Posted by Priest on April 26, 2009 under Sermons | 
A couple of weeks ago, I had dinner with a friend at Olympia Restaurant down on Denman Street. Even though we work in different professions, we both share a passion for history in general and for the history of the British Isles in particular. My friend, however, really enjoys English history, especially the Tudors, while my passion lies with the Kingdom of the Scots, especially the Scottish Reformation. In fact, some of you might not know that I am a graduate of the University of Edinburgh, one of the four ancient Scottish universities. You heard right: four ancient universities, twice as many as in England! You know where this is going, right? Yes, my friend and I enjoy friendly banter about England and Scotland. And it is really fun to engage in this kind of banter with somebody as educated, as knowledgeable, and as genuinely wonderful as my friend – even if he is an English savage! Just kiddin’.
Yet, one does wonder why some countries seem to be so ignorant of their awe-inspiring Northern neighbours? Maybe they feel threatened or they can’t deal with the beauty and greatness North of the border? Of course, I am just talking about German-Dutch relationships here….
But, I am getting sidetracked. Let me get back to the conversation with my friend. As I said, he is interested in the Tudors and I love chatting about the Scottish Reformation. And, if you know your British history, you’ll realize that there are some overlaps. Just remember, the last Tudor monarch, Elizabeth I, was succeeded in 1603 by James VI, the first protestant king on the Scottish throne. Yep, the Scots just took over the English throne – quite a reason to be smug if you are Scottish (or if you graduated from a Scottish university).
Now, I have to admit, Elizabeth I is a favourite of mine. In fact, she is one of my heroines – even though she is English. I believe we have to thank her for a lot of what we now value about Anglicanism. Unlike the common perception, it wasn’t her father and his marriage policies that shaped the Church of England at the time of the Reformation. Henry VIII was a terrible despot, who did not use the prophetic insights of the Reformation to rebuild a decrepit ecclesiastical institution or to reform a ruined church. But Henry VIII severed the Church of England’s ties with the Bishop of Rome to satisfy his political and, one must add, his sexual and dynastic ambitions.
No, we have instead to thank Elizabeth I for moulding the Church of England into an independent, self-governing, and functioning member of Christ’s one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church. And we have to thank Archbishop Thomas Cranmer, the father of the first Book of Common Prayer. He was the ecclesiastical leader of the English Reformation and to this day, his liturgical skills allow many Christians to deepen their connection with the Divine Mystery. Just think of his translation of the Collect for Purity, which we pray almost every time we gather for Communion. It is almost second nature to Anglicans. And I quote:
Almighty God, unto whom all hearts be open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid: Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of thy Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love thee, and worthily magnify thy holy Name: through Christ our Lord. Amen.
Yes, Thomas Cranmer is a hero of mine, too.
And this is where the evening with my friend a few weeks ago got interesting. While we could agreed that Henry VIII was a disaster, we were just not of one mind about either Elizabeth I or Thomas Cranmer. Furthermore, my friend had a rather high opinion of Thomas Moore, Lord Chancellor to Henry VIII, who remained violently loyal to the Church of Rome and who was responsible for the burning of many Protestants, and whom I cannot stand. My friend and I had a big discussion about it all. It was a discussion that was passionate, and intentional, but it was also light-hearted at times and fun. Neither of us got up from the table. Neither of us stopped breaking bread with the other. And both of us left the restaurant alive.
Which is more than can be said about either Thomas Cranmer or Thomas Moore. Henry VIII had Thomas Moore beheaded when the latter refused to sign the Act of Supremacy, which cemented the Church of England’s break with the Church of Rome. Thomas Cranmer was burnt at the stake by Henry’s daughter Mary, whose staunch support for the Roman papacy consumed a number of those she considered heretics. She wasn’t called “Bloody Mary” for nothing!
It is disturbing in our day and age that the powerful during the age of the Reformation had no scruples in killing fellow Christians. What madness! What utter madness! How could people be so narrow-minded, so afraid of others? How could one kill over such minor disagreements? The church really has blood on its fingers and both Anglicans and Romans must be careful about how to commemorate these saints, who were also sinners who sometimes confused the earthly power of rather human institutions with the eternal glory of the reign of God!
