This morning the tomb is empty.  We tell each other the story of the resurrection. We also tell many other stories. You could say that we are telling stories about storytellers. This is important because we’d be nowhere without storytellers. Our whole faith and everything important we believe – we know all this because someone told us the story.

         There are always certain elements to a good story. There is always a challenge to the protagonist that upsets the status quo. There is a choice that the hero makes that shows his or her true values. Finally there is an outcome that moves the story to a conclusion. In God’s story, we are always brought back to a place of blessing and new life. Sometimes it seems a long way off. Sometimes it seems impossible. But God always finds a way.

          We’ve all come here today in the midst of our own stories. We all have chapters in our lives where God has done something unexpected. What was your story? What great challenge did you have to face? What choices did you make along the way that made a difference? How did your story change you? How did your story bring you here today?

         Peter was challenged to share God’s message to gentiles. I realize that this seems silly now, but it was an unimaginable barrier to Peter. He had a recurring dream of God inviting him to eat all sorts of ritually unclean foods. In the end God commanded him to not reject anything God declared clean or holy. Peter made the choice to visit a stranger and to share the good news even though he didn’t know what would happen. To everyone’s surprise, the gathered people all welcomed God’s good news and they believed and were transformed. It was the first step towards welcoming the likes of you and me into God’s new world.

         The apostle Paul writes about the testimony of many witnesses. The choice of many people to share what they knew is the foundation of what you and I believe today. Paul reminds us that each generation has to pass on their faith to the next. We can’t set up some sort of program that will preserve the church forever. We have to share what we’ve seen. We have to share what we’ve learned. The next generation will have to do the same. God is always at work. We’re not passing down heirlooms. We’re passing down our lives.

         On the first Easter morning, Mary is given some hard challenges. She is grieving for her dead teacher. She goes to the tomb early in the morning, hoping to finish preparing the body of Jesus. She does not know what she will find. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to do what she intends. She is making a brave choice because the other followers of Jesus are hiding in fear. They fear (perhaps rightly) that if they publically declare their connection to Jesus they might end up with the same punishment of death.

         When she finds the tomb empty, she tells the other disciples. Peter and John run in and out, but May stays by the tomb and asks what happened. She is confused and sees angels and someone she thinks is the gardener. When he says her name, she knows that it is Jesus. Because she chose to be brave, Mary is the first witness to the resurrection.

         The empty tomb is the surprise ending to the Easter story. It is still empty. We are still witnesses of the empty tomb. We are still challenged to share what we have seen. Will we have the courage to speak about the God we have met along the way? Will we have the courage to speak of our faith in a world of skepticism? Will we have courage to be generous in world of anxiety? Will we have the courage to love in a world trapped in fear?

         We are witnesses of these things. The story of the first resurrection has been handed down to us by generations of Mary’s before us. We are also witnesses to the things that God has spoken to us and the things that God has done in us. We have lived through many challenges. We have made many difficult choices. Sometimes we have chosen well and sometimes poorly. Yet God is always at work in us. God is always loving us. The outcome is the unfolding story about how God is saving us.

         No expects the tomb to be empty. We all have our plans for God. We think we know just how God should help us. It rarely turns out that way. Our plans all fail and we despair. The empty tomb is a surprise. God does the unexpected. When we let God work in us the outcome is new life.

         When we tell the story, maybe there is more going on than the effect we have on the one who is listening. In the telling, we are changed. We discover the love of God in the plot we didn’t see at first. We realize how much we depend on God. We see that God has blessed us despite ourselves. We have added nothing to the riches we have been given.

         Even so, we are invited to enter into God’s story. God would make us characters in a new narrative. With all our failures and limitations, we are the followers who have been chosen to share the treasure we have discovered. We are the witnesses beside the empty tomb. That empty tomb may be for us an escape from addiction – a recovery from an illness – a lifetime of service to our family or our community. Somehow God has inspired us to get to this point in our lives. We wouldn’t have made it here without God.

This is our Easter. This is what we must find the courage to proclaim.

          Tonight we remember stories. We remind ourselves of how God worked in the lives of people in the past. We remember times that looked desperate. We remember how fortunes changed for God’s people in ways that they never suspected. There was a great natural disaster and God saved people and animals in a great ship, an ark. There was once a time when people were enslaved and God drew them out into freedom and crushed their oppressors. There was a time when people were scattered and their future – their nation and their faith – looked all but dead. God gives a vision of a new people being created out of the death of the old.

