
Easter, April 12, 2009 Maya Angelou
St. Paul never mentioned a physical resurrection, and he was the first to write about any of this, just 30 years following the first Easter.
His experience of Jesus was strictly spiritual, an encounter with the Christ of faith, on the Road to Emmaeus, blinded by the light.
No mention of empty caves or angels or any of that.
It wasn’t until some time later that we get to those details about the first Easter morning.
They have called her “America’s most visible black female autobiographer.
Her first book is best-known and was most highly acclaimed.
It’s title is I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.
It was published in 1970, almost 40 years ago.
In that book she told of the first seventeen years of her life, recounting harrowing experiences as a black child in the South.
It was heralded as a new kind of autobiography.
She was one of the first African American women able to publicly discuss her personal life.
And she has been recognized and highly respected as a spokesperson for black women and women in general ever since.
Her books have been used extensively in some classrooms, but they have also been challenged, sometimes banned, in schools and libraries.
Her name, of course, is Maya Angelou.
Still I rise: a poem
There’s a poem of hers called “Still I Rise.”
It could be an Easter poem, although it’s not about Easter itself.
What it’s about is one of the Truths of Easter, a truth of personal transformation, a Truth of personal resurrection.
Up from a past that's rooted in pain, I rise, she wrote.
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear, I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Maya Angelou’s poem is full of sassy optimism.
This is a woman who has stared her demons in the face, and said, “Enough.
“I choose freedom.”
The poem is oozing with the experience of life.
It’s as if she’s saying to her oppressors, “I may be disappointing your low expectations, and your self-limiting beliefs, but too darned bad.
Get over it.
I’m all done with being afraid.”
Lives filled with fears
All of our lives are filled with uncertainty and fear of the unknown.
Each of our lives is a venture into uncharted waters.
It doesn’t matter how many others have gone before us, how many have fallen by the wayside, lost jobs, become addicted to one thing or another, messed up relationships, been seduced by empty promises.
It doesn’t matter how many others have lost loved ones, have lived and died with life-threatening illnesses, or have experienced devastating losses.
When it happens to you, it’s uncharted water, unmapped territory, an untraveled road.
But we can rise above the uncertainty of our lives.
We can stand on the “mountain” of our life experiences, that huge pile of memories of all that we’ve ever said or done.
We can use those life experiences as springboards for new possibilities.
It can be liberating.
I believe that is one of the meanings of Easter, the liberating freedom that it brings us, rising above the uncertainties and fear in order to see the way to greet the new moment, the new hour, a whole new day.
Maya Angelou’s poem, “Still I Rise.”
It’s not about Easter, but it’s an Easter poem.
Many ways to think about Easter
There are many ways to think about the Easter story.
It’s not so much about whether you interpret the events literally or not, whether you think about a physical resurrection, or a spiritual resurrection.
St. Paul never mentioned a physical resurrection, and he was the first to write about any of this, just 30 years following the first Easter.
His experience of Jesus was strictly spiritual, an encounter with the Christ of faith, on the Road to Emmaeus, blinded by the light.
No mention of empty caves or angels or any of that.
It wasn’t until some time later that we get to those details about the first Easter morning.
And even then, the writers of the three earliest gospels disagree, telling three different Easter stories.
For Mark, who was first to write about it, there was an empty tomb.
A young man dressed in white announced that Jesus was risen.
That’s where his narrative ended.
Matthew, who wrote next, provided additional details:
there was an earthquake, and an angel that descended from heaven.
For Luke, it was two men wearing “dazzling apparel,” two men who announced that Jesus had risen.
And for John, written years later, a resurrected Jesus keeps popping up all over the place.
First, in this morning’s reading, appearing to Mary Magdalene who mistakes him for a gardener.
Later appearing to the disciples as they’re having dinner, showing Thomas the marks of the nails in his hands, and on another occasion, cooking breakfast for his friends on a beach.
What’s important is not the details of the gospel stories.
What’s important is how you interpret those stories.
What’s important is how we apply the lessons of Easter to our lives.
One way to think about Easter: leaving behind the “old stuff”
Here’s one way to think of Easter.
The time leading up to Easter, those 40 days of Lent, were a period made for turning inward, for reflection reflection on what’s really important to us.
Good Friday, It commemorated Jesus’ trial and gruesome execution.
It was seemingly the end of everything for him and for his followers.
All of them had lost everything.
They were leaving everything behind.
Good Friday offers us an opportunity individually, to do the same thing, to leave behind all the stuff in our lives that’s not important, to leave behind everything that might be squashing our spirits, all that drama, all the self-pity, and the false delusion of superficial things.
Once we look deeply at ourselves, we can put all that self-limiting “stuff” to death.
It doesn’t serve us.
It doesn’t make us happier.
And then, when we roll away our Easter morning stone, like Jesus’ friends, we will see that there’s nothing there.
In the light of awareness, our old “stuff” is seen for what it is, nothing of any substance, linen wrappings on the floor of a cave.
Two exercises...
Here’s an Easter exercise that may help clarify what actually is essential in our lives.
Listen to these questions.
Don’t try to answer them in your head.
Just listen.
1. Name the five wealthiest people in the world.
2. Name the last five Heisman trophy winners.
3. Name the last five winners of the Miss America pageant.
4. Name ten people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer Prize.
5. Name the last half dozen Academy Award winners for best actor and actress.
The point is that while these accomplishments are significant, they have not impacted your life or mine in any substantive way.
Here’s a different quiz.
1. Think of a teacher who aided your journey through school.
2. Think of a friend who has helped you through a difficult time.
3. Think of a person who has taught you something worthwhile.
Think of a person who has made you feel appreciated and special.
5. Think of a person you enjoy spending time with.
The point is...
The point is that the people who make the biggest difference in our lives are the ones we connect with personally, and it’s often in the most ordinary ways.
We don’t have to rise from the dead.
It doesn’t require performing miracles or breaking records.
All we have to do is be there.
The most important thing any of us ever will do will be to make another person’s life gentler, even if for just one moment.
Our kindness is the thing that can be the greatest Easter miracle.
Rise to the occasion
Jesus died.
Christ is risen.
God is here, among us, and within us.
It’s the dawn of a new day.
Up from a past that's rooted in pain, I rise, she wrote.
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear, I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Jerry Brooks
son told her Jesus wasn't real. I'm going to send her your sermon... Henry