But, let’s be honest. This is something we still do at times. To this day, in the church’s internal discussions, we confuse essentials with non-essentials and we far too often break communion rather than break bread. Fear of the other and fear of diverse opinions still reign!
Yet, the message of the Resurrection leaves no place for fear. When we stop being in communion with each other, when we walk out of synods or parishes, when we stop talking to each other, because we disagree with theological, pastoral, or liturgical opinions held by fellow Christians, we not only give into our own fear, we also betray the message of the Resurrection. There should always be space for honest dispute and discussion, even for genuine disagreement, while we continue to break bread and share the cup, which in the end is not ours to break or ours to share, but the Lord’s. The insights of the Anglican Reformation reveal that common prayer together, in community with each other, unites us as children of our loving God, all of us, “both great and small”1 – even in our sinfulness and even in our differences.
This does not mean that there aren’t theological boundaries and that we should accept every theological position as valid. The Church must continue to proclaim Christ crucified and risen, embrace God’s self-revelation in Jesus Christ, and celebrate the uniqueness of this revelation. In the words of our Book of Alternative Services: We will be “loyal to the doctrine, discipline, and worship of Christ as this Church has received them”2 – not just for our sake, but also for the sake of humanity and for the healing of the nations.
But in Baptism, we also vow to work for justice and peace among all people and to respect the dignity of every human being.3 This has profound implications for our external interactions with members of other faiths or no faith at all. Our baptismal vows compel us to be intentional about celebrating the mutual bond of our humanity, which unites us with all members of the human race. Each and every one of us is created in the beautiful and awe-inspiring image of God – even the English.
Respecting the dignity of every human being must therefore include being surprised by and looking for the presence of God’s Spirit everywhere, including in the most unlikely of places, including in people outside our own tradition. God is there and wills to be found. God’s delight in each and every one of us, whoever we are, spurns us on to work for peace and justice together with others, whoever they are.
The beauty of the dinner with my friend was that in the end we both left not in the least doubting each other’s integrity and faithfulness, but having learned more about one another as we shared our opinions, as we broke bread together, and as we thus affirmed God’s presence among us and God’s love for us. And this was a most beautiful thing in God’s eyes.
[1] 2 Kings 23.2 (which is taken from today’s reading)
[2] BAS, p. 647
[3] BAS, p. 159
[The Reverend Markus Duenzkofer delivered this sermon on April 26, 2009.]
Posted by stpauls on under Bible Readings, Staff Blog |
John 6.51-58 ~ Gospel reading for April 26, 2009
Jesus said, ‘I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live for ever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.’
The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, ‘How can this man give us his flesh to eat?’ So Jesus said to them, ‘Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live for ever.’
Posted by Webmaster on April 24, 2009 under Webmaster Blog |
Popular Classics: A Concert at St. Paul’s
An evening of opera, art song and piano solo works will be held in the church at St. Paul’s Anglican Church, 1130 Jervis Street, Vancouver, British Columbia on Monday, April 27th, 2009, at 7:00 p.m.
Admission will be by donation, for a good cause. All proceeds benefit St. Paul’s Anglican Church Advocacy Office .
All are welcome; bring a friend.
Posted by Webmaster on April 22, 2009 under Contributors, Webmaster Blog |
Here are some photos of St. Paul’s Anglican Church service for Palm Sunday, April 5, 2009, which started out at Nelson Park with the Liturgy of the Palms.
Members of St. Paul’s Anglican Church's congregation gather at Nelson Park
Congregation members get prepared with palm leaves and tambourines
Members of St. Paul's Anglican Church choir gather at Nelson Park.
Rector, Markus Dünzkofer, leads the service at Nelson Park
Crucifer, John Wilson, leads the way from Nelson Park to St. Paul's Anglican Church.
All photos courtesy Diane Davies and Dianne Warren.
Posted by Webmaster on under Webmaster Blog |
On May 3, 2009, the joint 9:15 a.m. and 11:00 a.m. congregations will come together to celebrate Earth Day and use liturgical and musical material from the “Iona Community” in Scotland at our once-monthly 10:00 a.m. service.
