There’s a great Easter story that comes to us from the 16^th century. Martin Luther once spent three days in a black depression over something that had gone wrong. Luther wasn’t a stranger to depression and in fact there were times when his family worried that he might harm himself so prone was he to fits of darkness. This particular bout of depression though was due to a failure on Luther’s part. He was often hardest on himself and for three days he wallowed in self- pity. Luther’s family tried to be patient. His wife, Katie, was nurturing and caring and his children simply gave him space. Still, the self-pity continued.

On the third day his Katie became tired of his attitude. She came downstairs dressed in mourning clothes, her black attire that was reserved for Christian burial. She walked into Luther’s study dressed head to toe in black. Luther looked up from his work. Who’s dead? he asked her. God, she replied. Luther rebuked her, saying, What do you mean, God is dead? God cannot die! Well, she replied, the way you’ve been acting I was sure He had!

I have a feeling that Melissa, my wife, might want to use that tactic on me some days! I often get down about the state of our world. There is rarely a day that goes by when I don’t hear about the division and stalemates within our political system. I read the stories and listen to the news and dwell in the political conversations and suddenly I’ll find that by mid-day I’m hunched over and sad looking and I’ve hardly smiled at all. There are times when I’ll get down about my family responsibilities. I’ll spend time with Ben and Joey and Rachel and exhaust my energy in correcting their behaviors. Do this! Stop that now. What did I just tell you to do? These are the constant refrains. Suddenly I’ll realize that spending time with these children, these beautiful gifts from God has become a burden and I’m all hunched over and my brows are furrowed and I’ve hardly smiled at all.

My church life too shares this pattern. I’ll arrive at the office and make my list of things to be done when the interruptions will begin – an unexpected hospital visit; another phone call asking for rental assistance; a call from the funeral home to arrange burial. There are days when I’ve caught myself getting down about ministry and forgetting that these interruptions are my ministry! By mid-day I’ll be all hunched over, getting more and more frustrated and I’ve hardly smiled at all. I suppose someone needs to ask me the question: Is God dead? That’s the way I so often act – as if God has died!

The Season of Easter is a call to shake off these doldrums, to shed our clothes of mourning, to straighten our shoulders and live as people of joy. This is the proclamation of the Easter scriptures – that God is alive within us and around us and because we are forever held in God’s love we can live as people of joy. There’s a 15th century mystic named Julian of Norwich who said, The greatest honor that you can give to God, greater than all your penances and sacrifices and mortifications, is to live joyfully. Not only is this the greatest honor we can offer God, this is also our most powerful witness to a world. Perhaps this is the very definition of evangelism, to be people of joy every day!

The joy of a disciple of Jesus is not some pie in the sky attitude that ignores the mess of our daily grind, or turns a blind eye to the cruelties in the world. The joy of a Christian is an acknowledgement that God is present even in the midst of our trials. The source of our joy is a deep belief that the final word of Calvary is not death but a life that is larger than death itself. The joy of a Christian is a proclamation of Good News to a world that is so desperate for anything good – that God is not dead; that God can not die; that in the end what remains is God alone, the God in whom we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28). If I believe this then I must show it on my face and in my attitude. If I believe this then I will smile more and laugh more and live more. If I believe this then I will honor God and spread Good News by being a person of JOY!  

Rally at the Capitol

On May 29^th, 1953 one of the great adventure events of the 20^th century took place. Sir Edmund Hillary, a 33 year old New Zealand mountaineer scaled the heights of the mountains of Nepal to literally stand atop the world. He climbed Mt. Everest. Sir Edmund Hillary died just three years ago and was proclaimed by Time Magazine as one of the 100 most influential people of the century; his name is synonymous with mountain climbing and adventure.

Nearly every school child at some point reads the story of Sir Edmund Hillary but very few people remember that he did not climb that mountain alone. There was a team of 400 people, including 362 porters, twenty Sherpa guides and 10,000 lbs of baggage, and like many such expeditions, was a team effort. Even more amazing was that there was another climber with him when he reached the top, a Nepali-Indian named Tenzing Norgay.

Hillary owed his life to Norgay. Early on in the ascent Edmund Hillary slipped and fell into a crevasse, but was saved from hitting the bottom by Tenzing’s prompt action in securing the rope using his ice axe. That alone should have secured Norgay’s place in history! Still it is always Sir Edmund Hillary’s name that is associated with Mt. Everest. After three months of grueling climbing two men reached the top and yet headlines shot around the world proclaiming the great feat of Sir Edmund Hillary. In press conferences the two men would often be asked which man was the first to step on the peak of Everest, and Hillary would always underscore that both men did it together. The world it seems always wants one hero at a time and thus the story was created that placed Sir Edmund Hillary as the first.

Later in his life, Tenzing Norgay was asked what it felt like to have been so instrumental to Hillary’s success. His answer is powerful in its humility. We mountain climbers help each other. If it is a shame to help; a shame to be the second man on Mt. Everest, then I welcome that shame.