         We also remember our first story. We remember the story of the resurrection. This is a difficult story. Christmas is easier for us. Our yuletide stories are all about gifts and the transformative power of generosity. It’s very human. We can see how others appreciate the gifts we offer. We can feel how generosity transforms us. When we give ourselves the freedom to act, we can understand what God does in giving us Jesus and we can imagine how we might copy God.

         Easter is a little distant. The story of holy week is much more somber. We don’t rush to embrace the suffering of Jesus. It’s difficult to comprehend the depth of Jesus’ sacrifice for us. We can barely describe what the resurrection means. Our finest theological statements about Easter sound like good guesses. The story ends with an empty tomb. There is nothing to copy. There is no way to recreate the feelings and hand them to someone else.

         We have joy. We have a sense that we are loved. There is an assurance that, since God has broken the power of our worst enemy, the rest will work out. Whatever challenges we face, the most difficult challenge has been met and God has prevailed.

         If there is any common theme in all these vigil stories, it is how God has brought people to a new place, a better place, the place God desired from the start. I think we struggle because we are always trying to get back to where we were. God wants to bring us the place we need to be.

         A while back, we were using a process called public narrative to tell our stories. Each of our stories contains a challenge, a choice and an outcome. I offer you the opportunity to think about your own stories. Think of a time when God has acted powerfully in your life.

         Without sharing your story with all of us, consider the outcome. I would guess that for most of you, whatever struggle or challenge you faced; when God worked powerfully in your life, the outcome was that God brought you to a new place. I would even guess that the new place to which God brought you was an unexpected place. God brought you to a place of unexpected blessing. Whatever you asked of God, God brought you the place you needed to be – even if it wasn’t the place you expected.

         I don’t know your stories. You may have had a very different outcome. I would like to remind us of how many of our stories are like our other resurrections stories. We go through tough times and we see no relief. We struggle and fight and it only seems to get worse. Sometimes, when God acts, we are surprised. Something changes. Something serendipitous, lucky, miraculous, turns the course of events in a new way and our world is changed. We can only marvel and give thanks. We find ourselves with a new job, greater health, a new family. We don’t deserve it and here it is.

         We find ourselves looking for explanations for the empty tomb. There are none. God doesn’t ask for our advice on how to save the world. God just does it. We are left with the blessing and the gift of sharing the blessing. Unlike Christmas, we can’t copy God’s gift by buying something at the store. We are given the privilege of sharing the resurrection we know. Of course, we share the story of the resurrection of Jesus. And we are also called to be eyewitnesses to how God has worked in us. We are given the work of sharing what we personally know of the resurrection – how God has worked in our lives.

         We don’t really need candy or eggs. We don’t need to rush to Walgreens or send out cards. We only have to share good news. We get to share how God has loved us.

          What’s the difference between right and wrong? There are times when we don’t even think about it. We know what’s right and we know what’s wrong. It is always easier to think in terms of absolutes when a choice is at arms length – when it doesn’t directly affect us. It is much more complicated when we look close at hand. This is especially difficult when we raise children and we want to teach them right from wrong. We can write up a list pretty easily, but almost as soon as they can talk our children ask us, “Why?”

         It’s not always the rules that are the problem. It is the living and the doing that is difficult. We would have no trouble here listing all Ten Commandments. I’ll bet many of you could recite the greatest commandment as given by Jesus. We probably know the golden rule, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” The trick is to live by that rule.

         When we first hear that rule we are apt to think of it in a negative way. Don’t do anything you wouldn’t want done to you. Don’t step on my foot because you wouldn’t want me to step on yours. Jesus urges us to think a little more positively. We should actively seek to live in such a way that we would want others to act towards us. We want to help our neighbors because we would want them to help us in time of need. This is just how Jesus describes the obedient and disobedient son in the parable. It is the one who worked that obeyed.

         Even here I think we limit the scope of what God wants for us. God wants us to do more than to be nice and kind. Jesus wants us to die. I know that this is not the most popular way to express what we believe. We come to church for comfort and strength. We hope to meet our friends and we want to be uplifted and inspired by our time together. We also come here to die.

