Easter
Sermon preached by Reverend Carolyn Patierno
April 16th, 2006

Another Easter. Easter becomes more meaningful to me as each year goes by. Perhaps that’s something to do with growing older. Perhaps this year, this week it is because All Souls formally begins a new chapter of our history, “new life” taking on a particular meaning this week as we turn our attention to the manner in which our ministry will broaden. We spoke and heard a lot of “Alleluias” this week. It was the message that I had written upon the cake I ordered to celebrate our closing. It was in the subject line of the e-mail that went out to the building project, capital campaign, and annual fund teams to share the news that we closed the deal. Alleluia!

Let’s say it together: Alleluia!

“Alleluia!” is a word heard in all Christian churches this Easter morning. And as the roots of our tradition are Christian, we honor that heritage. Each year my task is to consider and interpret Easter in terms of our liberal religious perspective. The themes are laden with meaning. In their upcoming gatherings, those participating in the small group ministry will be considering the meaning of resurrection. I consider resurrection stories those that capture new life that follows devastation and a certain death. These “Alleluia!” stories – the ones that tell of the strength one had to muster in order to roll away the stone, largely are the stories that form our character. And we love to hear them.

We long for Alleluia! Case in point: let’s consider the Gospel story shared today. It’s the story of Jesus’ rising from the dead as told in the Gospel according to Mark. This is a peculiar Gospel from start to end. My New Testament professor was a Mark scholar. She had us watch a video of an artist who performed the entire gospel in order to show how much humor is there. Surprise, surprise … it was funny. But the original ending - the one we heard this morning is problematic. It concludes thusly, “And the women came out and ran away from the tomb because they were frightened and they said nothing to a soul, for they were afraid.”

What’s wrong with this picture?

There is no “Alleluia” part of the story! The Alleluia! part of the story is missing. Presumably, no one was told. The women were afraid of what they saw and chose to tell no one.

We all know the potentially crippling effects of fear. We know that sometimes in the face of really great news, we are sometimes afraid to believe it. Or sometimes, even, we’re afraid that if we say it out loud, the good news will disappear, as if a dream or that it will be jinxed and disappear.

But what does that say about our faith in what we can make happen or what good fortune may bring, if we are unwilling to embrace this joy? If we are afraid or too caught up to stand back and say, “Glory be.”

We NEED the Alleluia! part of the story. Case in point: years later, an additional ending was tagged onto the Gospel of Mark. The alternative reel. Most scholars agree that a different writer contributed this second ending in which Mary of Magdala tells Jesus’ friends what she had seen. They don’t believe her, but her telling starts the story on another track.

Alleluia! is a word of praise. Praise is when we stand back in awe of … well, whatever it is that moves us to say, “That’s awesome!” And we offer praise … sometimes in the form of the word “Alleluia!”

There is an entire genre of music that is called praise music. The idea is to sing and be moved by words of praise. We have our own brand of praise music – you have heard several of these this morning. We’ve sung two hymns that capture this spirit and as well, there is an entire section of our hymnal that is dedicated to “praise & transcendence.” In fact, we’re going to sing one of them right now – right in the middle of the sermon! Let’s sing Now Let Us Sing and see what kind of spirit it conjures in our hearts and minds.

Praise is an exclamation point. It’s the reason we had to speak our chalice lighting with a strong spirit. It lifts us up and out of ourselves, lifts up the blinders and forces us to take notice of the world around us … as does the little girl on the cover of your orders of service. She says:

Glory be for … all small things that wing their praise.
Glory be for those who praise in ways they swim.
Glory be for those that whisper holy praise in silver trails.
Glory be for the mighty chorus of the dawn. A fiercely untamed praise is theirs, this thundering roar of primal prayers.
the wild, the tame –
all creatures by their being
praise the Spirit’s name.

I love this idea that by being exactly who we are, exactly all of the time, we are the embodiment of praise. Praise is a posture – a reaching out to what is beyond … our best selves. Look at the way this little girl holds her arms out to her world … to the Spirit.

I am fortunate to live close to the water and the beach. (I still find it hard to believe my good fortune that this is true.) When I walk to the beach, usually in the mornings, I feel compelled to strike that stance. To hold my arms out to the horizon, to the beauty that claims the day despite the headlines I left on the kitchen counter and I raise my arms to the sea and am compelled to say,

I thank You God for most this
amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits
of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and
for everything
which is natural which is infinite
which is yes

[I who have died am alive again
today …

There’s a resurrection poem for you. There’s an alleluia. Thank you, ee cummings.

So, I’m asking you to put that little girl on your refrigerator so that you remember to whisper, “Alleluia” in the middle of the night when you need a little something to eat and there’s food to satisfy your hunger … so that you remember to say, “Glory be” even if you’re feeling dreary … so that you remember to offer praise … to your children … your co-workers … your spouse … to Spirit … so that you remember to say, “yes” to new life. Yes to resurrection. So that you may stay the path of gratitude and praise.

Happy Easter, friends. Happy spring.

Amen.

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