Will We Ever Be the Same: A Sermon for Easter Sunday

Will we ever be the same?  “Will we ever be the same on the other side of an Easter when the churches stood empty, wondering where we’d gone?” This question, posed by the Rt. Rev’d Mark Edington, who serves as the Bishop of the Episcopal Church in Europe, gets at the heart of what I imagine many of us are feeling today. Will we ever be the same?

 Indeed, Easter Sunday is the day when Christians feel most compelled to “gather together and celebrate” in our churches. Christmas Eve is # 2. Mother’s Day – even though it is not a religious holiday – is # 3. Church attendance records all over the world prove this to be true. Easter Sunday is THE most-attended worship service of the year. 

If we’re honest with ourselves, for most Christians today, the lack of Sunday worship attendance over the past month has not been that disorienting. Again, statistics tell us that only a very small percentage of Christians attend worship every week, or even every other week. The average worship attendance for active Christians today is somewhere around once a month. So the shutting down of public worship over the past month has not been an inconvenience for most Christians. If anything, it might even be serving as a sort of relief - those who don’t attend church, but feel sort of guilty about that, don’t have to feel that way anymore. 

But Easter changes everything. Today, many are suddenly feeling the gravity of not being able to gather and celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. Dare I say that for many of us, today actually feels a bit more like Good Friday than Easter Sunday? Dare I say that today is the day when many of us are finally coming to terms with the reality of not being able to gather and celebrate? 

We must remember… that first Easter morning, Mary Magdalene’s first emotion was a combination of profound grief and fear. The first words out her mouth on that day were not “Alleluia, Christ is risen!” Her first words to Peter and John were, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” When they returned to the empty tomb, Peter and John went inside to investigate. But St. John tells us that “Mary stood weeping outside the tomb.” Before there was rejoicing on that first Easter Sunday, there was weeping. 

I imagine that today, for many of us, before there will rejoicing, there will be weeping. Maybe that is a little dramatic. As Anglicans, we tend to prefer subdued grief over weeping and wailing. But where there is not weeping, there will still be the feeling of emptiness. However we express ourselves, I believe that Christians all over the world today are grieving - grieving over not being able to gather together at church to worship, praise, and celebrate on the most holy, joyful, festive day of the year. I know that my grief has been subtle-yet-profound over the past few weeks. And I am grieving today as I look out at an empty church.

If and when we get through that first pang of grief this morning and are able to turn the corner and joyfully offer our response - “The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!” – the question remains… “Will we ever be the same on the other side of an Easter when the churches stood empty, wondering where we’d gone?”

The most anxious Christians – whether they be clergy, lay people, scholars, or bloggers - are beginning to wonder if Christ’s Church will be able to survive being “closed” for this long of a time period. How will the Church be able to recover? Won’t most people simply forget about the Church in the midst of all the other worries they may have? Even when this pandemic subsides, will the “habit” of churchgoing and supporting churches with our time, talent, and treasure ever return? Will we ever be the same?

My answer is “no.” We will not be the same – as individuals, communities, a nation, or a Church. We will never be the same. But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. One of the most prominent themes of the Bible – and certainly of the New Testament – is change. God’s people are always being called to transformation. Humankind was never the same after the Fall. God’s people were never the same after they experienced slavery in Egypt or exile in Babylon. And the world was never the same after God became incarnate in Jesus Christ and suffered death on the cross for our redemption. And the world was never the same after Jesus rose from the dead, asserting his dominion over the powers and principalities of the world; asserting his dominion over sin, death, and evil; asserting his dominion over the cosmos. Time and time again our scriptures tell stories of new, transformed life emerging from catastrophe.

Bp. Edington – who I quoted earlier – responds to his own question of whether or not we will ever be the same on the other side of Easter. He points out that “At the very center of the meaning of this day is the story of another empty structure – an empty tomb. From that emptiness emerged a set of ideas of incalculable influence on human life, culture, and thought.” 

When framed this way, we are being invited to remember that the emptiness of the tomb leads to the abundance of new, transformed, eternal life. As an Easter people, our alleluiasare proclaimed just as the echoes of weeping are fading. The empty tomb doesn’t mean that Jesus is dead and his body has been stolen. The empty tomb means that Jesus is alive, and everything has been changed forever.

In our Psalm today, the psalmist proclaims “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord.” Mary Magdalene lived into these words boldly and faithfully. She was never the same when she encountered her Risen Lord. She became Christ’s first preacher; Christ’s first evangelist; the first bearer of the Good News of the Risen Lord to the world.

The Christian Church has faced persecutions, plagues, economic recessions, scandals, and countless other hardships. But the Church has steadfastly persisted through the ages. The Church, like the psalmist, has declared, “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord.” Our foundational story – the truth upon which we stand and shout “Alleluia!” – is a story about death being overcome by life; evil being overcome by good; injustice being overcome by justice; hate being overcome by love.

As Bp. Edington said, “From [the] emptiness [of the tomb] emerged a set of ideas of incalculable influence on human life, culture, and thought.” But not only did influential ideas emerge from the empty tomb. Jesus Christ – the light and savior of the world - emerged from the tomb. Sin, death, and evil no longer had dominion over him. And not just the world, but the entire cosmos was changed forever. And this is our Easter story. 

Will we ever be the same on the other side of an Easter when the churches stood empty, wondering where we’d gone?” I don’t think so. I believe that the gravity of the COVID-19 pandemic will change us forever – as individuals, as well as local, national, and global communities. And our churches won’t be the same either. But that to me isn’t necessarily a bad thing. 

We must remember that the Christian story tells us that no earthly power will ever have the last word with us. But that does not mean that there will never be suffering. Jesus underwent unimaginable suffering when he was mocked, beaten, and crucified on the cross. To be an Easter people does not make us immune to suffering, or even death. Many people all over the world have already died of the COVID-19 virus, and many more will before it is over. And for that we grieve. But to be an Easter people also means that even this harrowing truth does not have the last word. In the Proper Preface for the Commemoration of the Dead in the Book of Common Prayer, the celebrant prays, “Through Jesus Christ our Lord; who rose victorious from the dead, and comforts us with the blessed hope of everlasting life. For to your faithful people, O Lord, life is changed, not ended; and when our mortal body lies in death, there is prepared for us a dwelling place eternal in the heavens.”

Should we ever be the same after hearing such Good News as this? I think not. No matter how many times we hear the story – no matter where we are and how many people we are with – we should be open to being profoundly changed by the Good News of Easter; the Good News that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead. And we should be open to what that Good News means for us as individuals as well as us as the human race. Alleluia. Christ is risen! The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!