain of doom.
Throw a curve ball of grace.
Take your anger and fear and wrap them
in a blanket of gentleness, hold them while you weep.
Where the universe is bending toward justice,
give into it, bend with it, and spend your money there.

In the words of the poet Wendell Berry,
“…every day do something that won't compute.
Love the Lord. Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
…Be joyful though you have considered all the facts.”