Little Philip, born with Down's syndrome, attended a third-grade Sunday School class with several eight-year-old boys and girl

“Witnesses for the Risen Lord”

The Reverend Donald L. Hamer

April 8, 2007

Easter Day, Year C

Acts 10:34-43 Ps 118:1-2,14-24 1 Cor 15:19-26 Luke 24:1-12

Good Morning. What a joy it is to share this day together in fellowship and worship as we celebrate the day of our Lord’s Resurrection – the most important holy day of our Christian faith. No matter where we are on our life’s journey, our presence here this morning is an important affirmation of that faith. Our participation in this celebration of praise and thanksgiving gives witness to our own faith, our own belief in the power of the resurrected Christ to gain ultimate victory over the forces of evil and death. Despite the fact that many of us would be uncomfortable saying that we are “witnessing” to our faith – “Do Episcopalians really do that sort of thing???” – when we go to church we are witnessing to a faith that at some level tugs at us.

Our appointed Scripture passages this morning draw our attention to the role of witnesses in the Easter story. Our passage from the Acts of the Apostles reminds us four times that “We are witness to all that he did both in Judea and in Jerusalem” and to all of the events of Holy Week. It reminds us that WE didn’t decide to become witnesses – we were “chosen by God as witnesses.” The author, St. Luke, says that Jesus “commanded us to . . . testify that he is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead.” Now, as many of you know, I have some experience with the importance of witnesses through what some people call my notorious prior career before I was ordained because, yes, I was an attorney. And of course attorneys deal with witnesses all the time – it is virtually part of their life’s blood. Even in legal work that does not end up in a court of law, what people have to say about an issue – and their perceptions about what it is they are describing – inevitably colors the nature of the legal work to be accomplished.

How many of you ever watch Law and Order? Or for those of you in the previous generation, how many of you watched Perry Mason? If you watch any of these types of shows, then you know the surprises that can happen on the witness stand: The prosecution witness who is suddenly confronted with a scene from their shady past. A defense witness who unexpectedly pokes a hole in the defendant’s alibi. Or perhaps most exciting, when the defendant himself or someone in the courtroom stands up and, to everyone’s surprise, announces that he, in fact, DID IT. Now, what you don’t see in those shows are the countless hours that the lawyers spend, behind the scenes, preparing the witness so that those things DO NOT happen. How to phrase the statement – how to nuance an observation – what NOT to say. It isn’t exactly lying – it is shading the truth to get one’s point understood. And I have to admit that when I became a judge, I had many amused moments on the other side of the bench, watching exasperated lawyers who couldn’t get their clients to reproduce the responses they were expecting.

The fact of the matter is that the testimony of witnesses is not a hard science. Two people can look at the same scene or witness the same incident and make two different reports. They may have focused on different things, or not noticed a particular aspect. Even eye-witness testimony is the product of our perceptions, our prejudices, our way of looking at the world, even the way we think about ourselves. Sometimes, what we remember seeing is colored by what we expected to see.

Look at the witnesses to the events of this morning’s Gospel. The women who came with the spices to embalm Jesus were the same women who were the last to leave the scene of the crucifixion on Good Friday. The two angels the women find at the tomb testify to what has happened – that Jesus is not there, that he has risen. And then they engage in the process of jogging the memories of the women with a practice that in legal evidence is called “past recollection refreshed” – that is, reminding you of something. “Remember how he told you,” the angels remind them, “while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.” Then, the Gospel tells us, they remembered his words, and ran to tell the disciples. The disciples, who were no where to be seen at the end of the crucifixion, don’t believe the women when they come to tell them the news that Jesus had indeed risen. To them, the words of the women seemed like “an idle tale, and they did not believe them.” They had heard the teachings of Jesus – they had heard the predictions. But clearly they didn’t put a whole lot of stock in them – they never expected things to play out this way.