Iona is an island off the island of Mull, west of the Scottish mainland. It is one of the cradles of Scottish Christianity (St. Columba – an Irish monk – founded a monastery there more than 1600 years ago in 563 AD) and today, Iona Abbey is home to the ecumenical Iona Community.
All are welcome at this service. Bring a friend.
Posted by stpauls on under Webmaster Blog |
When we decided to change our monthly service schedule to the present form, we also agreed to celebrate the Holy Eucharist according to the 1959 Book of Common Prayer (BCP) at the 11:00 a.m. service three times a year. One of the times would be a Sunday close to the feast of Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, martyr, and principal author of the first BCP, who died March 21, 1556. We will commemorate Thomas Cranmer next Sunday, April 26, 2009, and celebrate with the Book of Common Prayer at the 11:00 a.m. service. All are welcome.
Posted by Webmaster on under Webmaster Blog |
The flowers in the Garden of Gethsemane and throughout the church since Easter Sunday are given to the glory of God and in loving memory of the following people:
Hans & Margarete von Allwörden
Aunt Audrey
Eva & William Calvert
Violet & Stanley Charnell
Lily & George Croft
E. & A. de Glanville
Stan Dickson
Deceased members of the Dugdale & Barnes families
Georg, Maria, & Stefan Dünzkofer
Emil Erlach
Ralph Facey-Crowther
Gail
Robert & Rita Gopaul
Ken Grant
Robert High
Eddie James
Ed & Genevieve Kingdom
Bob Kemp
Beverly Lanigan
Major E. C. Longley
Deceased members of the Maher & Taylor families
Henry & Theresa McDonald
Margaret Mondor
Margarete Pugh
Carol Richards
Amy Lilian & Henry John Simmons
Paul & Helen Stewart
Jack & Irene Taylor
Bob Tharalson
John Wood
Katherine Wood
Maureen Woodman
Helen Woodruff
Bob, Joyce & Dennis Wreford
Rose Wright
Posted by Priest on April 19, 2009 under Sermons |
There has been a lot going on in the world over the last few weeks, so I would not be surprised if you missed this story: Last Sunday, as we gathered to celebrate and remember the resurrection from the death of our Lord Jesus Christ, assassins in Afghanistan killed Sitara Achakzai. As we sang our “Alleluias,” a senseless, brutal act of murder was committed in a country torn apart by war, occupation, and oppression. In the midst of proclaiming that God has conquered death, a godless act of terror brought death to a woman, and sadness and grief to a family in a land far away.
Ms. Achakzai was a famous female politician in Kandahar Province. Last Monday’s Globe and Mail honoured her with a front page article and called her a “tireless advocate for women’s rights in Afghanistan.”1 That in itself is remarkable and Achakzai’s assassination marked a sad day, not just for women, but for all of humanity, as we lost a voice for the voiceless, someone speaking up for those who are silenced.
What struck me in the Globe and Mail’s article, though, were the opening two paragraphs, and I quote:
“In the hour before her killers pulled up besides the ricksahw and shot her at close range, Sitara Achakzai turned to a female politician riding beside her with a strange look.
“‘I am not afraid of death,’ said Ms. Achakzai…. [And she continued:] ‘I can go and get killed and it’s no big deal.’”2
“I am not afraid of death,” she said. “I am not afraid.”
I believe this Muslim woman might be able to teach us Christians a thing or two about the Resurrection.
Back up 2000 years.
The apostles just experienced the greatest event in the history of creation. But it had come so unexpectedly and surprisingly that they had had no reference point. Jesus’ resurrection to new life had taken them off guard and put them on the defensive. The old paradigms did not work any longer. A new dawn had broken and the disciples were running around like headless chickens: disoriented, disturbed, dislocated. The events of the first Easter morning had thrown things upside down and they just did not know what would come next. They didn’t even know what exactly had happened.
Had they encountered a ghost? Had the women been hysterical, an explanation easily thrown around in this misogynistic age? Had Peter hallucinated? After all, he had a tendency to be rather dramatic. But, what about the empty tomb? Would they be accused of meddling with the evidence? Were the authorities now after them? Was it their turn to be arrested, tried, and executed? And what did it all mean? I bet you Thomas wasn’t the only one doubting, questioning, despairing.
