Romans 6:3-11
When Mother Kathleen and I plan Holy
Week, we of course have to decide who is preaching at what service. And we
don’t usually flip a coin. I was happy that this year she wanted to preach on
Easter morning, which meant that I would preach at the Vigil tonight. I was
happy because, frankly, I prefer my resurrection in the dark. Don’t get me
wrong: of course there’s a place for flowers and butterflies, bright morning
skies and Easter egg hunts. Tomorrow’s worship will be glorious, and I’ll love
it. But for me there is something primal and deeply meaningful about sitting in
the dark together, hearing the story as the night deepens around us, and
waiting for the light. After all, it’s in darkness that we most desperately
need the light; it’s in darkness that we most readily see the light. And,
personally, my most powerful experiences of the Risen Christ have come in my
darkest moments.
In our reading from Romans, Paul says: Do you not know that all of us who have been
baptized into Christ Jesus have been baptized into his death? Obviously he
doesn’t mean that we have physically died or that we have literally been
crucified. No, he makes that clear a few verses later: The death he died, he died to sin, once for all. Paul insists that
we, with Christ, have died to sin. Does that mean that we behave perfectly and
never transgress? Clearly not. Sin in this passage is more basic than that: not
just misbehavior but the source of misbehavior, the source of suffering. Sin is
separation from God. Jesus lived without sin because Jesus lived intimately
close to his Father: The death he died,
he died to sin, once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God. Many
things can cloud our lives, but the worst darkness we can ever experience is
the despair of feeling separated from God. But we have died to that sense of
separation, we have died to sin. And one way we can actually experience that in
our lives is to go to our darkest places and wait for the light.
This is something we can really practice.
And it really makes a difference. I know I need to do this frequently. For
example, not long ago I was walking our dog after dinner, and I felt terrible:
just down and anxious. But rather than try to stuff those feelings or distract
myself, I entered the darkness and let myself be aware of all that I was
feeling. It wasn’t pretty, and a lot of it came down to fear. I felt afraid
because members of my family were struggling with difficult issues that I could
not fix for them: I felt overwhelmed by everything I had to do at church and I
was afraid I couldn’t do it all; I felt afraid of what is happening in our
country and our world; and I felt inadequate, like I was failing and powerless,
which just led to even more fear. And in the midst of it all, I felt distant
from God, disconnected. Fear and anxiety were blocking any sense of God’s
presence. But I’ve been there before, and I know what to do. I stopped, and
while Nova sniffed the grass, I said, “Jesus, you see everything that is
weighing on me: I hold it before you; I don’t hide any of it from you. Please
help me. I need you now. I trust that you are close: help me feel that you are
close.” And then I walked on slowly, praying the Jesus prayer with my breath:
“Lord Jesus” breathing in, “Have mercy” breathing out. And in those moments of
darkness, the light started to shine. I could feel a weight lifting and a sense
of peace descending. My problems and concerns had not disappeared, but I felt
connected to Christ and close to God. The power of sin, that despairing sense
of being separated from God, was gone. It’s in moments like that that I know
Jesus is alive.
If we want to experience the Risen
Christ, then we need to meet him in our own darkest places, those places where
we feel disconnected from God. Lots of things can cause such darkness to
overshadow us. Fear is a primary one: if we feel afraid, that’s a sure call to
look deeply and honestly at the reasons for our fear and ask for Jesus to set
us free. If guilt is plaguing us and making us feel far from God, Christ can
offer full forgiveness and we should ask for and receive that forgiveness. And
we could go down the list: anger, frustration, sickness, loss, sheer busyness —
all these things can obscure the presence of God and make us feel cut-off. When
that happens, sin in that most basic sense is weighing us down. But Jesus
really can shine light into our darkness and lift any burden from our
shoulders, if we let him. Paul calls us to approach everything with this in
mind: The death he died, he died to sin,
once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God. So you also must consider
yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.
Consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus. Thomas Keating, the Trappist monk and teacher on
prayer, said that the only thing which separates us from God is the belief that
we are separated from God. Jesus came to set us free from ever having to
believe that again. When we feel that God is distant, we need to name what is
making us feel that way and ask Jesus to save us. I can offer you examples of
that, but I can’t give you some simple three step method to do this: each of us
needs to do it in our own way. The way I do it won’t necessarily be the best
way for you to do it. But the more we practice considering ourselves dead to
sin and alive to God, the more we will feel the power of the Risen Christ at
work in our lives.
And there is more at stake here than just
feeling close to God. When we don’t feel close to God, then we are more likely
to hurt others and hurt ourselves. When we feel separated from God, then our
worst instincts and our worst behaviors can wreak havoc. I see this in myself
all the time. In my darkest moments, it’s hard to love and to be the person I
want to be. But when I feel the Spirit of Jesus within me, when I feel close to
God, it is easier to be more loving, more patient, more compassionate, more
hopeful, more joyful. I know that Jesus is alive not because of spectacular
miracles or visions, but because of all those times when he has helped me move
from being self-absorbed, bound up in my own fear and anxiety, to being free
and present — present to God and present to others. That is sharing in the
resurrection of Jesus even now. Again, Paul says it: Therefore we have been buried
with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the
dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. Because
Christ is risen, you and I can walk in newness of life — and walking in newness
of life — a life close to God — will be our surest sign that Christ is risen.
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