Resurrecting - Remembering the Fullest Expression of You

by Pastor Gina

So, let me tell the story of Gina at Easter.

Gina would wake up on Easter morning, and I've told you all how my dad is a go-big-or-go-home when it comes to Christmas. Well, Easter was no different. We would color our eggs with a classic little white, chalky, waxy crayon, and write different things on them, and dip them all in the mixed match cups that had all the food coloring in them, and hope it came out right. And sometimes we didn't care. It could look messy and ugly, and it looked kind of brownish. Like, what kind of egg is that? And then we tried to be artistic and draw little things on them. And I remember running around the house trying to find the eggs that were hidden.

But the best part was usually in the living room or on the dinner table, because that was like candy explosion. I always had a huge chocolate bunny. We're talking like the gigantic, bite-the-ears-off-and-there's-still-a-lot-of-ears-left-over bunny. Myself and my brother Thomas had those experiences, and they were amazing. We had such great Easter mornings together, and my children got to experience that for a little bit, until I decided to answer the call to ministry. So, I was like, “Okay, guys, I either answer the call of obedience or we get Easter baskets.” I think they were voting for Easter baskets, but it didn't quite go that way.

So, here we are now. I know in some of the older traditions, every Easter was a pretty Easter dress and an Easter hat.

One Easter, my mom actually took this plain hat, and she sewed and used beads to put happy Easter around it and flowers around it, and it was just absolutely beautiful, and that was actually the one and only time I had an Easter hat. But I do recall seeing photos of congregations throughout the year, but especially on Easter, the women would be adorned in their Easter hats. There was always lots of colors, and there were garden scenes, and it's like, “Ah, it's Easter.”

But, you know, sometimes resurrection just doesn't come with all of the glitz, and the colors, and the explosions of what we would consider to be celebration, because sometimes resurrection doesn't fit into a little book that we call the Bible, where it's neatly written out, translated to perfection, maybe. No, not quite.

A lot of times, Easter can give this illusion that resurrection is always happy and exciting, and that moment of resurrection very well is, but in order to truly understand resurrection, we have to go back to where resurrection begins, because for many of us, resurrection begins in the silence, in those fear-gripping moments where it feels like something is coming unraveled, where we're sitting in that dark space between what we knew and what was coming to be.

When we think about the story of Jesus, here comes Jesus, and everyone knew him as the carpenter's son, that guy from Nazareth. Does anything good come out of Nazareth? But he was a teacher. He was a way-shower. He was a healer. He went around, and he gave people hope.

He sat with those that others wouldn't sit with. He fed those who were hungry, clothed those who were naked, set free those who felt in prison, not just in prison, but in the prison of their stories, and their illusions of all that they had, and all that they were was right there in front of them. And he made sure to let them know that, “No, no, no. The kingdom that is yours, that is not here or there, is within you.” He came, and he did miracles. He was, he is the miracle.

But what if we go back to that time, and we ask that question, “What happens when the miracle gets put to death?”

Well, we're all on the other end of the story. It's very easy for us to say, “Spirit doesn't die.” It doesn't matter what religion you're standing in. That's one that carries across the board. Spirit doesn't die. Life is eternal. Maybe the physical body dies, but life is eternal.

But for those who were there in that time, in that day of crucifixion, as the miracle was being put to death, that's where the resurrection began. The resurrection begins when the temple has fallen, when the tomb sits empty, and when your name is spoken, and you can remember who you are.

Before we can truly celebrate what has risen, what is rising within us, we need to recall what has fallen. In John 2: 19-21, it says:

Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days.

That is Jesus speaking to them, and they reply:

It has taken 46 years to build this temple, and you're going to raise it in three days?

Isn't that funny? But the temple he had spoken about was the body. Jesus wasn't just talking about a physical structure. He was talking about a system. He was talking about a container that once held something sacred, and now it couldn’t contain what has been born. When Jesus was telling them to destroy the temple, he was giving them permission. He wasn't trying to take a stance and say, “Yeah, come on, destroy the temple. I dare you.”

He was telling them, destroy that temple. Let the old collapse. Release what is no longer serving you, what is no longer working for you. He says, go ahead and tear down that thing that is now posing a barrier between you and your true self, between you and God.

Why do we build temples? And I'm not talking about in a worship sense. I'm talking about why do we build them? Because we all build them. We all build these things outside of ourselves, these structures, these systems that we're all going to succumb to, and we're going to follow, and we're going to worship.