They had come together and they had locked the doors for fear of the authorities, for this is what the word “Jew” means in today’s Gospel. It isn’t about the Jewish people. It is about those in power, the mighty of state and temple, the powerful who could accuse, pronounce judgment, and who had the power to take human life in order to maintain their power. No wonder the apostles were afraid. There was ample reason to be scared. There was enough out there that threatened, enough to be enwrapped by fear.
Fear is one of the greatest forces in the universe. It is a power that can overcome us and that then can immobilize us. Fear can take us hostage and we become no longer agents of our actions. We react to gain a perceived emotional equilibrium rather than act in an informed, ethical, and moral way. When fear has taken over, we triangulate, we act passive-aggressively, and we become selfish and egocentric. Self-preservation sets in, which often disallows us to persevere in resisting evil, to work for justice and peace, and to respect the dignity of every human being, ourselves included. This is why some have called fear the greatest threat to the message of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It is not Thomas’ doubt that endangered the good news of the resurrection. It is the fear of his brothers and sisters, who had locked the doors and had hidden in a dark corner.
Into the midst of their fear, however, Jesus appeared, breaking through any barrier they had erected around them. Into the deep darkness of their being, Jesus brought the light of his presence. “Peace be with you!” he said. “Peace be with you!”
It is the peace that would pull them out of their night into the morning of a new day. It is the peace that would embrace them deep within so that they in return could embrace the fullness of life. It is the peace that would penetrate every fibre of their being and reveal the beauty, the strength, and the courage that was in them. It is the peace that would make them not just followers, but leaders in proclaiming the message of the gospel, in becoming healers of the nations, and in being harbingers of peace and justice. It is the peace that led them from death into life.
And it is the very peace that for millennia now has opened the eyes of saints and sinners to recognize God’s reign among us. It is the very peace that will allow us to be who God created us to be in all our beauty. And it is the very peace that led Sitara Achakzai and countless other Afghan women over the last few days to overcome fear and face their oppression and their oppressors as they stood up for what is right and for what is good in the eyes of God.
The peace of the Risen Christ, which broke through walls and locked doors, which overcame barriers, blockades, and obstacles, freed the disciples from the darkness of their fear. And the peace of the Risen Christ still liberates us all from the oppression by our anxieties, which weigh so heavily on so many minds, and hearts, and souls, and which do not allow us to live into the promises of God.
Of course, this is easier said than done. Right? How on earth is this supposed to happen? How can I control my fear? Isn’t that way too much to take on?
You might have noticed that I usually edit the call for confession, which we use in the time outside the Easter season. I say:
“God is love, and we are God’s children. There is no room for fear or shame in love.”3
There is no room for fear or shame in love!
Of course, I did not come up with this myself. These are, however, the words used as the invitation to the confession in the 1982 worship formulary of the Scottish Episcopal Church4 and they are based on verses from the Bible. And the invitation goes on: “We can love, because God has loved us first.”5
The poisonous voices of fear and shame try to convince us that we must first earn God’s love, that we must first submit to God’s will, and that we must first humble ourselves before the living God in order to be loveable. Not so. God reveals himself in God’s self-revelation in the Bible. No; we can love because God loved us first. There was nothing the disciples had to accomplish in order to deserve the manifestation of the Risen One among them. No! Jesus just came, because he loved them, because, indeed, he loved them first.
We are God’s beloved. Period! End of story! And there is no room for fear in love.
Yes, this takes practice to internalize. It indeed takes daily, not just weekly, or monthly practice. Yet, we can and must practice God’s love for us with each other, as a community ruled not by fear, but as a community committed to love for one another and committed to love for ourselves.
The Christian life is a continuous reminding, a continuous en-fleshing into our own lives that God loves us, that God loves our neighbours, that God loves the person sitting next to you, and that God loves you and me! As God’s beloved, we will overcome fear. And once fear has been conquered in our lives, we are free to become agents of the Gospel and advocates of peace and justice, just like Sitara Achakzai, whose love for her fellow woman and for justice was stronger, was much stronger indeed than her fear of death.
There really is no room for fear in love. There really is no anxiety-filled room that can lock out the peace of Christ.