There is I think an Easter message in this story of Tenzing Norgay. The story of Jesus is essentially a story of a man who embraced humility and service. The crucifixion of Jesus was an event of terrible shame; and event of a man dying a common criminal’s death; a man who was willing to forgive those who injured, and beat and killed him. The story of Jesus is a story of one who had no need for the fame of the world. On the cross you can almost hear Jesus saying: Disciples help each other. If it is a shame to help; a shame to serve; a shame to die for others, then I welcome that shame. As much as the Easter story is about the victory of God over death itself, the Easter story is also about the service and sarifice – and even the shame taken on by the One whose name we bear.

Easter then is also a challenge to us as disciples. There are so many times in our lives when we desire to be number one, to receive the credit that we are due, to grab onto our fifteen minutes of fame. There are so many moments when we resent having to care for others and listen to problems, when we long to take are of ourselves first, when we are tired of coming in second. There are so many times when we are sick of being asked for money, and we’re tired of charities asking for more, when we want to claim what we have as ours alone. This is the human condition – we want to be number one! And still the call of the resurrected Christ is to service – always to service. Quietly we are asked to lift others up and help them along. Gently we are asked to find ways of making others feel valuable and needed. In humility we are asked to place our own desire for glory and power behind us and carry our sisters and brothers. On Easter morning we remember Jesus – a man who had no need for the fame of this world. We hear him calling to us from the empty tomb: Disciples help each other. If it is a shame to help; a shame to serve; a shame to die for others, then I welcome that shame.

            I remember studying Latin years ago, though I confess it was not my favorite subject – rather – one of those necessary evils for ordination. I do remember some stories from my Latin professor though that I’ve carried with me through the years.

            One day he told us about ancient Rome, the home of classical Latin. He described the beautiful temples and the marble altars and the statues of the roman gods. Apparently the marble for these ancient works was cut from rock ledges just outside of the city of Rome. Most of the work was done by slaves and it was grueling, backbreaking work. The rock would be cut in differing sizes and then the marble would be polished on the sides that would be showing. The polishing was done with abrasive stones with lesser and lesser grit until the rock was smooth to the touch. Then the marble would be hauled off to the construction site.

At the place of construction, if there were any imperfections in the marble they could be filled in or hidden by rubbing the massive marble stones with wax .The word for wax in Latin is cere. Now the marble coming in from the quarry before it had been rubbed with wax was considered without wax – or no wax. The word for no or none in Latin is sine. Thus the fresh marble from the fields, without any wax was called sine cere. Does the word look familiar? Our word sincerely comes from this practice. Our professor said to us: Every time you sign a letter, Sincerely Yours, you are writing in effect – without wax, or just as I am, or with all my faults and imperfections.

I remembered that story; that strange bit of trivia this week as I reflected upon the Season of Lent. In a very real sense Lent is the season to stand before God sine cere, without wax. So often in our lives we show the world only a part of who we are. We wear our best selves for the world to see; we wear wonderful masks that never let others see our failures and imperfections; we hide behind our titles or our jobs or our reputations and no one really ever sees us as we are without wax. More to the point we’d be so afraid if anyone knew our deepest secrets and thoughts, the darkest corners of our hearts and souls. We rarely ever admit this darkness even to ourselves. We bury deep within our hearts the fears that we’re not good enough or smart enough or beautiful enough. We bury our addictions and our bad habits, our darkest thoughts and desires. We gloss over the times we have given into the basest temptations. If we are honest, if we are sincere, we must admit there are parts of ourselves that we will hide or try to hide forever. And then comes the Season of Lent – the season of honesty!

Each Lent we begin our worship with an examination of conscience and confession, a time to admit publically and out loud our brokenness and imperfection. We stand without wax. Each Lent we gather on Wednesday evenings to eat a simple meal of soup and bread and to fast a bit from the food that generally fills our lives. This fasting helps us to remember that in the end everything we have is a gift from God and we are merely creatures dependent on a loving God. We stand without wax. Each Lent we are asked to give a bit more generously and pray a bit more fervently. In fact, all we do in Lent reminds us that there is One who sees all our imperfections, who knows us better than we know ourselves, and who looks upon us sine cere, without wax, just as we are.

Yet even though Lent is a time for honesty with ourselves and before God, Lent is even more a time of Good News. We remember that as we stand before God sine cere, warts and all, God embraces us and loves us. We remember that even when we can not love ourselves sine cere, with all of our faults and failures, God still does. We remember that even when our past is a disaster and our present so very ordinary and our future uncertain, when we stand sine cere, God promises to hold us through it all and never to let us go. All of this is the Lenten promise. All of this is Good News!  So as I pray during this holy season I remember you my brothers and sisters at Messiah Church. I pray that you come to trust this One who loves you as you are. May God bless you in your journey. Sincerely! Pastor Jeff