         We are really longing for something different than what we know. As much as we seek help and support, we are really looking for a new world. We want a new heart and a new spirit. We want to live new life – eternal life – resurrected life. To get this we have to die first. The people of Israel had to put to death all the old definitions of themselves so that they could stop being slaves and become the children of God. The tax collectors and prostitutes had to repent and turn their hearts to enter into a new relationship with God (a new relationship to which the chief priests and elders were also being welcomed into.) When we baptize a child, we are declaring sacramental death so that we can also proclaim resurrection. The child dies in the waters of baptism so that they can be born again.

         We don’t use the language of death, but we are forever trading old expectations for new ones. If we look on an infant just before they are baptized we don’t see a dying soul, begging for new life. We don’t see loss or sin or failure. We see the future and our hearts are filled with hope.

         The child may look perfect in our eyes today. Tomorrow is different. We know the child will grow. We know the child will learn right from wrong and that he or she will often choose the wrong. The first time the child willingly chooses to do the wrong thing, it is a little death for the parents. They know that their perfect child is not perfect. This death of perfection is a blessing because it opens the deeper path of learning about why we choose the right thing and not the wrong. It is the first step in that child learning what it means to say that they are sorry and receive real forgiveness and be restored in a new way to their family.

         The day when that child tries to play baseball and can’t throw or catch, it may also be a little death for the parents. They discover that their child will not grow up to pitch for the Red Sox. That little death opens the way to discover the gifts that God is already growing in that young person. Some day the baby will grow up and go to his or her first prom. Maybe they have a great date and we hope the relationship blossoms, but the young couple breaks up. It is painful and there are many tears. The death of that relationship is the beginning of a new understanding of what it takes to be in relationship with another person. They learn for the first time that it is what they give that brings them closer to another, not what they can get out of another.

         In the letter to the Philippians, Paul is encouraging the church to continue in their sacrificial support of others. He reminds them that it is this emptying that leads to life. We often think it is the other way around. We think that if we surround ourselves with more and better stuff, our lives will be enriched. Jesus shows us that the true direction is completely opposite.

         Even though Jesus “was in the form of God, (he) did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth, and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

         As we raise our children and as we find our way we discover that we are not in an unending race to get more for ourselves. Our race is to give away as much as ourselves as we can while we can. The result is not the stress and anxiety over scarcity that mark our age. The result of giving ourselves to others is that we find life – and if we are lucky, we help others find life as well.

         Our call today is to teach the rules to those given into our care – and then to go beyond the rules. God wants more for us than to be merely good. God wants us to live. In the waters of baptism we have already died. The freedom to live our resurrection is at hand. Let us follow the tax collectors and prostitutes who have gone before us walking the way of the cross that leads to life.

          A few weeks ago, Bishop Ahrens shared an African proverb:

         “If you want to go fast, go alone.

         If you want to go far, go together.”

When the two disciples traveled to Emmaus, they didn’t know what was happening. They couldn’t make sense of al that they had seen. They didn’t know what would become of them. The great gift of the story is how they traveled from a place of fear and confusion and found a place of joy. Even though they returned to Jerusalem, they had traveled a great distance. With the help of Jesus, they got there together. They got there by telling their story.

         Over the past few months we have been telling stories to each other. We have been engaged from time to time in the practice of public narrative. Remember that there are three parts to a good story. There is a challenge, there is a choice and there is an outcome. By forming the episodes of our lives into stories, we begin to discern how we act; we can discern why we act and what is important to us. Stories cannot be told alone. By speaking and listening together, we learn from each other. We begin to recognize the things that are important to our whole community.

         The two disciples told their story to Jesus. Ironically, they recounted the story of Jesus to Jesus without recognizing him. They told how Jesus had a challenge – he was arrested and condemned to death. He had a choice – he could have gotten out of it by bowing to the authorities. The outcome? – they were a little confused about that. The telling of this story is also wrapped in their own story. The disciples have a challenge – to tell their story to a mysterious traveler. They have a choice – to keep up the conversation and invite him to eat with them. Their story has an outcome. They see Jesus as he breaks the bread. They discern the meaning of their own story in their conversation with Jesus. They are changed. They return to Jerusalem and the cycle continues, right up to this present moment as we hear and respond to the Easter story.

         What is our challenge? What are our choices? What will be the outcome? We are walking on that road to Emmaus today. As we hear the good news our hearts burn within us. We see Jesus in the broken bread we share. We have our own story to share as we travel. We need to discover our own story and tell it in this place at this moment.