[1] The Globe and Mail, British Columbia Edition, April 13, 2009, p. 1
[2] ibid.
[3] cf 1 John 3 & 1 John 4.18
[4] Scottish Liturgy 1982 with Alternative Eucharistic Prayers
[5] 1 John 4.19
[The Reverend Markus Duenzkofer delivered this sermon on April 19, 2009.]
Posted by Webmaster on under Bible Readings, Webmaster Blog |
John 20:19-31 ~ Gospel reading for April 19, 2009
When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’ When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.’
But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, ‘We have seen the Lord.’ But he said to them, ‘Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.’
A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.’ Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’ Jesus said to him, ‘Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.’
Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.
Posted by Priest on April 12, 2009 under Sermons |
A few weeks back, in the midst of Lent, I attended a meeting with Anglican clergy colleagues from around Vancouver. We are a group of people who have known each other for years and do share with each other what’s going on in our parishes and in our ministries. That particular morning, it seemed as if we had one bad news after another one. People were complaining. There was definitely an irritable and crabby mood in the room. Clergy can get so bitter.… After one too many negative reports, one of my colleagues sighed and exclaimed: “Boy, the good news of Easter really can’t come fast enough this year, eh?” – and we all chuckled.
The good news of Easter: The news that death has lost its power, that sin is conquered, that God’s light has pierced all darkness, that evil is overcome, that the abundant, overflowing, and eternal life and love of God cannot be kept in a tomb for ever. The news that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead. Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!
It really sounds like good, amazing, exciting news. But is it really? Is the Easter news good news?
Consider the account of the resurrection in the Gospel according to John, another one of the four Evangelists. John reports how Mary Magdalene reacted, when she first met the risen Christ. She did not recognize him, mistook him for the gardener, and asked him to bring back the body of the man she had loved. She was disturbed, confused, and disoriented.
And then there is today’s reading from the Gospel according to Mark, which in its original form ends as we just heard it: The disciples ran away afraid. “Afraid,” it says. They obviously didn’t get the memo that this was to be good news: exciting, amazing, and indeed good news. And the church has struggled with this ending so much so, that early on the original text was edited. A few verses were added later, which made the ending more in line with the joyous reality of the resurrection.
But not so in the beginning. Not so for the disciples at first. When they saw what had happened they couldn’t grasp it, couldn’t understand the profound meaning, couldn’t embrace this new way of being, and couldn’t accept this as good news. They were stuck in their experiences on Good Friday. And who could blame them?
As they watched their master, the one that had called them out of an ordinary life into a life penetrated by an extraordinary revelation, the one they had journeyed with for three years, as they watched as their dear friend Jesus died the death of a criminal, something had shattered. It was as if a glass had fallen onto the ground and had broken into many pieces. Three days later, they were still trying to put the shattered pieces back together. They were attempting to glue the broken shards to one another. They were trying to make sense of it all by going back to what they knew, by trying to restore the old, by going into default mode.
It wasn’t that they didn’t want Jesus to be alive. They very much wanted him to be. In fact, that probably was their greatest wish. But they wanted things to be just like before that fateful last supper in the upper room.
Yet, the resurrection is no going back to good ole’ times. The resurrection is not about the simple resuscitation of an old dead body. When the tomb could no longer hold the body of the Saviour, a new era began, a new dawn broke, a new way of being was revealed. Life was not so much restored, but a new way of living was revealed, something that had not been heard, seen, or experienced before. The resurrection, wasn’t so much a re-surrection as it was a “surrection” to new life. Unfortunately, the English language is not helpful here. In my native German, we do not speak of re-surrection. The word we use literally translates as “rising up.” Yes, Jesus broke the bonds of evil and death on the first Easter morning, and it was the same Jesus who had been born of our sister Mary, who had been baptized by John in the River Jordan, who had ministered throughout the Galilean countryside, who had broken bread and shared the cup with his friends and disciples, and who had died on the hard wood of the cross. But on Easter, something new was revealed. The resurrection didn’t go back in time, but pushed a new creation into existence.
