On the third day he rose again in
accordance with he scriptures.
The Nicene Creed
3 For I handed on to you as of first importance what
I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the
scriptures, 4and that
he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the
scriptures, 5and that
he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. 6Then he
appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters* at
one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have died.* 7Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. 8Last of all, as to someone untimely born, he appeared also to
me.
1
Corinthians 15:3-8 (NRSV)
“Christ is Risen!” Those familiar words are among the
oldest in the Christian Faith.
They date back to the first Easter, as does the response, “He is risen
indeed!”
A few
years ago, I was in a group discussion of Easter, when someone suggested it
might be more contemporary to change “He is risen indeed!” to “He sure is!”
I didn't
like the idea, but it was only later that I realized why. A deed is something one does. It is a happening, or it is
nothing. We Christians proclaim that
at Easter a deed was done - something happened. Easter is not merely the assertion that I feel good when I
think about Jesus; that he haunts my memory, stimulates my imagination, or
challenges my understanding. He is
present in those parts of my inner self, of course, but the Easter proclamation
is that he has, in fact and in deed, risen from the grave.
This, as
Paul puts it so clearly, is the centerpiece of our faith. If Christ is risen in deed, then our
faith is based upon a certain hope.
If he is not risen in deed, if somewhere in Palestine his bones have
long since crumbled to dust, then we are most to be pitied of all humankind;
for our hope would be based upon an illusion, a nondeed.
First,
let’s look at the manner of Jesus' death.
He died publicly, slowly, agonizingly, intentionally. He spoke of it on several occasions,
and in the last weeks of his public ministry moved toward death as toward a
rendezvous. He could have changed
the course of events right up through his trial. He believed, and clearly stated, that his approaching death
was the remedy for human sin.
The death
on the cross was one Jesus freely accepted, and therefore cannot be classed
with the kind of tragic happenings that sometimes simply overtake a good
man. It was voluntarily embraced
in the belief that God mandated it.
It was, therefore, either the most irredeemable tragedy that ever
occurred, or the greatest victory ever won for the human race.
C.S. Lewis
and others have noted that no other view is possible. Jesus could have been a madman or a fool, pursuing to its
conclusion a plan born of insanity or delusion. He might have been a conscious deceiver, whose plan to
convince others of his divinity went badly awry. It is one of these, unless he was precisely who and what he
said he was, pursuing a plan born of divine wisdom. The death of the cross forces us to choose between these
possibilities in a way no other imaginable action ever could. The answer hinges not on the evidence
of Good Friday, but on what happened next.
The next
event came on Sunday morning. Some
women among his followers approached the tomb, their minds filled with the
tragedy of Friday. Mourning the
dashing of their hopes, the blasting of their dreams, they were nonetheless
tender in their regard for the remains of the one who led them to hope, who
called forth the dreams. With
herbs and oils they planned to complete, according to custom, the embalming job
they could only half-finish before Friday's sunset brought the Sabbath. Laden with grief, they entered the
precincts of death to do the work of death. There is no hint of a half-suppressed hope that it would all
turn out a colossal misunderstanding.
They were with him as he died; they saw the spear thrust. They held the cold limp form, felt the
dead weight. Now, in the face of
their acceptance of Christ's death, they receive the words of life, and
confront an empty tomb
And for
the disciples, there was no lingering hope either. They were scared stiff, disillusioned, bitter, sure their
hopes had been placed on the wrong man.
Accepting his death doggedly, they hushed the women into silence, and
continued to nurse their grief, accepting death, not looking for life.
The
friends of Jesus first saw the empty tomb as evidence that someone had removed
his body, probably to despoil it further.
The men dismissed Mary Magdalene's report of her encounter with the
risen Lord as nonsense. No
wild-eyed dreamers, the disciples feared for their lives. Even when he was alive, they were so
hardheaded in their outlook that Jesus had to explain things over and over to
them. They were not convinced
until repeated encounters with the risen Lord made unbelief harder than belief.
The nature
of the eyewitness reports requires a few words. We find the details varied, often in apparent conflict, and more
than a little confused. Some find
this a barrier to belief. One
critic refers to the collection of Easter stories as “a Mess.” But there is another way to see these
variations.
When I was
a graduate student in journalism, one of my professors specialized in teaching
investigative reporting. Joe
delPorto was a cragged old veteran of the Chicago News Bureau, the UPI, and
half a dozen newspapers. He had
one cardinal principle, and a favorite warning. "Beware", he used to say, "of logical
stories, told by several witnesses, who all agree on the details." Such agreement among witnesses, he
pointed out, is a dead giveaway that the story has been made up. Real stories are seen and reported
differently by each witness, and it is in the midst of sifting through their
accounts that you find the truth.