         We might say that our challenge is a broken boiler and a broken organ. Our choice is whether or not we are willing to pay to fix these things. Maybe the outcome is a happy and contented church with everything beautiful again and in order. There’s nothing wrong with that story. We might very well live to see that story told. But I think we have another story.

         The world we knew and the church we knew will never be the same again. God’s love for us, and the story of the resurrection will always remain the same, but we have to continually rediscover how to proclaim this story in our time. Whenever we start to complain about how people aren’t like they used to be, it’s a sign that we have to tell the story again in a new way.

         Jesus is walking beside us, asking us what’s on our mind. Maybe we can tell Jesus about how we have followed faithfully, but the world around us has changed. People don’t seem to treasure our traditions the way that they used to. People don’t seem as reliable. We can’t seem to find enough money or hands or interest to keep up all the things we love. Maybe we’ll find the outcome as we have conversation with Jesus. Maybe he will open our minds to the truth in scripture and show how the resurrection is still going on. Maybe when we come to the table and take the broken bread we will recognize Jesus and find the strength to travel to a new place and see ourselves in a new way.

         We will gather resources to fix our old broken building. We know that it’s not enough. We need to transform this community into something that reaches the world around us. We need to find a way to tell good news to people who need to hear it, but don’t think to come inside our door. We need to discern the traditions that sustain us, and to find the courage to let go of the things that hold us back. We need to learn to share our stories – both by speaking and listening so that we can see the presence of God among us.

         Finally, we need to give up the idea that church is all about us. True, God will comfort us in our pain and heal us in our brokenness. God wants to restore us to go back into the world to do our work. The church is not about our comfort and ease and nothing else. The church exists to proclaim God’s good news. God gives it to us freely, and we are to share it and spend all of God’s gifts with generosity. In following God we may have to give away some things that are dear to us. But as we open ourselves and listen to the story that God tells, we will find new purpose and new strength for that journey.

         I invite us all to the practice of speaking and listening – to one another and to God, as God reveals to us the way that we should go.

        

          How many of you got an Easter basket full of candy this morning? What’s your favorite candy? I’m partial to dark chocolate, but any chocolate is good. I like jellybeans, but not those marshmallow peeps. They are a little too sweet for my taste. I also don’t like how they are all shmooshed together in a box. It’s a little unnatural.

         I’m struck by how we try to work up traditions around Easter. It’s not like Christmas. We don’t have boxes of ornaments, or decorations handed down through the family. We might gather as a family for Easter dinner, but we don’t have the same traditional dishes we have for Christmas or thanksgiving. There’s no eggnog – just eggs. There’s no caroling. No cards or exchange of presents. Maybe a ham or a leg of lamb? The retailers don’t know what to do with the holiday. New clothes? Wouldn’t we buy them anyway?
        
         We see signs of spring. There are flowers and pastel colors everywhere. The word Easter comes from an ancient word for spring – so many of our attempts at marking the time have to do with ancient traditions that welcome the coming of spring. So aside from our pagan roots, we really don’t know what to do.

         I think that this is because Easter is really a great big surprise. No one saw it coming. For centuries, people looked forward to the birth of the messiah – so we have many ancient traditions that look to the past with the birth of Jesus. But for Easter – Wow! Look what happened!

         So maybe an Easter basket isn’t so bad a symbol of Easter. We wake up and find something good and unexpected. Mary Magdalene expected to find a body in a tomb, and she expected to anoint and wrap Jesus’ body. When she got to the tomb, it was empty. Peter and “the other disciple” (probably John) ran to the tomb and found it empty as well. Mary looked again and saw angels in the tomb. As she was trying to find out what happened, she turned and saw a man she supposed was a gardener. She recognized Jesus when he spoke.

         Mary expected a sad duty and she wasn’t ready for the surprise. As she stayed by the tomb and tried to understand, she met Jesus and she got to be the first witness of the resurrection. It is Mary who gives the first good news to the disciples. All of this is possible because Mary is not afraid to face her fear or her feelings. She didn’t know what happened to the body of Jesus, so she asks. She didn’t know who may have desecrated the grave, so she weeps. Because she isn’t in hiding or running away in fear, she gets to embrace the risen Lord.

         Our own Easter surprise is more than a basket of chocolate or eggs. We have been confronted again by the story of the empty tomb. We are confronted with our own fears or disbelief or sadness that may keep us from embracing the truth. But there is no uniform way to experience the surprise of the resurrection. Jesus is ready to take us as we are. If we are willing to wait in that uncomfortable place where we might not know what will happen next, we may be surprised that God is already at the end of it.

