Fear and Joy?

A Sermon preached on April 16^th, Easter Day, at St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden

Acts 10:34-43, Colossians 3:1-4, Matthew 28:1-10

“They left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy.” (Matthew 28:8)

How can you be both fearful and joyful at the same time? Isn’t that a contradiction? Well yes, but then Easter is full of contradictions. We started Holy Week with Jesus’ triumphant procession into Jerusalem. Shouts of Hosanna filled the streets, but they soon turned sour. Along with praise-filled shouts of “Alleluia,” the whole story of Easter also includes shouts of conflict and hate; of fear and pain; of confusion and misunderstanding. Just like life really.

It is all very well for the angel to say, “Do not be afraid,” but Mary Magdalene and “the other Mary” and all the disciples had many good reasons to be afraid. They had seen their leader, teacher, friend, beloved, murdered by the state … that is what an execution, any execution is by the way. And they were worried they might be next. They were also deeply disappointed. Where is the kingdom of God? The Romans are still here – there were even two of them guarding Jesus’ tomb.  Immediately before the two Mary’s left the tomb, they had experienced an earthquake, an angel of the Lord descending from heaven, and the guards shaking and becoming like dead men. Who would not be afraid? I would.

“Do not be afraid” was the theme of our Parish Lenten retreat just a couple of weeks ago. We talked about a lot of good reasons to be afraid. Personal ones …. I can’t claim that I am looking forward to being operated on next month. The world: it’s a dangerous place right now. And of course fear fulfills a positive function, fear protects us, it forces us to take action, to flee or to fight a danger. 

The trouble with fear is that it also can immobilize us, cause us to withdraw behind real or metaphorical walls, or worse of all, even leads us to hate what we fear. Thankfully, we see none of these reactions from the two women at the tomb. They are not immobilized, they leave quickly and not because they are running away, but because they are following the angel’s instructions to “go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead’.” (Matthew 28:7) They are fulfilling a commission from God – even though they are afraid.

What is driving them to do this, what drives us to fulfill God’s commission? Not fear, but great joy! They are driven by faith, hope, and love. They don’t know that Jesus is risen, but they are prepared to believe the angel that that is why the tomb is empty, that he has been raised from the dead as Jesus had promised them. They are hopeful that they will see Jesus again in Galilee, together with all the other disciples. And they are full of love for Jesus. It was love that enabled them to stand at the foot of the cross when he died, it was love that brought them to the tomb, to mourn, and it is love that sends them on their way. Their joy of anticipation becomes an immediate and very present joy. The two Mary’s do not have to wait until they are in Galilee. Jesus meets them there and then, and they are so overwhelmed by their emotions that they fall down at his feet and worship him. 

We have three Baptisms today, of Anne, Jonathan and their daughter Ida. Everything we have been talking about, fear, joy, and commissioning all come together in the ceremony of Baptism. It is the means by which we participate now, symbolically, both in Jesus’ death and in his resurrection. In his letter to the Romans, Paul says “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?” (Romans 6:3) In his letter to the Colossians that we heard read earlier, Paul also talks of the faithful as already having died, but he also says that “you have been raised with Christ.” (Colossians 3:1, 3)

Just occasionally I’m jealous of Baptist ministers. Sometimes in the summer, or when I have to carry my multiple vestments to an ecumenical service, I think how nice it would be just to have to wear a suit. And sometimes I’m jealous of their baptismal pools. We baptize here by pouring water on the candidates’ heads. They baptize by full immersion – and it is when you are pulled completely under water that you realize that Baptism symbolizes drowning. So shall we pop across the road to the lake in the park? We don’t need to of course. In our Baptism here too, we pray that the candidates “are cleansed from sin and born again to continue for ever in the risen life of Jesus Christ our Savior.” Anne, Jonathan, and Ida will be commissioned to join us in living lives of faith, hope, and love.  I cannot promise that they will not know fear, but I can promise them, you, and me great joy. 

In the reaction of the two Mary’s at that first Easter, we see fear and joy, disappointment and hope, desperation and determination, and we know that they are parts of all our lives. The Resurrection allows us to overcome fear, disappointment, and despair. The Resurrection of our Lord Christ is God’s sign, proof, and promise that faith, hope, and love will ultimately prevail!

Alleluia. Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia.

Why remember?

