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SERMON
Today we end our study of Luke's Gospel. These Sunday morning reflections, along with all the individual and group studies that have accompanied them, haven't begun to exhaust the wealth of wisdom and insight packed into this remarkable book. In fact, these thirty-four sermons have hardly scratched the surface. There is much here that we don't yet understand, and much we do understand but have yet to apply. How appropriate it is, then, that this book ends with the mystery of resurrection, a mystery so deep that only the mind of God can fathom it.
The story ends as it began, cloaked in mystery. Do you remember? An old woman named Elizabeth, long past her childbearing years, told her speechless husband, "Zechariah, you'd better sit down. I have news for you. I'm pregnant." It was a mystery. Meanwhile, a young woman, perhaps fourteen years old and engaged to be married, was visited by a strange messenger with the startling news that she was going to have a child, no only "without benefit of clergy" (as they used to say) - but without help from any man. But, to me, every bit as remarkable was that young woman's reply: "I am the Lord's servant," she said. "Let it be." Again, it was pure mystery - a mystery that she and Joseph would have to bear in silence while all their world looked on what appeared to be an unwanted pregnancy.
The birth of that child, a son named Jesus, was accompanied by the marvelous appearance of a great company of the heavenly host, as well as strange mix of shepherds and Magi. Then, forty days post-partum, an old prophet named Simeon met the young family at the gate of the great temple. He told Mary: "This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too." More mystery.
For the next thirty years or so Jesus lived in relative obscurity in a carpenter shop in Nazareth. After his baptism, and for about three years, he carried on a public ministry marked by astounding miracles, incisive teachings, growing popularity and a gathering storm of opposition. And then, within a one-week period his triumphal entry into Jerusalem led to confrontation, betrayal, arrest and a hurried trial, a brutal execution, and then the absolute stillness of death. It was all over. His lifeless body was laid in a borrowed tomb. The case was closed and sealed, with nothing left but memories and dashed hopes.
But then something happened - a mystery that has baffled and challenged and inspired men and women ever since. This dead man was seen alive; and not just by one or two who may have been hallucinating. He was seen by scores of people. One report says that on one occasion over five hundred people saw him. How do you explain that?
Perhaps the way to deal with the mystery is to simply confess with Scripture that "with God all things are possible." Of course that's true. But that doesn't necessarily mean that "with God all things are likely." It certainly doesn't mean that "with God all things are understandable." It's a mystery. Now, it's no less true simply because it's a mystery. But being a mystery means that it's more difficult to fit into our well-ordered way of looking at what we call "reality."
So it's my best guess that when God chooses to reveal himself in mystery, it tends to shake some of our most rudimentary assumptions about what we think is real. So let me suggest that the mystery of the resurrection of Jesus, as recorded in the final chapter of Luke's Gospel,
plays havoc with at least four of those time-honored assumptions.
1. The first assumption that the resurrection of Jesus explodes is the notion that dead people stay dead. I don't mean to appear morbid, but there's a curious kind of security in knowing that death is final. Because if death is irreversible, there are few surprises. To put it bluntly, as long as dead people stay dead, they're very predictable. On the other hand, by definition, life is unpredictable. People who are alive are loaded with surprises (not all of which are pleasant).
The women came to the tomb that first Easter, ready to make their peace with death, to lay a life to rest. And what happened? They ran headlong into the one question farthest from their minds: "Why do you look for the living among the dead?" Luke notes that their first reaction was one of fear. I wonder sometimes what they were afraid of. Were they afraid of death or afraid of life? According to Luke the disciples had an equally difficult time with the women's report. They thought it was "nonsense." Apparently they preferred the sad sense of death to the non-sense of life. But there it was: a report that, while in most cases dead people do stay dead, there is one glorious exception. And each of them would have to deal with it. So do we.
2. The second assumption that the resurrection of Jesus scraps, a close cousin to the notion that dead people stay dead, is the idea that dead hopes stay dead. Among the saddest words in the Bible, to me, were spoken by those two despondent disciples on the road to Emmaus. At verse 21 they say, "We had hoped that he was the one…" "We had hoped" - hope in the past perfect - hope that had been washed out, erased; hope that was now lost, a door slammed shut and bolted, never to be opened again. I recall one psychologist defining profound depression as "the inability to see any options, any alternatives." If that's true, then this was a case of the worst sort of depression. "We had hoped…" they said; and by implication, "But now there's nothing."