         We can speak objectively about the resurrection. Jesus died and rose again two thousand years ago. Because he has broken the power of death, we do not need to fear death anymore. Whatever may have separated us from God is no longer there. But I urge us to think more personally. The resurrection is true this moment. We are raised from the dead at this instant. We are resurrected people and this is a resurrected church. It may not look that way. It may not feel that way. But Jesus is standing with us, wondering what is troubling us.

         The truth of the resurrection gave Mary the power to be the first witness. The truth of the resurrection sent apostles throughout the Roman world to do and say things they never imagined. The truth of the resurrection is power for us today. There is no problem or struggle that God cannot help us with. We may not know yet what to do, but whatever God has called us to do; we have the strength and resources to do it. We don’t have to worry about money to do the things we need to do. We don’t even have to worry about the vision to know God’s will. God will give us all these things. We only have to ask.

         We don’t have to wait for our own grave. We aren’t patiently waiting for heaven. We are resurrected now. We can begin our eternal life as soon as we start moving – as soon as we ask how.

          Tonight we have a long and complicated liturgy. It reflects the depth of what we celebrate. We get to hear only a few chapters of the whole miracle of God’s love for us. Even with this small taste, we get a sense that God has been at this for a long time. God has been slowly wooing us over the millennia. Tonight we celebrate the result.

         The news is so good that it isn’t really over. God’s love for us is so deep that God wants to re-create us and start a new thing. The ancient texts we hear and the old songs we sing can hide the truth that what God is doing is a new thing.

         Over the past year I’ve been working on my Doctor of Ministry degree. I’ve been interested in how we live in community. I’ve been studying how we create that new community. We are gathered to be new people in new relationships. We are called to examine the world in which we find ourselves and discern how we can be transformed into the blessed community – how we can become the body of Christ.

         I’ve learned about the need to move from a community of retribution into a community of reconciliation; from a community of blame to a community of hope; from survival to new life. It is difficult to see the difference sometimes. We all know our problems. The boiler if broken, the organ is broken and our budget is out of balance. We need more people, but where are they? We could use more resources, but we wonder if there are any to spare. But I also think that we have seen this community slowly transform into something it hasn’t been for some time.

         Think about the last three months. We found ourselves in here because the boiler failed in the sanctuary. None of us knew it would take this long to fix (and it’s still in the works.) We didn’t know how to use this space or if we could hold everything we needed, but we did. Instead of blaming others for bad building maintenance, we pitched in and made the space work. Instead of giving up, people showed up and moved chairs and books. In the end, we discovered we could do something different. We discovered (or remembered) that the church is not the building – it’s us.

         There have been a number of benefits to being here. We can hear each other when we sing. We can see each other across the room. We are closer. This emergency has called for new gifts and new participation, and people have come forward to offer them. There has been little complaining – mostly because there is no use complaining. We’ve made the best of it, and discovered we even enjoy the change a little.

         We have lost the majestic and beautiful space we all love. It will not be easy to return to that cold (and dark) room. The sound system is better and the seats are more comfortable. It’s easier to find a personal space and sense of quiet rest. But lets not forget what we have learned here.

         We like each other – so lets continue to sit together. Go against the natural instinct to fill the space by sitting equidistant from one another. Sit with your friends. Sit up front! Don’t just listen to the choir. Sing along. It sounds better. If we sit near one another and everyone sings, we all sound better. Don’t be afraid to open you mouth and speak when invited. When we share our prayers, we all pray with better intention. We know how to care for each other better.

         The church is us. We don’t come here to join some sort of group rooted in an antique room. We are the community we choose to make. We are blessed and we grow when each of us offers whatever we can to help and encourage the rest.

         Soon we will be in a different space. It will feel different and we will face new problems. It will be colder. Music will be different for a while. I don’t know how it will turn out. I do know this. We got through three months in this space, relying on the patience and helpfulness of each other. We got through that (and truth be told, this congregation has been through much worse.) We will get through the next thing.

         Maybe the hardest thing to give up is the idea that we are a solid and established institution that will remain the same forever. This is a fantasy. Nothing ever stays the same for very long – even if it’s made of stone. This is a good thing. We don’t need empty tombs very much. God is always making new things. We are not memorial people. We are resurrection people. God is always renewing us. God will make us new again.