Sunday, November 6, 2022

November 6, 2022 - The Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost

Lectionary Readings

O God of the living and the dead, help us to come and see the glory of the Resurrection which is more than we can ask for or imagine. Amen.

            The phrase “more than we can ask or imagine” is familiar to us because it is one of the verses of Scripture that we close Morning and Evening Prayer with. It comes from the letter to the Ephesians in which St. Paul writes, “Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.” Because of our self-reliance and limited imaginations, we can be unaware of just how awesome and grand the Resurrection is. It’s like the story of the two fish who are swimming along and one fish says to the other, “The water seems nice today” and the other responds, “What’s water?”. Because we live in a post-Easter world, one in which the stone at the tomb has already been rolled away, it can be easy to be oblivious to the Resurrection all around us.

            One of the great theologians of the 20th century commented that the Bible gives us the answers our questions deserve, that we shall find in such answers as much as we seek and no more. In other words, the questions that we ask limit the answers that we will encounter. Our doubts will impact our imaginations. Our sins can influence how much peace we find. Our need to be correct can prevent us from knowing a truth that surpasses all human knowing. Our biases and opinions can close us off to learning something new.

            At its best, the Church and our faith can help us to ask better questions so that we will be greeted with better answers. By gathering in the richness and diversity of beloved community, the Church helps to ask better questions in considering perspectives that we are blind to. This is why congregations that all are in the same socio-economic class, or have no racial diversity, or all vote for the same candidates can prevent us from growing in the faith. We need diversity because the image of God in which we are made is a mosaic – each of us is a part of it. And so, the more colorful the mosaic we see, the better the answers we will find. That doesn’t mean that we’ll always agree with the questions that others ask, but, if we have ears to listen, we will certainly hear the Holy Spirit speaking in response.

            Speaking of bad questions because of a limited vision, in today’s reading from Luke we hear about the Sadducees who are trying to trap Jesus. They ask him, “Hey, let’s say there’s a woman whose husband dies before they have children. So, according to the law of Levirate marriage, she marries the next oldest brother, you know, to keep the family lineage going. Well, imagine that the next brother also dies before they have a child, and this happens all the way down the line until all seven of the brothers have married her and died without children. Tell us, Teacher, in this so-called Resurrection of yours, whose wife will the woman be?”

            The Sadducees were what we might call conservatives, and I don’t mean that with any sense of political undertones. They saw themselves as the preservers of tradition. They defended the written Torah, the teachings of the faith in Scripture, but not the oral Torah – that is the community’s discernment on various issues. If it was clear in the Law of Moses, well and good. But if it isn’t clearly taught in Scripture, they rejected it. And the Resurrection is one of those things that is not really evident in the Old Testament – sure, we can find allusions to the idea in a few verses in Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel. As Christians, you and I can see sign points to the Resurrection all throughout Scripture, but the Sadducees didn’t have the insights that the Holy Spirit has given us.

            In their minds, they were asking Jesus a nonsensical question. It’s like asking if God can make a married bachelor or a square-circle; these questions make no sense and therefore do not have an answer that will make any sense. So when Jesus responds that “in the resurrection from the dead they neither marry nor are given in marriage,” they have no way to receive this response or encounter its truth. I ran across a quote this week that helps us to see what is going on: Stephen Hawking said, “The greatest enemy of knowledge is not ignorance, it is the illusion of knowledge.” It is one thing to not know something, it is another to falsely assume that have understanding. This is the sin of certainty, and it’s on full display here.

            Now, it’s not that Jesus gave them a bad answer, but rather the Sadducees were only able to get out of that answer what they were prepared to receive. And the same thing happens to us in our faith. The questions that we ask will shape what we believe. A version of Christianity that is obsessed with asking questions like “who is allowed to be ordained, or married,” or “Will non-Christians go to hell,” or “How can we make sure that we stay in power” will not find the radical and transforming depths of the Resurrection.

            Too often our questions limit what we ask or think is possible and we end up never being surprised in faith, never being transformed, never seeing things afresh, never called to do something differently. Because of our doubts and our certainties, we, like the Sadducees, can be closed off to what God is doing all around us.

            Simply put, we will never experience the beauty, wonder, and grace of the Resurrection if we limit what is possible with God by the questions that we ask or the prayers that we pray. Jesus says that God is not god of the dead, but of the living. That’s because to God, no one is ever dead, never forgotten, never un-Resurrectable. But our questions can assume a god of the dead – a god who has nothing to do with how we vote, or spend our money, or treat those who disagree with us, or raise our children, or care for those in poverty. Having the Resurrection at the core of our faith means always being open to things beyond what we can ask or imagine.

