The Rev. Noah Van Niel
The Chapel of the Cross
April 12, 2020
Easter Day (A): Jeremiah 31:1-6; Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24; Acts 10:34-43: John 20:1-18
Easter feels wrong this year. Not just because right now we are forced to celebrate the Feast of the Resurrection in an empty church with a few lonesome lilies, but because, with daily death tolls reaching ever higher across the country, and the prospect of a surge in fatalities heading our way, our joyful Alleluias sound somewhat out of tune with the minor key the world the world is living in right now. It feels like we are stuck in Good Friday, the darkness and death increasing by the hour, as the world is brought to its knees by this insidious virus.
Yet, on the other hand, I don’t think I’ve ever needed the message of resurrection more than I do today. The Easter promises of hope coming from despair, joy coming from sorrow, life coming from death. I need that message to stave off the fears and frustrations of this pandemic; to trust that we will come forth from this tomb and that when we do something beautiful will emerge.
What exactly that looks like though, is anyone’s guess. I’ve noticed that as the weeks have gone by in this “new normal” people’s questions have shifted. We have learned that we can do the hard thing of staying put, shutting down our lives, in the name of saving others. But now we want to know, what’s next? What could life possibly look like after all this suffering and death? In many ways these must have been the same kinds of questions Jesus’ followers were asking themselves when they woke up that first Easter morning. What happens now?
There will be a temptation, when all this is over, to try to go back to the way things were. A hunger for the comfort food of the familiar. To put this whole thing behind us and pretend it never happened, like a nightmare we are only too glad to wake up from. And I can understand that desire. But of course, it will be impossible. That world is dead. And we must remember that if we are to have a Resurrection it will not be a return, it will be a rebirth; something new will come into being out of this desolation that is similar, but not the same. Remember the resurrected Christ is not immediately recognizable to Mary outside the tomb, and yet it’s still him. She can talk to him, but she cannot hold onto him. Things cannot go back to the way they were before, no matter how much we may want them to. And frankly, are we really so sure the world before COVID-19 is one we want to go back to, even if we could? I can still recall hearing and preaching more than few sermons about a world that was tearing itself apart, socially, politically, environmentally and in other ways. That world is gone. Whether for better, or for worse, well that remains to be seen.
Because when we come through this unprecedented crisis, we are going to have an unprecedented opportunity: the opportunity to rebuild the world, and have a hand in its resurrection. When we get sprung from our homes, we are going to get to ask, “What kind of world do we want to bring into being?” We will have the choice and the chance, to take the good things that have emerged from this crisis and take them with us into that new creation. And there have been some remarkably good things. Things such as the ability to see our fellow humans as fellow humans, as Children of God, not as enemies; the incredible powers of ingenuity and effort that have converged towards a noble end; a generosity of Spirit and prayer that has pervaded in these days; a hunger for community and connection; a valuing of beauty in its many forms; a reprioritizing of family; and that sense of inspiration we get from seeing acts of selfless sacrifice and service. We will have the chance to carry these silver linings forward from this crisis into the new world that is being reborn. A world that will be similar, but, God willing, not the same as what came before it. Of course, the other option we will have is to fall prey to the evils that this pandemic has unleashed. The fear, mistrust and isolation. The opportunities for exploitation and power grabbing. There is a chance we come out of this and end up even worse off than we were before. So I ask you: can we only achieve a sense of community, can we only prioritize our common humanity when there is an enemy at the gate? And then are we doomed to fall back into hating each other? This is the question. The questions we are going to have to ask ourselves over the coming days, and weeks and months, and maybe even years.
And as people of faith, as people of the Resurrection, we are going need to answer this question with our lives. If we want to have a say in what kind of world comes from this crisis we will need to lend ourselves to the oars to steer people away from selfishness, fear and hatred, and towards generosity, mercy and love. Because for followers of Jesus, Resurrection is not just an event, it is a calling. Easter is not a day, it is a commitment. A commitment to take this good news of faith, hope and love and share it, spread it, live it, use it to heal this broken world; to banish fear and hatred from our midst, and work for a new world order built on the bedrock of justice and peace. We have that opportunity, or we will soon. And if, by some miracle, we do rebuild this world in a way that better approximates the Kingdom of God, that more perfectly embodies the promises of Resurrection, then all the thousands upon thousands upon thousands, of people who have died in this plague won’t just be casualties, they’ll be heroes, because they will have saved the world.
My friends, Easter may feel wrong this year, but it’s here all the same. And it comes with an opportunity, and a responsibility. The opportunity to be an Easter people at a time when it was never more important, and the responsibility to do everything we can to change this world from a perpetual Good Friday, into an eternal Eastertide. This is our calling; this is our chance. By the grace of God, I know we can do it. And, for the love of God, I hope we do. Amen.