APRIL 8, 2007 PASTOR SCOTT FULLER
ACTS 10:34-43; PSALM 118:1-2, 14-24; I CORINTHIANS 15:19-26; JOHN 20:1-18
A Beautiful Benediction
Prepare our hearts, Lord, to receive your Word. Silence in us any voice but your own that in hearing we may believe and in believing we may obey your will revealed to us in Jesus Christ. Amen.
Dear friends in Christ: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
The Lord bless you and keep you.
The Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious unto you.
The Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace (Num. 6:24-26).
Those words concluded every worship service that I remember attending as a child. I wasn’t exactly sure what they all meant. But for the most part I understood the meaning behind them: that God wants us to have a good life, filled with an abundance of spiritual blessings.
Certainly I would have been, and probably still am, hard-pressed to say exactly what it means to have the Lord’s face shining on us, to say nothing of having God’s countenance lifted upon us...?
But this much I know: that benediction always leaves me feeling good; that gracious blessing always warms my heart; that delightful decree declares to me that the Lord desires little more from me than that I get it about God’s love, that I hear this Word of good news and trust it, that I believe in Jesus Christ and his promise to bless us and all people always.
There is a direct connection between what we hear and what we believe. You who are parents and teachers…what happens to a child that is constantly told he/she is lazy and dumb? Yeah, unless a miracle occurs, that child will grow up to be…lazy and dumb.
Of course, it’s also possible to go too far the other way. Back when our son, Mark, was in the second grade, his class was given a “self-esteem” assignment. They were supposed to write one sentence describing how they felt about themselves. At his parent/teacher conferences, Mark’s teacher pulled out his paper and said with a roll of her eyes, Well, there’s certainly no self-esteem problem here! In bold, black letters Mark “humbly” proclaimed, I am the best thing in the world.
It’s true that words wield an incredible power in our lives – both for good and for ill. You remember that old retort: Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me… If only that last part were also true: for we all know how harsh words can hurt our hearts, how caustic comments can cut to the quick, how irresponsible rumors can ruin reputations.
In addition to their potential to cause pain, another negative aspect of words is their sheer volume in today’s world. From t.v. and talk radio to stereos and cell phones, and from lap-tops and i-pods to CD’s and DVD’s…it’s possible to surround ourselves with words and sound twenty-four hours a day. The effect, I’m afraid, is that it numbs us and dumbs us…
Then the opposite can also happen: a life-changing experience causes a sudden absence of a loved one in our lives, leaves a wide-open wound in the deepest parts of our hearts. Then we find ourselves longing for any kind of presence, aching for any type of word, yearning for just one more chance to hear the sound of that voice. Alfred Lord Tennyson immortalized this heartache at death in his poem, “Break, Break, Break.” Cries this poet, O for the touch of a vanished hand and the sound of a voice that is still…
This is where we find Mary Magdalene on that first Easter morning. All her life she has endured words that caused more pain than any sticks or stones. And the last few days have been nothing but a cacophony of cries like: Crucify him!; or Come down from the cross if you are the Christ!
And now it’s the silence that is deafening, the ache in her heart that no words can describe, the emptiness in her soul as she stumbles through the early morning light. Her entire existence has been reduced to this simple task: anointing the body of her dead rabbi.
We get that way when life is shaken to the core: lost in a fog, dazed and confused…it’s a triumph to simply put one foot in front of the other. The smallest tasks seem monumental, the slightest setbacks insurmountable.
So focused was Mary on this final goodbye, that the messengers in the tomb are nothing more than wisps of mist in a foggy night. So convinced was she by the horror of the cross, that there was only one explanation for the empty tomb: Jesus’ body had been stolen. So sure was she of Jesus’ death, that the man she sees through her veil of tears must be the gardener…
Imagine how her mind fought to explain the sound of the voice that had been stilled, the touch of the hand that had vanished from her life. One word is spoken…and all those cruel, cutting comments are forgotten. One brief expulsion of air…and the hole in her heart is instantly healed. One simple name is said, and Mary’s spirit gets it: that voice will never be stilled again, that touch will never disappear from our lives!
It is this same resurrected Jesus who speaks your name and mine, who speaks the name of every child, every person on this planet. Some hear it in the heights of happiness, others in that pit of pain; but for everyone everywhere this good news is the same. Says Jesus to each one of us: You are the best thing in the world!
That’s how the Lord’s face shines on us, how his countenance is lifted upon us, how God gives us peace: we are named and claimed, called and sent to delight in sharing this love that knows no bounds. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Amen.