The reaction of the disciples is embarrassing when compared to that of a young boy named Philip. Philip, an 8-year-old born with Down’s syndrome, attended a third-grade Sunday School class. Typical of that age, the children of the class did not readily accept Philip as a peer. But because of a creative teacher, they began to care about Philip and accept him as part of the group, though not fully. The Sunday after Easter the teacher brought in a bunch of empty L’eggs pantyhose containers, the kind that look like large eggs. Each child was given an empty egg, and told to go outside on that lovely spring day and find some symbol for new life, and put it in the container. Back in the classroom, they would share their new-life symbols, opening the containers one by one. After running about the church property in wild confusion, the students returned to the classroom and placed the containers on the table. Surrounded by the children, the teacher began to open them one by one. After each one, whether flower, butterfly, or leaf, the class would ooh and ahh. Then the teacher opened an egg that was empty inside. The children exclaimed, “That’s not fair. Somebody didn’t do their assignment.” Philip spoke up, “That’s mine.” “Philip, you don’t ever do things right!” a student teased. “There’s nothing there!” “I did so do it,” Philip insisted. “I did do it. It’s empty. The tomb was empty!” Silence followed. From then on Philip became a full member of the class. (From the Journal Leadership).

Philip’s classmates expected to find a flower, or a bug, or some other natural symbol of new life. When they didn’t find that, all they saw was an empty space. Philip, on the other hand, expected to find an empty space, and in that space he found the ultimate symbol of new life – the fulfillment of Jesus’ promise to rise on the third day – the promise of the coming of God’s kingdom here on earth and the promise of everlasting life.

What are some of the signs of the Resurrection? What should we be looking for? What does Resurrection life look like?

Our Collect this morning gives us these suggestions: It involves the opening of gates, inviting people in, not the closing of gates to keep people out. It involves celebration and joy. It is life-giving – not just allowing us, but encouraging us to live life to the fullest. Resurrection life, while not always easy, should not be life-draining or life-limiting. It should be everything we need to be in order to become the people God desires us to be.

Our friend St. Luke, the author of the Acts of the Apostles, gives us some other ideas. Resurrection life comes with a message of Peace – the Peace – Capital “P” – that only God can give, because Jesus is Lord of all. It is marked by the power of the Holy Spirit, allowing us to accomplish things that we dare not even imagine with our earthly limitations. It involves “doing good”. It involves healing all who are oppressed or suffering. It involves forgiveness, even when that is hard or painful for us.

This week has been an inspiring journey with Jesus as he moves on his own journey from human life, through suffering and death, to resurrection life. On Thursday evening, Mother Joan shared her reflections on what it means to live out Jesus’ new commandment to love one another at least as much as we love ourselves. Then on Friday, Yejide told us about her visit to help reconstruct the poorest sections of New Orleans. She drew unmistakable parallels between the institutional racism and poverty that consign some people to live in the areas of New Orleans where the city levees are prone to break. She compared that to the stench of bitter wine that Jesus was offered on the cross. And then last evening, Ian Markham reflected on the meaning of Jesus’ descent into Hell following his death and before the Resurrection. Hell, he told us, is any place where God is not – Hell is the absence of the Divine.

And so here we are – the Feast of the Resurrection. Around the walls of the Nave are hung pieces from the collections of various members in our parish which speak to “Resurrection Life.” In a couple of weeks, during Eastertide, the bulbs that Bert Landman and Larry Besel planted after All Saints Day will be showing new life, representing that great “cloud of witnesses” of the Communion of Saints who have gone before us as the tulips sprout up and go into full bloom.

The question we need to ask ourselves this morning is, “What kind of witness will I be?” We have seen the witnesses of Holy Week – Judas betraying Jesus by his witness; Peter denying Jesus by his. We have seen the women who were the last ones around the cross of Jesus and the first ones to visit the tomb on Sunday. We have the rest of the apostles, who abandoned Jesus at the cross and didn’t believe the testimony of the women returning from the empty tomb. And we have the witness of little Philip. And so Jesus asks us, “What kind of witness will YOU be?” Amen.