A Sermon preached on April 13^th, Maundy Thursday, at St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden

Exodus 12:1-4, (5-10), 11-14; Psalm 116:1, 10-17; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-17, 31b-35

I have been seeing doctors rather more often than I am used to and like to do over the past few months. You know why! I was surprised to discover them using a word of Greek origin, anamnesis, in their written diagnosis. This refers, and I quote, to “information gained by a physician by asking specific questions, usually of the patient, with the aim of obtaining information useful in formulating a diagnosis and providing medical care.” The original Greek word just means "reminiscence." 

Why am I telling you this? Well anamnesis is also a word we use in church, well church nerds like me do. It refers to that part of the Eucharist where we recall God's saving deeds, which in the Eucharistic Prayer follows right after the Words of Institution. In today’s version of the Eucharistic Prayer I will say: “Father, we now celebrate this memorial of our redemption. Recalling Christ's death and his descent among the dead, proclaiming his resurrection and ascension to your right hand, awaiting his coming in glory; and offering to you, from the gifts you have given us, this bread and this cup, we praise you and we bless you.”[1]

Fine, but what does this have to do with Maundy Thursday, I hear you ask. Well one thing we celebrate at this service is the institution of the Eucharist, Mass, Holy Communion, or Last Supper. We heard two versions of it earlier. One from Paul in his letter to the Corinthians: “For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread etc.” (1 Cor. 11:23), and one from John who focuses less on the meal and more on the accompanying act of humble service, of foot washing: “And during supper Jesus, …. got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself … poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet.” (John 13:2-5) 

But this use of anamnesis in the Eucharist is not the only connection with Maundy Thursday, or in fact with all of Holy Week. Starting with Palm Sunday, the whole week has been all about remembering, recalling, and reliving the events of that last week of Jesus’ human life. First, we remembered his triumphant entry into Jerusalem, tonight we remember that final supper together with his friends, we remember that very long night in the garden of Gethsemane, we remember his betrayal by one of his friends, and tomorrow, Good Friday, we remember his death on the cross. Christian remembering is not just a passive, intellectual process. It is the active means by which we actually enter into the Paschal mystery and participate in Christ’s death and resurrection, and even participate in Christ himself. 

We remember best by not just hearing or reading something, but by doing or reenacting it. This is what God commands the Israelites to do in Exodus, to remember the liberation from slavery in Egypt by repeating the Passover meal every year: “This day shall be a day of remembrance for you. You shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord; throughout your generations you shall observe it as a perpetual ordinance.” (Exodus 12:14) And throughout this week, we have not just listened to the stories, we have taken part in them – waving palms, washing feet, eating bread and drinking wine, staying up for part of the night, perhaps even dozing off as the disciples did, and then even shouting with all the people, “crucify him!”

One of the dictionary meanings of the word “remember” is to “do something that one has undertaken to do or that is necessary or advisable,” and in our case has been commanded or, using a word with the same root as Maundy, mandated. God commands the Israelites to remember. Paul tells the Corinthians that Jesus commanded them to break bread and drink wine in remembrance of him for by eating bread and drinking the cup, we proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. (1 Cor. 11:26) The passage from John’s Gospel that we heard ends famously with Jesus’ new commandment. “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” (John 13:34) But before Jesus gives his disciples this commandment, he enacts what he means by love. “You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.” (John 13:13-15)

Like any good teacher, Jesus knows that his disciples, who we are too of course, will remember best if they are given the message in multiple ways and especially if we are able to do or act what is being taught, if the teaching enters not only mentally, but also physically. And what is more physical than washing another person’s feet or having your feet washed?

But there is one more, one final connection with the medical use of the word anamnesis that I want to make. As a reminder, this was “information useful in formulating a diagnosis and providing medical care.” Our anamnesis, our remembering also has a lot to do with both formulating a diagnosis and providing not only care, but a cure! To quote again from tonight’s Eucharistic Prayer[2], the diagnosis is that “our disobedience took us far from God” and that “we live for ourselves.” The cure is “that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” The purpose of symbolic actions, such as foot washing, is so that we remember this command and can receive and show love in all circumstances, not just symbolically. Love is both about giving and receiving, and is at the very heart of the Eucharist whose institution we celebrate tonight. The Eucharist is the incarnation of Christ’s self-giving, and receiving Christ in that Sacrament prepares us to go out and share that love with others. The cure for our ills, individually and collectively, is simply love. The love of God and the love of one another.

Amen.

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[1] BCP, Prayer D, p. 374

[2] BCP, Prayer D, p. 374