This is why the disciples could not recognize the risen One. This is why they ran away afraid. Broken pieces of glass cannot be put together again. If you try to glue the glass that I smashed at the beginning of the service together, it either will not hold the water or will break again in due time. Once things fall apart, they can only be replaced. We can never go back. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men can’t put it all together again. This was as true for the disciples as it is true for us.
Over the last few months, the global economy has fallen apart, as it experienced its own Good Friday. Yet, for many, it either is not as bad as it looks or they are desperately trying to put things together again. But is that really what we should do? Do we think that the way we have run the economy is the way to do business?
I am not suggesting we deserved what we got. Nobody deserves to be laid off or to lose their home for purely economic reasons. But now that things are broken, we must be honest. Why should CEOs earn over 440 times more than a worker in their company? I am all for fair payment and some jobs do indeed deserve to be paid more, even considerably more. But we have become greedy, and global conglomerates and some individuals have forgotten how to be responsible market players. Equally, an economy run on the backs of the poor really has no justification for its existence. Let us not resuscitate this system! Let us not resurrect the old ways! But let us together search for a new economy. Let us resurrect instead, let us “rise up” the market place in a new way, a market place, which honours all players and which respects the dignity of every human being.
Similarly, over the last few decades the church has been dying as we have seen a sharp drop in attendance and activity. The church as an institution has been pushed to the margins of society. For many, we have become irrelevant.
But this is no time to look back to the times when things seemed good. Do we really want to return to the days when, yes, churches were full and pews filled, but when also people of colour and our indigenous sisters and brothers were relegated to the balcony; when women were serving the food, but could not bless it; when gay, lesbian, and transgender folk were completely silenced; when membership in certain churches was limited to certain classes and casts of society; when fun was a no-no and laughter was verboten; when how you behaved, what you said, and how you dressed was more important that what you believed and how your faith penetrated the very fibre of your being and your interactions with others? Do we want to resurrect the times when mission and outreach, advocacy and evangelism were not central to the church’s ministry and teaching; when church was an expression of culture missing the radical and life-changing message of the Gospel? Do we want to resuscitate the era when the reason for a high church-attendance had to do more with fear and peer-pressure rather than with the joy in the Good News of God in Christ, the excitement of being part of a nurturing and compassionate community, or the awe of being in the healing presence of God?
This really is no time to go back. But this is the time for a resurrection in the life of the church, a resurrection in line with the first Easter morning. We have come to our Good Friday. But as Christians we are people of the Resurrection. We now need to be raised to a new way of being and new way of life for our sake and for the sake of the world. And, yes, at first there will be many encounters with the Risen One, when we just will not recognize him. And we, too, will run away afraid like the apostles. But there is no room for shame or guilt or fear in love. The abundant and overflowing love of the Risen One will conquer our fear. The new way of being the church is the Lord’s doing and it will be marvellous in our eyes.
Finally, the revelation of the resurrection as a new beginning also has implications for the way we live our own lives – as it did for the lives of the apostles. Eventually, the newness of the Resurrection sank in and the apostles were able to embrace the new life offered to them by the Risen Christ. For many, this ended in a violent death, but it brought them also life and love in a measure never before experienced, never even before imagined. The Resurrection gifted the apostles with life and love in abundance, with life and love eternal. In their day, they were able to embrace a genuine, authentic life. With the help of the Risen One, they were able to live into the beauty that God intended for them, each and every one of them.
Those of us who have ever been involved in a Twelve-Step program or in therapy know that when we realize which parts in our lives are broken, we do not necessarily move beyond these broken behaviours. We still try to glue the pieces of smashed glass together. Fear keeps us. The Easter news is not good news at first. The darkness we know, far too often, seems better than the salvation we do not know yet.
This is when the hard work begins.
The first Easter offers us to leave the broken pieces of glass behind, to move beyond the darkness we know, and to embrace life in a new way. The first Easter puts forward a new beginning not just for the apostles, but for all of us, who want to run in fear. Together, all of us, whoever we are and wherever we find ourselves on the journey, we, as individuals and as a community, have a chance to claim the life that conquers fear and that brings about a new beginning, a new way of being, and an abundance of life – for us and for the whole world.
[The Reverend Markus Duenzkofer delivered this sermon on Easter Sunday, April 12, 2009.]