            And the Resurrection itself is one of these topics that we need to rethink. Like the Sadducees, modern Christianity has diminished and distorted what the Resurrection is all about. We often misunderstand the Resurrection to be resuscitation – that after we die, somehow an immaterial part of us, called a soul, goes to some immaterial place, called heaven, where it is reanimated somehow and is alive again. I do want to tread lightly here because a lot of us were taught to believe that, and it brings a lot of comfort to people. The problem with such a view is that is closed to the full grandeur of the Resurrection and is not what Jesus, Scripture, or Christian Tradition has taught about the Resurrection.

            Notice that in Jesus’ response, he doesn’t talk about souls or heaven. Rather, he says that the Resurrection is beyond what they are imagining. The Sadducees are asking a question like what color will the number five be in the Resurrection. And when we think of the Resurrection as some sort of disembodied life after death, we make the exact same mistake. When we look at Scripture, what we find is that the direction of things is not for us to get to heaven, but that’s a trap most Christians have fallen into. And so we make heaven the goal – we come up with rules for who gets to go there, and how they get there, and what it is like to be there. But Scripture, and most notably Jesus, are nearly silent on such questions. Perhaps because such questions are so limited that we end up with versions of the faith that are so limiting.

            When we get our questions not from Dante’s Inferno, Milton’s Paradise Lost, or Plato’s philosophy but rather from Scripture, we end up with a far more expansive view of the Resurrection. The Resurrection is not about us getting to heaven, rather it is how God is bringing heaven to Creation. This is why the Resurrection happened in a specific and material time and place. If the Resurrection was something that only concerned immaterial souls going to heaven, then we wouldn’t have any of the Easter stories. But, no, we do have stories of Jesus with a more-than-physical Resurrected body walking around  in Israel. It’s almost as if Jesus was trying to teach us something when he taught us to pray “thy kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.”

            The Resurrection, then, is not a heavenly reward, but a present reality – a reality in which we can live, and move, and have our being in which sins are forgiven, death is defeated, love is victorious, and grace abounds. Resurrection life is to be entered into here and now, and perfected and grown into both on this side of the grave and the other. Resurrected life does not end at death, but rather continues further on a distant shore and in a greater light. The Resurrection is not about liberation from earthly life, it is a perfection of it.

This is what leads CS Lewis to present one of the best understandings of the Resurrection at the close of his Chronicles of Naria series. He writes of when some of the characters enter into the fullness of Resurrection life and describes them as going “further up and further in.” In other words, what we think is real and true right now are but mere shadows. The glory of the Resurrection is beyond what we can ask or imagine. Because we have glimpsed the fullness of all things on Easter, we can have that truth of the Resurrection permeate every aspect of our lives. But with our flawed questions and beliefs about the Resurrection, we can limit how grand it can be and we end up turning God into a god of the dead, instead of recognizing God as the Lord of life.

And this matters because if we reduce the meaning of the Resurrection to be about what happens after we die, we both give too much power to death, for it has been overcome by Jesus, and we limit what it means to be a follower of a Crucified and Resurrected Savior. The poet Langston Hughes wrote, “Life is for the living; death is for the dead. Let life be like music; and death a note unsaid.” We end up living in the shadow of death when we constantly worry about what happens after death. We end up giving death too much power, too much fear, too much of our lives. Jesus has clearly told us that he is the Resurrection and the Life and he has clearly shown us that the love of God in him is stronger than the grave on Easter morning. So why do we insist on arguing and worry so much about what happens after death? We already know the answer – all has been redeemed. This does not mean that we shouldn’t be afraid of death – anytime we experience something new, anxiety is a part of it. That’s not a bad thing. But turning our faith into a death-denial or death-removal business is to give far too much attention to death, which has already been defeated.

The more egregious problem is when we end up missing out on the rays of Resurrection light which brighten our world. Because the Resurrection is a present reality, we can live in a transfigured reality here and now. Already, knowing that Sin has been overcome, we no longer need to be in the vengeance business, but rather we can take up the ministry of reconciliation. Trusting that Death has been overcome, we can enjoy our salvation and welcome others into the abundant life that God intends for us instead of trying to make sure everyone thinks the same things as us. Having seen the glory of Resurrection, we have hope in the reality that all shall be well. In hearing the Good News of Easter, we have every confidence that love is the truest, most enduring, most powerful, most beautiful thing in all of Creation and give ourselves to following Jesus in his way of love. In the shift from “Crucify” to “Alleluia,” we see that all mistakes can be overcome and all pain redeemed.

But if, because of the sin of certainty and a mind closed to different ways of thinking, we continue to ask limited questions, we will be left with a limited sense of the grandeur of the Resurrection. God is a God of possibility, and in limiting what is possible, we end up limiting our experience of God. The charge is to keep our imaginations open, to expect to be transformed, to ask questions like “what am I missing?” Because the question to ask is not “whose wife will the woman be?”, rather the question is who are we to God? And the answer worth pursuing, with all of our life, is that we are all the beloved children of God.