Hello,
I have a reputation (a good one, I hope) for doing something a bit over the top for Easter Sunday worship. I figure that doing so is appropriate, after all, on that first Easter Sunday morning God did something quite over the top! He raised Jesus, his Son, from the dead!
Not all of the “creative” things that I have done have been universally welcomed….maybe some of you who have been members of the congregations that I have served remember, fondly, I hope, some of the Easter surprises.
Some years ago, I had, what I thought, was a great idea. It so happened that on Good Friday, on my way to church for the evening worship service, I stopped at a Quizno’s, sort of an upscale Subway. As I approached the counter the gal behind the counter took one look at me and said, “I know what you are going to order.” I was wearing my clerical collar, and since it was Friday, she surmised that I would be ordering the non-meat option.
When I told her that I would like the roast beef sandwich, she looked at me and said, “Aren’t we still in Lent?” I responded to her that we indeed were still in Lent, but as a Lutheran pastor, and not a Catholic priest, I still dined on meat on Fridays. Thus the seed for my Easter surprise.
So, when Easter came and I stepped into the pulpit to proclaim the earth-shaking news of Easter, I began my sermon by telling of my Good Friday Quizno’s encounter. Borrowing from a famous sermon by Tony Campolo, I said, “You know, that sandwich preparer was right. We were still in Lent. But not today. Lent is over! Easter is here!”
And then I went on to say with all the southern Christian muster that this northern Lutheran could muster, “All the honest reflection of Lent…looking into the mirror and seeing the pain that we bring into our lives and into the world…pain that tells us over and over again of our failures and weaknesses…that was Lent. But Lent is gone!”
And then I paused and said, “And here’s you line: when you hear me say, ‘and Lent is gone’, I want everyone to stand up and shout as loud as they can, “Easter is here!”
And so we practiced it once. I said, “But Lent is gone!”, and everyone in the congregation stood up and sort of yelled, “Easter is here!”
Not badly done by a bunch of Swedish descendants, but I said, “You know, I bet that if you were at a High School basketball game and someone from our team just scored the winning point as the clock ran out, you would be a lot louder. And when you consider that victory that Jesus won, when he stepped out of the hands of defeat on Easter Sunday morning….well, I would expect a louder shout than I just heard. As a matter of fact, I would expect trumpets blaring and the band playing! Well, actually I think we can do that!”
That is when I bent over and pulled a grocery bag from behind the pulpit and reached into the bag and pulled out party horns! Enough horns for everyone in the congregation. I got down from the pulpit and started handing them out….much with varied levels of delight in the eyes of the receivers. When everyone had their horns, I got back up in the pulpit, and I said, “So, here’s what we are going to do: when you hear me say, “But Lent is gone!”, jump to your feet and yell, “Easter is here!”. And after you’ve yelled, blow your horn!”
And so, I in a series of litanies, I enumerated the heavy things of the world that we take an honest look at during the season of Lent….our sins, our lack of faith, our penchant to fear….and when I finished each of these, I said, “But Lent is gone!” And as instructed, the congregation….well not everyone….jumped up and yelled back, “Easter is here!”, and they blew their horns. I thought it was wonderful. People laughed, as they should laugh on Easter….laugh at death, laugh at the powerlessness of their sins, laugh at the shame and guilt with which the world shackles them.
Well, as I said, not everyone jumped up, and as it turned out, not everyone laughed. A few kept to their seats, and a visible scowl came across their faces. Well, as I have come to learn, not everyone will be happy with the things that I do to make the Gospel known in this world.
Later that week, I received a letter in the mail from one who did not jump up. “This was the worst Easter service I have ever been to,” wrote the writer. “You owe the congregation an apology.” Actually, I was glad to receive that letter, because it told me that there was a path of communication between the writer and me, a path that I was thankful to walk on with this writer, because the writer signed their name.
I called the writer and issued an invite to come and talk about what had been written, and the writer agreed to do so. When the writer came to the church to talk, I said, “Thank you for coming,” and I mentioned that I didn’t think that we had had a chance to talk with one another previously, and I tried to strike up a conversation of getting to know one another better.
“Let’s get to the letter,” was the first things that came from the writer’s lips, and the writer spoke to me of the distaste that remained from that Easter service. “It was the worst Easter service I have ever been to,” the writer said, “and I think you owe the congregation an apology.”
I said, “I wonder if you had seen what I had seen, you would still feel the same way.” What I saw was a family sitting in the second row right in front of the pulpit…a family with a couple of kids. The older one was early elementary age and for the past several years was battling an illness that required several hospitalizations. The illness was powerful. As it happened the child was home between treatments that Easter morning, and in my sermon when I said, “But Lent is gone!”, that child was the first one to jump up with an ear to ear smile and yell, “Easter is here!”, leading the congregation in bold horn blowing. That is what I saw.
When the letter writer heard what I saw, the writer responded, “Oh. I didn’t see that.”, and the writer withdrew the request for a congregational apology.
I thought I would relate this story to you at this time, because for me, that child’s exuberance brought the power of Easter to me like none other. We are in a time when the darkness of the world seems very powerful…but the power of the virus….the power of the fear that it instills…the power of death that it brings….the power of the virus is the power of the world, the power of that we take an honest reading of during Lent.
But on this Easter Sunday morning, just like we discover every Easter Sunday morning, that power is powerless against the power of God’s love. So this Sunday when you arise, and the Lenten voices of the world begin to swirl in your ears, do this: jump out of bed, and yell, “EASTER IS HERE!”…..and if you have a horn, blow it boldly!
God’s grace and peace, (ggap)
Pastor Jerry Nuernberger
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