Sermon for the 6th of November, 2022, 3 before Advent

As always, Jesus doesn’t exactly answer the question that he is asked, or, if he

does, it is an answer that surprises and sometimes confuses his hearers.

This time the Sadducees, a sect of the Jews of Jesus’s day who wanted nothing

to do with any theory of resurrection, ask the question about the woman of

seven husbands and her status in heaven. They have carefully constructed this

question to see if he will answer “yes” for the Pharisees’ view of resurrection or

“yes” for the Sadducees’ view of no resurrection. But Jesus gives them a

different kind of answer. He tells them that if they are abiding by the Mosaic

law in regard to the marriage of a brother’s wife they should also abide by the

teaching of Moses as to resurrection, as in the Burning Bush episode. He quotes

Moses there as saying that God is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

Implied is that to God, these great ancestors are all alive: God is the God of

Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

So Jesus, therefore, concludes by saying, God is not a God of the dead, but of

the living, for to him they are all alive.

So if those who share in the resurrection after death become like angels, being

children of God, as Jesus said, the question for these questioners then becomes

not which husband out of seven do you claim once you are all in heaven

together, but what bearing does this question have on how you live now?

What does it mean to live a Resurrection life?

Jesus himself said that after we die, we are children of the resurrection. But if,

because of His resurrection, we are believers in resurrection, we are children of

the resurrection now. In this life. Living in faith, hope, and love, which is all we

can really do until that moment comes when we trust that God will gather us all

in, whatever shape our lives have come to have.

What does it mean to live a Resurrection life?

I have three thoughts in answer to this question, from three preachers.

Sam Wells had this moving paragraph in his book, Be Not Afraid: Facing Fear

with Faith:

He writes his own obituary once a year. It is an exercise that forces him to think

about how he would like for others to remember him. He says,

Yes, an obituary is full of events, achievements, births, marriages, and deaths.

But if you’re anything like me, you skip ahead past the ponderous narrative to

the final paragraph, which says something like, “above all, she will be

remembered for her...”—-and then it describes what she was really like. And

that’s not about skill, intelligence, longevity, or wealth; it’s about character. And

when I read an obituary that says, “Above all, she will be remembered for being

a channel of well-being, peace, and joy” or “God was so transparently at work

in his life that you felt, if you stayed close to him, you’d keep close to God,” I

think, “I’ll have one of those, please. I’d like an obituary like that, thank you

very much.”

Would your last paragraph say that about you? Would it say, “She was a

channel of well-being, peace, and joy”? Would it say, “God was so

transparently at work in his life that you felt, if you stayed close to him, you’d

keep close to God”? If not, why not? And with the time God has left for you,

what are you going to do about it? In the end, all the earned or honorary

degrees you receive, the money you make or give away, the property you own or

bequeath, and even the marriages you enter and the children you have aren’t

going to matter—-at least not in the way that this matters. Others will know if

you’ve received a blessing if they can look back and say that you’ve been a

channel of well-being, peace, and joy to them—-that in you, they have found a

blessing; that, that close to you, they have felt themselves close to God. That’s a

call to every person.......(p. 20)

What does it mean to live a Resurrection life?

Another favorite preacher, Frederich Buechner, said this in his autobiography,

The Sacred Journey, a similar exercise in looking back and reflecting on what

matters. He includes an additional dimension:

There was the day I signed the contract for that first novel that I had started in

college....It was a major event for me, needless to say—-the fulfilment of my

wildest dreams of literary glory. But of the actual signing itself in the offices of

Alfred Knopf—-who was there and what was said and how I felt—I remember

nothing. What I remember instead is leaving the publisher’s office afterwards

and running into somebody in the building whom I had known slightly at

college. He was working as a messenger boy, he told me. I was, as I thought, on

the brink of fame and fortune. But instead of feeling any pride or sense of

superior accomplishment by the comparison, I remember a great and

unheralded rush of something like sadness, almost like shame. I had been very

lucky, and he had not been very lucky, and the pleasure that I might have taken

in what had happened to me was all but lost in the realisation that nothing

comparable, as far as I could see, had happened to him. I wanted to say

something or do something to make it up to him, but I had no idea how or what

and ended up saying nothing of any consequence at all, least of all anything

about the contract that I had just signed. We simply said good-bye in the lobby,

he going his way and I mine, and that was that. All I can say now is that

something small but unforgettable happened inside me as the result of that

chance meeting—-some small flickering out of the truth that, in the long run,

there can be no real joy for anybody until there is joy finally for us all—-and I

can take no credit for it. It was nothing I piously thought my way to. It was no

conscious attempt to work out my own salvation. What I felt was something

better and truer than I was, or than I am, and it happened, as perhaps all such

things do, as a gift. (pp. 96-97)

The kingdom of God has still not come—that is clear! There is so much

inequality and injustice—-the damage so great that human beings inflict upon

one another in our very human world—-our light is desperately needed in this

dark time. As Buechner says in his simple eloquence: there can be no joy for

anybody until there is joy finally for us all—-we wait, together, for that time.

As for me, I just returned from chaperoning a group of ten young persons in our

diocese to the ecumenical monastic community of Taizé, in France. I am not a

natural youth leader—never have been—but to sit in the undistinguished barn-

like modern church there in the company of two thousand young persons, in

services of worship led by the monks of the community, was a profoundly

moving experience. Worship there, three times a day, consists of scripture,

silence, and singing. That’s it. It goes very deep. It left its impression.

We can live—we are called to live—-flooded through with the radiance of

Christ and the glory of God, so that what we have accepted as the best that life

has to offer, what we hold up and admire as of shining worth—-we see how all

this pales in comparison, fades away and becomes unreal—-in the light of what

Resurrection means. If we can live this kind of brightness as we wake up to the

possibilities of each day, brave its challenges, showing forth the love and light

of Christ—-if we can embody this kind of radiance, we are living a

Resurrection life, now.

Faith, hope and love—the great trinity of the Christian faith—justice, peace,

and joy—-they are the same—-if we can hold on to these, we will be okay. We

will not be overcome by the catalogue of disasters that our world seems more

than ever to be downward-spiralling-into—we will be empowered by the joy of

the Holy Spirit to show forth the brightness of God in the life we live.

May we take heart in the fact of the Resurrection in which we believe, and the

freedom from fear that gives us.

As I reflect on what it means to live a Resurrection life, I have had one of the

songs we sang at Taizé in my head—it keeps appearing. I sing it to myself,

because it uplifts me, it gives me joy to sing it.

I’d like for us to sing it now, together, as a conclusion, a benediction, a sending-

out. Three times, so that you can get a sense of the rhythm and its simplicity.

The choir will sing it once alone to help us begin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WL1_IhVTJmk

Revd Dana English