The Real Super Sunday

March 23, 2008     Easter A

Acts 10:34-43             Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24

Colossians 3:1-4         St. John 20:1-18

Imagine, if you will, it is the final minutes of the Superbowl. It is fourth and 10, in other words, time for the trailing team to get ahead, or lose it all. The quarterback falls back to pass but instead, makes a beeline up the middle. What had been a hole, quickly closes as he is tackled and buried under a mound of defensive players. Just then, the power goes off and the field is plunged into darkness. After what seems like an eternity, the power is restored and the lights come on. The mound of players slowly get up, and at the bottom of the heap, the quarterback is not to be found. He is not there.

If we were reading the Holy Week story as a sporting event, that is how it might have been. Some weeks ago, in fact, we witnessed "Super Sunday" the Sunday of the Superbowl. Millions of dollars were spent, not just on players' salaries, but on advertising broadcasts during the game. I suggest that today in fact is Super Sunday. A fact that has escaped many people's notice despite thousands of years spent in advertising.

We, as human beings, whoever we are and whatever station in life we are in, all stand on common ground when we realize that that we all at sometime in life, fear death. We all live in the presence of death, and have been, in some way or another, hurt by death.

It does not only touch the life of the elderly. In the preface of Bread For the World, we are reminded that before we complete reading this brief preface four people in the world will have died of starvation, most of them children. So no matter who you are, whether you are in the sunset years and expect to live fewer years than you have lived to date, or whether you are just beginning life's journey, death is real. All of the wars in the world have not increased the death toll by one. It robs people of valuable years of their life but it in no way increases the death toll, for all of us, one day, shall have to go through the experience of death.

I have always wondered about the cynics and non-believers. What do they do at Easter? Have you ever wondered about that? On that day when the Christian church joyfully celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ, what do they do? Humanism is all right for the classroom, but it leaves you nothing but an icy graveside. It is precisely at that point that Christianity responds: "We shall see our loved ones again and all be reunited."

Some demand that they need proof and documentation. I wonder what kind proof that they desire. There is more documented evidence that Jesus Christ rose from the dead than there is that Julius Caesar ever lived. There is more evidence of the resurrection than there is that Alexander the Great died at age 33. I have always found it interesting that some will accept thousands of facts for which there are only shreds of evidence, but in the face of overwhelming evidence of the resurrection they cast a skeptical doubt, because it is unique. We say that we want the facts. Well the facts are that in the history of the ancient world the resurrection has been attested to as much as most of the events that we routinely accept and read in the history books.

In the early nineties the ABC news show 20/20 had an interesting segment on the shroud of Turin. If you were completely out of touch at that time and have not heard of the shroud of Turin, let me tell you that it is supposed to be the cloth that Jesus was buried in. And on this cloth is an imprint of the person of Jesus. It is now housed in a cathedral in Turin, Italy. Several years ago an international team of scientists, consisting of Christians, Jews, Moslems, and non-believers, set about to prove or disprove the story behind this ancient cloth. The results of their findings were published in an issue of National Geographic magazine.

The interesting thing to me about the 20/20 story was an interview that they had with one of the scientists, an Air Force colonel who was a specialist in laser technology. He openly admitted that he began the project not only as a non-Christian, but as a person who was openly anti-religious. "I relished this opportunity," he said, "to debunk what I considered a childish myth." Geraldo Rivera asked him: "Now that you have spent four years on this project what is your response?" His response not only shocking, but it was shocking that 20/20 allowed it to go on the air. He said: "After four years on this project, I now fall upon my knees and worship a resurrected Christ."

It would be nice if we could hold some physical evidence in our hands to prove it all, but I would mislead you this Easter Day if I left the impression that the resurrection was a matter of fact. For in the end, the resurrection is a matter of faith. In the end you cannot prove it or disprove it. And that is why some brilliant people believe and why some brilliant people do not believe. Because you cannot prove it one way or the other. It is a matter of faith.

As Vice President, George Bush represented the U.S. at the funeral of former Soviet leader Leonid Brezhnev. Bush was deeply moved by a silent protest carried out by Brezhnev's widow. She stood motionless by the coffin until seconds before it was closed. Then, just as the soldiers touched the lid, Brezhnev's wife performed an act of great courage and hope, a gesture that must surely rank as one of the most profound acts of civil disobedience ever committed: She reached down and made the sign of the cross on her husband's chest. There in the citadel of secular, atheistic power, the wife of the man who had run it all hoped that her husband was wrong. She hoped that there was another life, and that that life was best represented by Jesus who died on the cross, and that the same Jesus might yet have mercy on her husband.

Bill Bryson has written a fascinating book called, The Lost Continent: Travels in Small Town America. In the book, he tells of traveling to Hannibal, Missouri to visit the boyhood home of the noted author Mark Twain. He described the house as a "trim, white-washed house with green shutters, set incongruously in the middle of downtown." It costs two dollars to visit Mark Twain's home and to walk around the site. Bill Bryson said he found the home to be a disappointment. He expressed his disillusionment like this:

"It purported to be a faithful reproduction of the original interiors, but there were wires and water sprinklers clumsily evident in every room. I also very much doubt that young Samuel Clemens' bedroom had Armstrong vinyl on the floor or that his sister's bedroom had a plywood partition in it."

He said that the house, which is owned by the city of Hannibal, attracts some 135,000 visitors each year. But Bryson was disappointed that he was not able to actually go inside the house. "You look through the windows," he says. "At each window there is a recorded message telling about each room."

As he proceeded from window to window, he met another tourist who seemed to know a lot about the house. Bryson asked him: "What do you think of it?" The friendly stranger replied: "Oh, I think it's great. I always come here when I'm in Hannibal, two or three times a year. Sometimes I go out of my way to come here."

Bill Bryson was fascinated, "Really?" he replied. "O yes," the man said. "I must have been here twenty or thirty times by now. This is a real shrine you know." As the two of them continued walking and touring together, Bill Bryson said to the man: "You must be a real fan and follower of Mark Twain. Would you say the house is just like Mark Twain described it in his books?" "O, I don't know," said the tourist, "I wouldn't have the foggiest notion. I've never read any of his books!"

Visiting his shrine, but ignoring his books. Sadly, that may be a pretty good description of how many people deal with Jesus Christ. They visit his shrines, but fail to accept Him and follow Him and fail to read his book and apply His teachings to their daily lives.

On this Super Sunday, as we have heard the story of the empty tomb, may we take that truth into our hearts and from their into our lives and our world.