Monday, April 9, 2012

Out of Darkness


Easter Sunrise Message – 2012
John 20:1-10; Psalm 116:1-9,23-26; Isaiah 25:6-9; John 20:11-18

On Saturday, two weeks before Easter, I began working on my message for the Sunrise Service. I was reviewing the scripture readings for the day and pulling together a liturgy and bulletin information to share with other worship leaders. And in the middle of my reflections I got a disturbing phone call. It was a call to let me know about the death of Rachel, a beautiful young woman whose life was full of promise. My focus on the celebration of Easter was interrupted by the terrible reality of the darkness of life. My thoughts, my prayers, my heart turned to Rachel's family and the pain and grief that they were experiencing, even as I was preparing for celebrating good news.
Too many times over the years I have been with families as they grieved the death of children. There is a pain and a darkness that comes over your life at such a time that no one can fully understand unless they have experienced it. Even then, one person's grief is totally their own. Even spouses may have different experiences of grief with the same loss. The darkness is real.

I had a patient in hospice care, several years ago that was having a crisis of faith. She had worked, at different times in her life, as an aid in a nursing home and as counselor with a child protective services. She saw abuses of older adults who were dependent on the care of staff, she saw abuses of children within families where they should be nurtured and protected. Her question to me was “If there is a God who is a God of love, why is there so much abuse of elderly and of children?” The darkness of our world is real.

For Mary Magdalene, the darkness of the morning didn't hold a candle to the darkness she felt throughout her very being. The one person who had honestly and sincerely loved her and allowed for her true self to grow and breathe, was tragically and brutally killed by the official powers, by the government and religious leaders. The grief must have been profound. The darkness was real. And she made her way to the burial place to offer one last act of love.

In her grief she was unable to recognize the person who stood with her in the garden, who stood with her in her pain and sorrow. She did not recognize him until the moment when he spoke one particular word. He spoke her name: “Mary.” I can almost hear the tenderness, the love, the compassion in the stranger's voice. I can only imagine the stirring of recognition in the familiarity of how he spoke her name, and how, deep down in her darkness a new light began to glow with a power all it's own. “Mary.” “Rabbouni.” There is a light shining in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it.

How do you experience light in your times of darkness? Does it come in the form of a kind, affirming word from someone close to you? Perhaps it is an unexpected gift, like when I was in seminary 30 years ago and the Presbyterian Women would occasionally send me a $50 check. It seemed to arrive just when it was needed the most. Have you experienced God's light and love when a friend sat with you in your distress, not trying to make it better, just being with you? Or maybe it came with a hug that seemed to say, “It's going to work out. Whatever it is, it's going to work out.” The light may break through the darkness as you are recuperating from surgery and feeling useless as your spouse is doing your jobs around the house as well as her own, and without out a word your neighbor rides his lawnmower across the street and mows your lawn.

Yes, there is darkness.
It is all around us.
But there is light shining in the darkness
and the darkness cannot over come it.

Jesus Christ IS that light.
God's love IS that light.
The resurrection and the defeat of death's power IS that light.

Whenever and wherever God's love is expressed
there is that light.
Whenever followers of Jesus live out the love of Jesus,
that light is expressed.
When you respond to hate with love
you ARE that light.
When you respond to hurt with compassion
you ARE that light.
When you respond to need with help
you ARE that light.
When you see injustice and you seek to turn it around,
you ARE that light.

God does not need our participation for God's light to shine.
But imagine how much further the darkness will be driven away
if we participate in light of God's amazing and wonderful love.

Christ is risen! Alleluia.
The Lord is risen, indeed. Allelulia.



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