What happens when hope dies? I'll tell you what happens: your future becomes chained to your past - and the past will not set it free. Perhaps you know someone like that. They have no hope. The closest they can come to having a future is to rehearse what might have been, what could have been, what should have been - but cannot be. What a sorry state - to believe that dead hopes stay dead. It happens more often than we may realize.
It happened to those two disciples. But then by the grace of God, along came the mystery. The One who had been their reason to live, who had been brutally taken from them, was sitting with them at the table. With simple servant hands he broke the bread. And in that act he broke the hammerlock that their past had on their future. Luke says that they recognized him, and they were so excited, so filled with hope, that they couldn't wait to get back to Jerusalem. They had to tell the others that the door to the future had been blown open and nobody would ever be able to close it again. If you know someone who believes that dead hopes stay dead, tell them there's someone you'd like them to meet.
3. Some folks say that dead people stay dead. The resurrection says, "Not always." Some people are convinced that dead hopes stay dead. But the resurrection says, "Not necessarily." Here's a third assumption that the resurrection of Jesus explodes: hard evidence is irresistible. It is not uncommon to hear someone say, "If you can see, hear, smell, taste and feel it, you'll have to believe it!" Really? You find Scripture saying something quite different. Luke says that while the disciples were still talking about the risen Lord appearing to Peter and the others, Jesus himself stood among them and said, "Peace be with you." That was probably a good thing to say under the circumstances, since they thought they were seeing a ghost.
Eugene Peterson in his New Testament paraphrase, The Message, goes on at vs. 38 - He (Jesus) continued with them, "Don't be upset, and don't let all these doubting questions take over. Look at my hands, look at my feet - it's really me. Touch me. Look me over from head to toe. A ghost doesn't have muscle and bone like this." As he said this, he showed them his hands and feet. They still couldn't believe what they were seeing. It was too much; it seemed too good to be true.
The fact is that some things, no matter how real they may be, will remain unbelievable to some. Perhaps the most remarkable thing is that, even after the resurrection, the Lord didn't force himself on the skeptics. He still doesn't. He never short-circuits our intellects. He never robs us of the dignity nor absolves us of the responsibility of making up our own minds about him. In a court of law hard evidence may be irresistible. But even the resurrected Lord has each one decide for himself or herself what to make of the mystery.
4. Dead people stay dead? Not always. Dead hopes stay dead? Not necessarily. Hard evidence is irresistible? I doubt it. There's one last assumption the resurrection of Jesus explodes: only the strong survive. Well that depends on what you mean by "strong." Sometimes you'll hear people say, "It's a jungle out there and only the strong survive." There's a quite common assumption that strength means aggressiveness. But there's another kind of strong. It's persistence; like a low-voltage current that keeps on charging; or like running water - quiet, persistent; but eventually, inevitably, inexorably it breaks through.
Notice Jesus' words in verse 44. He says, "Everything must be fulfilled" - but all in good time. Then he goes on at verse 46 to say, "This is what is written: The Christ will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and repentance and forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. I am going to send you what my Father promised; but stay in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high."
If the risen Lord Jesus had wanted to overpower the opposition with a show of strength, he could have made a shattering personal appearance before the Sanhedrin or at Pilate's court or at the house of Caiaphas. But that kind of strength doesn't have staying power. Luke says that while Jesus was blessing his disciples, he left them. First they thought they had lost Jesus forever. Then he was back, but only for a time, and now here he was gone again. The hard evidence for any kind of "hard sell" was gone. Without the compelling evidence of Jesus' physical presence, how would they carry on as witnesses? Where do you suppose the disciples would go? What would be their next move?
Common sense would have dictated that they go into hiding - lie low until public attention had been directed elsewhere and it was safe to show their faces in public again. They could have gone into hiding, but they didn't. And thank God those first disciples weren't Presbyterians. If they had been, they probably would have formed a committee, taken a market sample and a done feasibility study (which probably would have accounted for the first ten years of church history). But they didn't.
The Risen Lord Jesus had given the disciples their commission to carry on as witnesses. And so they did just about the last thing you would have expected of them. Luke says they "returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they stayed continually at the temple, praising God." Right under the noses of those who had done the worst they could to destroy them, and armed only with what they knew to be true in their own experience, they waited expectantly for the Lord to give them further direction. And when that power fell at Pentecost, they set about with a quiet, determined courage to turn the world upside down as they turned people to Christ. And now, what of us who bear his name? It is our unspeakable privilege to carry on that same work as witnesses of the resurrection - stewards of the mysteries of God.
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