With Professor delPorto's caution in mind, what of the Easter story?
Written at
different times, for different audiences, to make different points, they look
just like the collection of primary data that piles up when a big, complicated
news story is breaking. Rather
like a reporter’s notebook. There
is, in fact, a fairly clear picture of the progression of events. Difficulties come less with the broad
sweep of the narrative than with the detailed record of appearances. Even with these, however, the nature of
the encounters is such that a strict linear progression of events may simply be
inaccurate. We know very little
about the capabilities of a resurrected person. The objection that Jesus could not have been walking with
two disciples to Emmaus, while also appearing to Peter, reflects assumptions
that apply to us, but may not apply to the risen Christ. Taken as a body of reports, the
accounts of Easter comprise just the kind of story that has the ring of truth.
Some
Biblical scholarship seems to proceed from the assumption that the Early Church
invented the Easter story as a hoax.
If that were true, they would have gone at it differently. They would have tried for consistency. As it is, a second grader could have
invented a more consistent story.
If writers of the caliber of Matthew, Mark, Luke, John and Paul were
making it up, they would have done a much better job.
What we
have is a collection of accounts in which no one has even attempted to smooth
over the rough places. Indeed,
there appears to be a decision to let the eyewitness accounts stand, whether or
not they all agree with one another.
Fidelity to what the witnesses said, rather than editorially harmonizing
their stories, is the apparent organizing principle.
In the end,
the Easter story cannot be finally evaluated apart from the change it made in
the followers of Jesus. Even the
most skeptical of scholars is forced to concede that something happened.
Something
changed eleven men, half as many women, and then whole crowds. They were ordinary persons, not
especially fast-learners, surely not very courageous. They became strong, joyful, convinced, committed
believers. As a result of Jesus'
resurrection, they were willing to stand before courts, governors, kings and
emperors. They even embraced death
by torture as an honor, to proclaim as fact the resurrection of Jesus
Christ. The men and women we meet
in the book of the Acts are greatly changed from the slow and indecisive
bumblers of the Gospels.
Significantly, the Apostles are far less concerned to preach about the
teaching of Jesus than to announce his death and resurrection. They point to the resurrection as their
only explanation for the changes in their lives. Their proclamation has a power that persuaded others to
change their ways of living, so that the force set free on Easter literally
overturned the ancient world.
None of
these considerations conclusively proves the resurrection, but all are
consistent with it. None truly
stands by itself, but put together, the combined evidence points strongly to
the truth of the conclusion.
But why
make belief in the resurrection a necessary point of faith? Why is it, as Paul says, a matter of
first importance? What are
the stakes: my stakes, your stakes, the world's stakes in the truth or
falsehood of this claim?
I believe
the stakes are very high indeed.
The Gospel of Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, offers hope that in
this world, where suffering and violence so often seem to be in control, there
is in fact a greater power working toward a solution to the world's
problems. Morton Kelsey used to
tell retreatants of a time when he was a teenager, and received from an
agnostic uncle a copy of the New Testament. Inscribed on the flyleaf were the words: "Important if
True".
If true,
the life and teaching of Jesus are validated. If true, then no matter how fierce the battle with the
powers of evil in this world may be, there is certainty that the final victory
is God's. If true, then no matter
how frustrating life may seem, no matter how meaningless it may appear at
times, life has meaning. If true,
then living the way Jesus taught us to live will finally make more sense than
accommodating ourselves to the world's shortcuts. If true, then one day all our sorrows will be redeemed, the
dwelling of God will be with us, we will be God’s people, Christ himself will
wipe away every tear from our eyes, death shall be no more, neither shall there
be mourning, nor crying nor pain any more, for they shall all pass away.
The stakes
are no less than this: if Christ is risen, there is hope for you, and for me,
and for all of God's children, wherever they may be. If Christ is risen, the same resurrection power that
transformed the lives of Mary Magdalen, Peter, and the others, can transform
our lives not just in the distant future, but here and now, in the life we live
today. I've experienced the change
in my life, and while the Lord still has plenty of work to do on me, he's done
enough, and I've changed enough, that I can utter the ancient proclamation as
my own: Christ is risen! He is
risen indeed!
Howard
MacMullen
© April
2013
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