Sermon for Easter Day

March 27, 2005

St. Luke’s Church

Eric M. Williams

What’s Your Future?

“Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth,

for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.”

“Twelve-year-old Justin P. loved to fish and snorkel before he died in an accident on an all-terrain vehicle. Now his parents think they've found a way for their son to remain close to the water he loved. They mixed his ashes with cement to form a hollow concrete ball that was placed in the shallow water off Sarasota in late October. The ball helps restore a critical underwater habitat while becoming a living memorial with coral and fish. "In a way, he's still alive," said Justin's mother, Lorna. "It is so reassuring that I know he is [spending eternity] where he loved to be the most, with his fish."[1]

If you talk to any funeral director today you will find out

that there is a dramatic rise in custom funerals.

People are no longer content with traditional ways of mourning,

but are finding new and innovative ways to bury their dead.

One of these new options was recently featured on TV.

You can take your loved one to LifeGem,

an Illinois company that will turn your loved one’s

ashes into a real diamond.[2]

The cost ranges from $2,500 to over $13,000,

depending on how many carats you want.

And if a diamond or a coral reef isn’t your thing,

you can send your ashes up in fireworks or even out into space.

While this may seem strange,

at first glance it also seems relatively harmless.

If this gives people comfort, helps them grieve, so be it.

After all, it is their money.

But at second glance, some of these practices

reveal a profoundly unchristian view of death and of life.

I am haunted by the words of the mother whose son is in the reef:

“In a way, he’s still alive.”

Justin does not live on because his remains are now part of the coral.

Nor would he live on because of being turned into a diamond.

Our Christian hope has nothing whatsoever to do

with where or how we are buried or cremated.

Now don’t get me wrong. Funerals are important.

The problem comes when we won’t let go,

when our grief leads us to hold on.

When Mary came to the tomb on that first Easter Day,

she came expecting a body, a tomb, a place to mourn.

She wanted to hold on to Jesus as she remembered him,

to keep him alive in her memory and in her heart.

But then something else happened, something surprising, something amazing.

Jesus was not in the tomb, but was standing outside, alive.

She was so focused on his death that she didn’t even recognize him

until he called her by name.

And in that one moment her life changed forever.

She had to let go of everything she thought she knew,

everything her life had taught her to expect.

And it took her a little while to adjust.

“Do not hold on to me,” Jesus said to her.

Having just gotten him back,

was she now to lose him all over again?

But Jesus knew that what she wanted

was to go back to the way things were,

to hold on to the relationship, the friendship they had,

to freeze things in time.

And that was not possible.

Jesus was not raised from the dead to comfort his friends,

but to accomplish God’s work for the whole world,

the promise of new life, of resurrection for all people.

And to do that, Jesus had one more journey to make.

His mission would not be complete until he had ascended

to his Father and our Father,

to his God and our God.

And so he could not let Mary hold on to him.

Not yet.

Our lesson from Colossians echoes Jesus’ words to her.

“Set your minds on things that are above,

not on things that are on earth.”

I am sure she would happily have stayed in that garden with Jesus.

But, like Jesus, Mary had her own mission to fulfill.

She needed to let go of the earthly past,

so that she could get on with her heavenly future.

She needed to set her mind on things above.

And so Mary, who was the first to get to Jesus’ tomb,

also became the first witness to his resurrection,

the first to bring this amazing news to the other disciples,

and thus to the world.

Today on this Easter Day we follow in Mary’s footsteps.

We come to the tomb once again.

But what are we expecting?

Like Mary, too often we want to hold on to Jesus,

not the risen powerful life-changing Jesus,

but the memory of the comfortable Jesus

we have known since childhood.

We too want to freeze time, to look back to the past,

to cling to the comfortable realities we have known.

But then Jesus calls our name and everything changes.

Jesus is not just alive “in a way,” not just a sentimental memory.

He is alive in every way, powerfully alive,

alive enough to transform our lives forever.

Because Jesus is alive we can have a future,

a future not as a coral reef or even a beautiful diamond,

but as a living citizen of God’s kingdom.

Because Jesus is alive our lives can be different.

We don’t need to fear death.

We can live confidently, boldly, courageously,

just as he did.

Sadly most of us do not live confidently, boldly or courageously.

Our lives are not full of joy or passion or risk.

Instead we live quietly, cautiously, even fearfully.

Our minds are not set on things above;

they remain firmly fixed on things below.

If the truth be told very little of our time and energy

ever makes it past the lowest hanging clouds.

We are so consumed with our jobs,

with trivial errands and busy work,

with rehearsals and dentist appointments

and trips to the supermarket—

a host of worries great and small.

We accomplish little because we dare little,

we risk little,

we expect little.

Easter reminds us how silly that is.

Because Jesus is alive there is no longer anything to fear.

Nothing.

Death was the worst thing the devil had against us,

and now even death has lost its sting,

its power, its dreadful hold.

If we can truly grasp that, our lives can change.

This Easter I beg you, I implore you,

take a risk for God.

Do something out of character, out of the ordinary.

Live one day, no, one hour,

as if you were totally free from every fear, every restraint,

everything that holds you back from serving God totally.

Make a fool of yourself.

What have you got to fear?

What have you got to lose?

I’m not usually a big country-western fan,

but I recently heard a song I liked a lot.

I’m sure many of you know it.

The lyrics spoke to me of the message of Easter.

It’s a song by Tim McGraw about a man who discovers he has terminal cancer.

He said I was finally the husband, that most the time I wasn't. And I became a friend, a friend would like to have. And all of a sudden goin' fishin, wasn't such an imposition. And I went three times that year I lost my dad. Well I finally read the good book, and I took a good long hard look at what I'd do if I could do it all again. And I loved deeper And I spoke sweeter And I gave forgiveness I'd been denyin'. And he said some day I hope you get the chance To live like you were dyin'.

That’s the message of Easter—to live each day as if we were dying;

To set our minds on the things that are above;

To allow Christ to set us free from our fears,

free to live and serve boldly, joyfully and courageously.

So what’s it going to be this Easter? What’s your future?

The diamond, the coral reef, or new life in the kingdom of God?

Christ is risen. What about you?

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[1] http://www.aggregateresearch.com/caf/flyash/article.asp?id=5282

[2] http://www.lifegem.com/index.asp