But then maybe one day, yours falls. And maybe it doesn't all fall in one day. Perhaps it's that slow crack in the foundation. Perhaps it's that slow falling, where everything looks perfect on the outside, but on the inside, not so much. You know, we had a Good Friday service in our congregation, and as we were in that service, I started recalling how many Good Fridays I have had in my own life.

How many Good Fridays had I come to because I built this thing on the outside, where everything seemed perfect, structured, organized, safe, neatly put together with a perfect bow on top, but inside, there was drifting, there was confusion, there was longing, and there was seeking, because I was searching for something deeper, something more? There is a beckoning from the Spirit to return to who you are and not get caught up in who the world tells you that you are and from that beckoning started a conversation between the Spirit and I.

There may be disappointment, because it's now time for changes and transformation. And in that transformation, you're met with a silence, a silence that is so loud that you feel forced to take action.

Jesus wasn't talking about the temple of His body. He was talking about a temple of consciousness, this collective consciousness that we are all in, and He was saying, “The Spirit is awakening, so go ahead. Go ahead. Take me down. You can't stop what is happening here.”

It wasn’t just you can't stop what I'm doing here. It wasn’t just you can't stop what the Spirit is doing here, but it was you can't stop what God is doing here. This temple is not what holds the indwelling presence of our almighty, loving God.

Maybe some of you are there, or maybe you've been there, and maybe coming to Easter celebration is an opportunity to smile, and to see people you love, and to get together and share memories, and also to pretend like everything that's so perfect on the outside matches the inside. But maybe on the inside, the temple is falling. Maybe you are starting to feel that crumble. And it's so easy to think, “Is this coming to the end of my story? Is this the end of my story?”

But this is not the end of your story. This is Easter Sunday, resurrection. This is where resurrection begins.

You know, there was a woman. She was in the garden, and her name was Mary. And Mary stood outside the tomb crying, and she turned around, and she saw Jesus standing there, but she didn't realize it was Him. Why didn't she realize it was Him? You see, she didn't come there looking for a miracle or a resurrection. She didn't come there expecting to find Jesus alive, and whole, and well.

As a matter of fact, she came there to do sort of a final goodbye. She went there to anoint him, and do what you would do when someone that you love, and cared about, and honored had passed away. She came to do the last loving thing that she knew to do while she was in her grief, and in her mourning, and that was to anoint him. That was to pay respects, and to love what she had lost. And this was her way of honoring the loss. But when the temple was empty, she didn't know what to do.

And with all the noise, and the threats around town, she was scared, and she was frightened. She was angry, and she pleaded to who she thought was the gardener. If you have taken him somewhere, will you bring him back? Will you show me where he is, and I will take care of him? There were others that came, that saw the emptiness, that had to verify the story, but they left.

She stayed. And this is one of those times people don't understand, so they ask, “Why did you stay? You didn't see anything different than we saw.” But this is where love takes over, and all our logical responses, all the things that maybe we think we should do, are put aside. As she sat there crying, wondering, what has happened? What have they done with my Lord? She paid no mind to the gardener, as he asked her, “Why are you crying?”

You see, resurrection doesn't always show up in the way that we see it in churches on Sunday morning. Sometimes resurrection is going to be covered in soil. Sometimes resurrection is going to look like someone who's been standing beside you all along, and it just took that moment to realize, you've always been here. She's sitting there in this moment of loss and confusion, wondering, what do I do now? Everything is lost. Everything is dead. How do I move forward? And then that moment happens.

“Mary.”

And suddenly, something comes alive.

She doesn't just recognize Jesus in that moment of hearing her name, Mary. She recognizes herself. She remembers all that she knew about who she was and what was coming to be. She remembers all that she had seen and the purpose that she has in this very moment. That part that didn't die. That part that was buried.

Don't we all have those parts? Those parts in our life that have brought in something unexpected? Whether it was a death, whether it was an illness, a loss of a job, a loss of a friend, a loss of a relationship, a financial loss, a transition that has us thinking, what do I do from here? Is this going to get any better? That has us sitting in tears, even as someone is standing there to help us. We can't hear them. We can't see them. Everything we knew and planned is now at a loss.

But then there's that moment.

That moment that Mary had when she was called by name. That moment that each of us has had in those moments of grief and those moments of misery and drowning ourselves in our sorrows or even in our anger and frustration. And someone just says your name, Gina.

