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SERMONS
Easter Sunday
April 8, 2007
By The Rev. Alston Johnson
". . . And they lived happily ever after. The end."
We all grow up hearing fairy tales. Some of us also grow up a bit while we are in the midst of the fairy tale. It is a familiar rite of passage. Every young girl, every young boy, curling themselves into the story of a far away place and a far away time.
Then through some magic, through the sprinkling of some pixie dust, through some wave of a magic wand we discover that there is a heroine or hero living within us.
It is the old story of the "forgotten princess." The little girl born to be a princess who is caught living in a scullery. Pots and pans, dirt and grime, brushes and rags are her daily companions. No music, no ballrooms, only grey days, and the promise of grey hair. It is the old story of a little girl dancing her lonely dream before a mirror in the lonely room . . . waiting and waiting for the locked door to open a new life to open; for the heroine within to step forth into the light.
It is the story of the hidden prince. The little boy born to be a knight caught holding the reins of others' horses. Ploughing the fields and chopping the wood are his daily companions. No trumpets, no tournaments of honor, no adventure, only grey days and the promise of grey hair. It is the old story of a boy wandering the fields and climbing the hills, stepped on by others . . . waiting and waiting for some invitation to drop the reins of others and ride off into his own sunset; finding what lies on the other side of the mountains, to wake the hero that sleeps within.
Curling ourselves up inside of a fairy tale, the young girl and boy living within each of us awakens to the story that sleeps within every human heart; the story that we were born for another place, born for another time, that there indeed is some door waiting for us into another world. The story that becomes our life- story is written as we struggle to find that doorway.
Someone I love and respect very much once said something profound. They said, "You know, the thing is, kids want something important to do. Young people want something important to do." The truth of that struck me light a bolt of lightning - the simple truth of it. I have found that it is true for adults as well.
Perhaps that is the truth we find in our fairy tales - we find our "important thing to do" in this life.
You see, there was a whole nation who was invited to step though the looking glass, who were given something important to do. A people invited to step through that doorway, into the light of a God who is living. It is the story of Israel, and that important thing for Israel is to live as the people of God. We often read these stories as children, or to children, because there is a kind of fairy-tale magic at work in them; even though they are not really just for children.
In the midst of feeling forgotten, in the midst of feeling overlooked, in the midst of feeling lost there is something like what we call magic always opening doors for Israel in the Old Testament.
The pixie dust is the dove who returns following the great flood with an olive leaf, telling Noah that the waters are receding.
The wave of the wand that opens the waters of the Red Sea so that Moses and the people might run from Pharoh's army into a life of freedom and purpose.
The magical visitor who protects Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the firey furnace of King Nebuchadnezzar so that these three brave youth men remain untouched by a fire kindled to swallow them whole.
The magic spell that is cast over the lions as Daniel waits patiently in their den for his cause to be justified.
There is even a magical fish, a larger cousin of the one at my feet, who swallows old Jonah, one that should have taken his life, but instead saves it.
You see, in each of these stories of God and Israel, God provides a "happily ever after" in the midst of a tale when reason and common sense would say "The End." Just when we fear that all is lost, we discover that all is found.
So the question comes to another generation, "Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen."
The Great Magician has provided another happily ever after.
Actually, there is something stronger than what we call magic in these stories. There is something that is not born in this world. There is something that can only be received by this world - God's love. In the limitation of our words we sometimes call it magic and miracle.
Today is our Holy Day, our Holiest of Days, because we open our hearts, our minds, our souls to hear the words spoken by the lips of God and by our own lips, that these fairy tales are more than children's stories. With Jesus, the Christ, risen there is never more a "The End" at the close of our own fairy tale, our own hero's journey never ends. Every forgotten little girl and little boy within us is indeed a princess and prince, and that our doorway into another world stands open forever.
Because on this day we stand naked before the fact that God's own Son found His important thing to do, and He did it. He did it. For you, for me, for our baptized brothers and sisters, and for those whose bodies have died, and those yet to be born.
The locked door of despair, of lonely suffering, of walking through the valley of the shadows of death, is torn from its hinges, and there is nothing more for us to do but to step into that ever burning light . . . does it feel too good to be true? Does it feel good to be true? Is that how it feels? It is too good to be true according to the way we write fairy tales; but not for the way God loves us.
The love of God is stronger than any magic that we might conjure up in our imaginations. This is a love where all noble and adventurous stories find their ending. This is our story of stepping into a light that never fades, on a hero's journey that never ends. The tomb was empty. The tomb was empty! Not by magic, but by love. Every girl a princess, every boy a prince.
As one of the old saints, Clement, once said, "All things have become light, never again to set . . . This is the new creation."
. . . and they lived happily ever after . . . Amen.
Alleleuia. He is Risen . . . |