The angel said to the women, “Go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He
has been raised from the dead, and indeed is going ahead of you to Galilee’;
there you will see him.’”
Suddenly Jesus met them and said… “Go and tell my brothers to go to
Galilee; there they will see me.”
If you look at Matthew’s gospel from the
perspective of a narrative with force and flow and weight, this Easter story is
not at all what you would expect. As
straight literature, the miracle of the Resurrection is superseded by suspense
relating to what will happen in Galilee.
If we took Matthew’s telling to heart, today would be a ‘low’ Sunday and
we all would gather next week to hear the dramatic conclusion. What is going on here?
Jesus, of course, was crucified just outside
the city of Jerusalem and buried nearby.
His followers were staying close enough that the women were able to walk
to the tomb in the predawn hours following the Sabbath Passover. In Matthew’s telling of the Resurrection, the
only time Jesus appears to any of his followers in Jerusalem is the single,
brief encounter with the women we heard just moments ago.
Since all of Jesus’ closest followers where
still in Jerusalem, why not meet them there?
Travelling on foot, Galilee is 68 miles to the north, which is a healthy
three or four day walk away. Getting
there will require no small effort, but, according to Matthew, that is what the
eleven remaining disciples do. Again we
ask why. Why did Christ want to meet his
followers in Galilee?
Well, in this day and age, all you have to do
to get an answer to this sort of question is type it into a google search box and
– presto – like magic you are pointed toward the insights of one Cornelius a
Lapide, a seventeenth century Flemish Jesuit and biblical scholar. Old Cornelius pondered this very question and,
after some quality reflection, put pen dipped in ink to paper and recorded his
thoughts:
He goeth before you into Galilee. First, because Galilee was the native country
of the Apostles, to which, after the death of Jesus, they were purposing to
return, that they might live more safely among their own relations.
Secondly, because in Galilee Christ willed to show
Himself openly to all His assembled disciples. For the Jews would not have permitted them to
assemble in Judea.
Thirdly, because in Galilee Christ had for the most part
preached, and had performed very many miracles.
Ahhh, if only Cornelius could see your eyes
glazing over as I can while I read his thoughts aloud. Truth does not always have to be dynamic, but
there has to be something more significant and a little less practical behind Jesus’
pointed focus to go home.
Think about this: for centuries, when people
strive to find God they often do so not by returning home, but by going away. The pilgrimage – a journey with a holy
destination – is a time-honored way to find God. So too is a retreat – leaving behind the
cares of the world for a quiet place where one can commune more closely with
the Holy. Even the weekly practice of
going to church emphasizes that when we want to find Jesus we leave home in
order to facilitate an encounter.
Home is a place of daily chores and stifling
routines. Meals must be made, floors
swept, and clothes cleaned. At home you have
to wake up early in order to go to work all day. Do this long enough and you will soon find
yourself in need of a vacation – a time of solitude and rest and
reflection. If Jesus had sent the
disciples to the beach we might have understood, but back home? It boggles the mind.
I think Corny a Lapide (and he lets friends
like me call him that) was on to something when he said the Resurrected Jesus did
not want to appear openly in Jerusalem.
Had he done so, it would have been an act with tremendous political and
ecclesiastical implications. Being the
seat of power – both for the ruling authority and for the Temple – any open post-resurrection
appearance to the masses there would have started a revolt. Roman officials would have been cast out and
Jesus enthroned. Temple officials would
have been swept away and Jesus installed.
And Rome would have responded by crushing the Jesus movement before it ever
got started.
By meeting his disciples in Galilee, Jesus is
saying that his Kingdom first and foremost is neither political nor institutional. It is personal. It begins, if it begins at all, with changed
lives and changed hearts and changed minds and changed ways. The Welsh poet and Anglican priest R.S. Thomas
beautifully captures this notion in a poem titled “The Kingdom”:
It’s
a long way off but inside it
There
are quite different things going on:
Festivals
at which the poor man
Is
king and the consumptive is
Healed;
mirrors in which the blind look
At
themselves and love looks at them
Back;
and industry is for mending
The
bent bones and the minds fractured
By
life. It’s a long way off, but to get
There
takes no time and admission
Is
free, if you purge yourself
Of
desire, and present yourself with
Your
need only and the simple offering
Of
your faith, green as a leaf.
I like Thomas’ basic message that nothing
changes in the world until something changes in you.
When Jesus meets his followers in Galilee he gives
them a charge. He does not tell them to
launch a political campaign nor does he direct them to reform the church. He tells them this: “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father,
and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I
have commanded you.” Jesus’ Kingdom is
about touching hearts and changing lives.
It is about leading people into the truths that Jesus taught; truths
that will enable individuals to live in this world with all the freedom and
grace and goodness God intended from the beginning of Creation.
In time, individuals will become communities,
and communities will become multitudes, and multitudes will become nations, and
nations will become peoples. In time,
structures will need to be redeemed and institutional faith purified. But the Kingdom begins by baptizing one
disciple at a time. Nothing changes in
the world until something changes in you.
I know some clergy who, on this day, will
call out the ‘C&E’ crowd – those people who come to church only at
Christmas and Easter. I remember one
priest telling them rather pointedly we will have services again next Sunday
and 8:00 and 10:30, in case they did not know.
As much as I like to poke fun whenever and wherever possible, I have
never warmed to chastising the ‘C&E’ folks in the parish. Here at St. Paul’s, many of the C&Eers
are visiting from out of town. You have
gone to considerable effort to be here this morning and I, for one, thank
you. Your presence adds so much to the
celebration of our Easter joy. There are
other folks here today who might mistakenly be labeled as ‘C&E’, but that
is not entirely accurate. Yes, you are
here on Christmas and Easter, but also on odd and unpredictable days – a Sunday
in July, Shrove Tuesday, two or three weeks in a row in the fall. You have your reasons and, while curious what
they might be, I will not judge them. I
am glad you are here because you too add much to the joy of our
celebration. Easter is the kind of day
that brings people to our church for the first time. You have been thinking about attending a
service, but needed the push of a high, holy day to spur you to action. You too are most welcome here. And then there are those of you who are here
pretty much every Sunday and any other time the doors are open. I can’t begin to tell you how much I enjoy
gathering with you on a regular basis to worship, to laugh, and to care for one
another.
Here is the thing we can all take away from
today: No matter how spectacular the
Resurrection is (and make no mistake, if true it is the seminal moment in human
history), this day is not an end unto itself.
The main point of this day, at least as I can discern from Matthew’s
gospel, is not to rejoice that death has been vanquished nor is it to count on
a hope of eternal life. The point of
this day is to go to Galilee (whatever and wherever that may be for you), to
live now into the teachings of Jesus, and to work now so that others might
become disciples (even as you strive to deepen and authenticate your own
discipleship). Nothing changes in the
world until something changes in you.