Have you forgotten who you are? How many times have we been there, and it just takes that instant of the Spirit reminding us, or maybe it was our spouse, or maybe it was our child, or maybe it was our best friend, or maybe it was all of a sudden noise that scared us out of our tears and caused us to laugh and say, “What am I doing? I am alive and I know who I am. I know what it means that Jesus resurrected.”

It's far more than just saying, “Yeah, we found the empty tomb and he's alive and now we're all saved.” Saved for what? It's so much more than that.

When she went to the empty tomb and he wasn't there and he called her by name, she was able to recognize all that she had, all that she is, all of what was to come. That's resurrection. When in the darkness and in the shame and in the fear and in the doubts, not with shouting, not with long drawn-out explanations, but spoken through the words of love, we hear our name.

And so all of you who are reading this, do you hear your name? As you go through those trials in life, as you go through those transitions and those places of loss, those places of grief, those places that get so loud and so noisy that we forget who we are, in this moment, can you pause? Can you be still? Can you truly experience the resurrection and hear your name?

Your name's not being called because Jesus needs to fix you. You know, you're broken and you're a sinner and come to Jesus and let's get you corrected. No.

Your name is being spoken, not so you have to start over. “Gosh, you've done it all wrong. Now it's time for you to get your life right and on track. It's Easter Sunday. Let's do it. If we're going to do it, let's do it today.”

No. Your name is called because you're being called back to who you are, not who you were, not who you're going to be someday, who you are. Your name is being called to remind you of the truth which you know, of that I Am that is living in you, that never died, no matter what illusion the cross tried to give us, the cross was a demonstration to tell us that love does not die, that there is no death, and that if you truly know who Jesus is, it's so much more than a savior on a cross. He is the way shower, the master teacher, the truth, right before you, here to remind you that you too have eternal life, that you too can always turn inward and seek deeper and seek further and come into the resurrection of you.

As soon as Mary heard her name and she had that recognition, she clung to him and said, “Raboni,” and he said, “Don't cling to me. Go and tell the others.”

He wasn't rejecting her. He wasn't dismissing her. He wasn't trying to silence her, to say, “Get off me. Just go on your way.” He was just telling her, “You don't have to cling to me. You don't have to cling to the cross. You don't have to cling to what took place there. You don't have to look back. You can go forward. There's no need to cling to forms and to ideals and to structures and paradigms that are no longer present. Now you can see resurrection and you can become it and you can go forward.”

Jesus doesn't stay in that garden. He doesn't experience resurrection and then just sit there and say, “Well, I've done what I have to do. I'll be here now.”

No, he goes on and he continues his ministry and so did Mary because the message that was spoken in resurrection is the message of love. It's the message of new life. It's the message of creation happening every single moment, manifested moment by moment in that present second and love, in order to be spread, has to move and has to go out.

We have a tendency to visit resurrection once a year on Easter Sunday, but resurrection is something that we should be carrying with us in every second and every breath of every day. We're not just rising from a fall. We are rising each and every day to what is within us and what is new about us.

If you remember how we started this journey, we started with the pause and we found the sacred stillness. We received, we tuned into the truth of who we are. We started questioning everything, scrubbing away at the mirror and trying to see that light coming through and then we released and now my friends, my brothers and sisters, if I can be so bold, my fellow Jesuses and Marys who are reading this, now that we have paused and we have received and we questioned and released, now we rise.

We rise. And we rise in each and every moment. We don't just celebrate that he rose, we celebrate that we are rising too. He is risen, so are you and it's our job to go out there and invite everyone to understand. He is risen and so are we, so let's live like it.

Celebrate the resurrection each and every moment. Be the Christ that you're called to be and when the noise gets loud and when the tomb is empty, just be still and you're going to hear it. You're going to hear your name and when that name is spoken, remember who you are and help the world remember who they are, not just today but every day.

Christ is risen and so are we.

Please pray with me. Our most gracious and loving God, we thank you so much for the opportunity to recognize that it's not just about following you.

It's not just about bowing our heads and sitting in the silence but it's about raising our heads high and knowing who we are, created in your most extravagant, glorious, mighty image. God, we are so thankful for this day that we've set aside to celebrate you and us and the fullness of resurrection but we call on you Spirit to remind us of that each and every day and every moment. May we be the fullest expression of who we are in Christ Jesus.

May we be the fullest expression of love. May we be the fullest expression of light. May we be the fullest expression of divinity because that is who we are and we would not be that without you, our Lord Christ Jesus.

Amen.