Many people have asked me, what is it that I, as a
Unitarian believe, and, because we do not hold with a belief in the Holy
Trinity, what do we do about Christmas, and, more fundamentally, Easter.
Well, traditionally, Unitarians have never had a problem with Easter; it is
only in the past 50 or so years that it has become the vogue to dismiss Easter
as, well, “too Christian” and therefore somehow not inclusive enough. Perhaps,
Easter is, well, a bit uncomfortable for us as well. It’ easy to adopt the view
held by James Martineau that reason is the seat of all authority. Using his
logic, therefore, Easter as being miraculous and not conforming to the known
laws of nature and science can be dismissed as being superstitious and
un-reasonable. When you are dead, you stay dead, that much we can observe and
know. But perhaps, perhaps, there is more to Life, the Universe and Everything
than what is empirically observable and deemed to be rational. I believe that
Life, the Universe and Everything is far more complicated than we give it
credit; we as humans fear change and crave control and understanding. By
subjecting Life the Universe and Everything to laws and observation in some way
we can control and understand it, and that makes us feel safe, comfortable. The
problem then is, what do we do when Life, the Universe and Everything doesn’t
correspond to our laws and comfort zones?
Easter, my friends, is one of those ambiguous, uncomfortable areas. No one
said following Jesus was easy. Or comfortable. Perhaps we need to get out of
our comfort zones, and be challenged by the awesome majesty of God and the
timeless wisdom of Jesus.
Easter is obviously a big deal, and we can make it comfortable, safe, tamed.
We have our services, sing our Easter songs, share food together and mountains
of chocolate. We don’t deal with or avoid the challenge of Easter.
It is a filled with confusion and even an uncomfortableness. But
whatever our theology or our comfort level with the Christian tradition may be,
I think that Unitarians can still celebrate Easter with integrity.
Easter, while it is the central holiday of Christianity, is not merely
Christian. There are a lot non-Christian elements to our Easter
celebrations. Easter happens right around Passover, the Jewish
holiday celebrating the release from bondage in Egypt and a ceremonial
re-enactment of the Exodus story. Many scholars believe that the
Last Supper that Jesus held with his disciples was in fact a Seder; a ritual
Passover meal. This makes sense since Jesus was a Jew. Many
of the early Christian probably continued to celebrate Passover in the few
years following Jesus’ death. Obviously, as Christianity and Judaism
grew apart, so too did the two holidays of Easter and Passover. A
friend of mine, who is a Methodist minister, once joked to me that the reason
we traditionally eat ham at Easter was sort of the Christian way of sealing the
deal that this is not Passover.
Passover celebrates the new life of the Promised
Land. Regeneration and transformation are the common
theme.
More, much more than this, is the
Easter faith, that belief in the power of love greater than death.
Easter its self embodies ambiguity. Easter is about a man who is
killed, put to death by capital punishment, and then comes back to life two
days later. Orthodox Christians would say that this event should
shake our life to such an extent that they call it the mystery of
faith. Perhaps you have heard that phrase in other churches or from
televangelists. In some ways I agree with them. If what
they mean is that God or the Holy is mysterious and majestic, unknown and
unknowable, then I can go along with that. I have a bit of the
mystic in me, or at least I try to make room for the mystical to whatever
degree I can. Martineau and others said that reason must have a place in
religion if it is to be relevant at all to human beings that by their very
nature must reason and understand. Yet I would argue with these
great men of our history. From my vantage point of the other side of
the century and a half that separates us, I think that Unitarians can take
reason too far. I am not saying get rid of reason; it is fundamental
to the Unitarian gospel. But we need to add to it and temper it with
some of our much-loved ambiguity. Reason alone creates a religion
from the neck up, we become Gods frozen people, not allowed to express the full
nature of our hearts and souls, which yearn, laugh, and feel sorrow and joy. I
think this is why Martineau recanted his belief in the supremacy of Reason
above All. He found in his life that God, Life the Universe and Everything,
could not be so easily described and contained by reason, that God transcended
all these things. That the final arbiter was not reason, but the human
conscience and experience. We need ambiguity to live as authentic human beings
with integrity. We need to become a thinking and joyous people of God,
worshipping in beauty and in truth with head and heart.
Thus there is an ambiguity between the mystical and the rational, between
the man who can be resurrected from the dead and the scientific knowledge that
no one can come to life from being dead three days outside of the pages of a
sci-fi novel. The ambiguity of Unitarian Universalism is that there
is holiness in the world, and we may never fully comprehend it. And
yet there is a drive to understand the sacred so that we can use it and make it
applicable to our lives. This is the pragmatic nature of Unitarian
spirituality.
We struggle to live our life in the face of this ambiguity. Ultimately, this
is the struggle to live a life of faith. Faith is not blindly
swearing allegiance to someone or something. It is about putting trust, hope in
something. We have religious or mystical feelings, we experience the
presence of the mysterious and the sacred, but we are also trying to understand
it, to make sense of it, to apply it to our live and to our
relationships. But it is messy. The spiritual life is
messy;
there is no systematic way to live, at least none that has been written
for everyone everywhere. The Life of Faith is one lived in midst of
ambiguity. It is a life that acknowledges that there is more to life
than just this and is also trying to figure out what that life may
be. What is my life beyond just this? How can I have a
little transformation in my life and with the people I love? How can
I get a little piece of the Resurrection, the newness of Spring, the freedom
from Egypt, in my life? In short, how can I get the miraculous to
break into my everyday mundane world? These, my friends are the
questions that have many provisional answers, but no definitive
answers. These are the questions of the religious life on the
spiritual journey.
There is a scene, actually a recurring theme, in the movie “American
Beauty”. In this particular scene we see that the boy across the
street has dozens of videotape lining his wall. One of the tapes is
of a plastic grocery bag flitting and flying about in an ally. What
is the point of this movie? He explains that he sees so much beauty
in the world that he cannot contain himself and so he feels the need to film
it. For him this simple plastic bag was a revelation. It
was as I have said earlier, and encounter with something holy that is greater
than ourselves and yet is closer to us than anything could possibly
be. The theologian Paul Tillich says that at any moment the power of
God as the New Being could enter our lives and become a sacred
moment. This moment he calls ‘kairos’. There is a
Zen saying that makes a similar point. A student asks his master at
the monastery, ‘What must I do to attain enlightenment?’ The
master replies, ‘Chop wood, and carry water’. Every day
activities can be the doorway to the miraculous. It is not
easy. The irony is that even though we cannot force enlightenment,
we can be open to it. The discipline of a spiritual practice is
designed to open our hearts as wide as possible so that we can become all the
more sensitive and live as many moments as possible in the presence of the
sacred. For every minute of every day to be kairos.
The word resurrection, however, is tricky; the word used in New Testament
Greek means “to be awoken” or “re-awakened”. In Aramaic is means “to be
resuscitated”. Whilst this has led many to imaging a conspiracy theory, that
Jesus wasn’t actually dead when he was taken down from the cross and was, in
some way, revived, rather like a 1st century A&E ward. These
theories, I think, try to explain way, get rid of the challenge and ambiguity
at the heart of Easter. Even if we don’t like the idea of a literal coming back
to life, then the idea of being resurrected into a new life, a life of love, a
re-awakening, being awoken afresh in your very soul each day to the love and
experience of God.
Thus we are able to solve the ambiguity of experiencing the sacred and the
desire to understand and reason the sacred. We solve it by being
open so that the holy may break through into our everyday experiences, that
through such experiences and renewal transformation is possible and that we need
to remind ourselves of this every year with a ritual.
We need to live every day as though we too are resurrected, as though each
day we are re-born and look at the world afresh each day. Live a life of
renewal and selfless love. Putting to death selfishness, pettiness, the ego,
all that disconnects us from each other and from God (there is an old fashioned
word for that, sin!) and re-awakening to the radical, inclusive, Christ
consciousness.
This is the experience that the disciples had on that first Easter Sunday. They
had an experience so profound, so life changing that affected the rest of their
lives; an experience of a man who caused them to rethink their actions, whose
teachings reached out across the social barriers and religious norms of their
day, reaching out with arms of love to touch the untouchable. On that first
Easter day, on the Road to Emmaus, on the banks of the Sea of Galilee, those
men and women had a life changing experience of God that is available to us
all. They encountered something beyond themselves, unique, personal and holy,
relevant to their lives leading to a transformation in how they saw themselves
and each other. They encountered the life changing, all embracing, beauty of
the love of God. A love made real in their own lives, encountered through the
ordinary and the extra-ordinary. An experience open to us, even here today in
this Chapel.
They were resurrected, made new, “awoken” in the love of God.
My friends we have no reason to fear
ambiguity. It is not nice and neat, but then again few things in
life are. I never trust simple answers to complex
issues. We do not live in the cookie cutter world we live in a world
of contradictions and confusions. Unitarian Universalism celebrates
these paradoxes when we celebrate Easter. It is a holiday that
itself is a conglomeration of many parts and reflects for us the many
ambiguities of life. We are mystics who reason. We fear the
holy, and yet we are fascinated by it. We cannot live without the
encounter of something beyond ourselves and yet we have no idea how to make
such an experience relevant to our lives. All we can do is to be
humble, to be Christlike. To open our hearts to the many
opportunities for love and compassion that surround us, and to try and seek for
a little peace and serenity I the process. May we heed the message
of Easter, and all of its sources, to live a life transformed by faith and
resurrected in a new way of living and being. Amen.
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