Theological Truth: The Resurrection empowers us to walk the unexpected way of God’s love.
Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Not long after Shannon and I arrived in Staunton, in the darkness of winter and Covid lockdown when we were still meeting you under porch lights hidden under hats, scarves, and masks, we got the news that my mom had fallen ill. We needed to return to New Orleans. Urgently.
We flew on one of those “Zero Dark Thirty” flights out of Charlottesville, in the dark with only the Waze app to guide us to the airport. I was driving and Shannon was navigating, kind of like the blind leading the blind in the dark. We exited I-64 as directed, but because there was none of the customary airport signage, I wondered, “Is this the right way?” When we started winding our way through residential streets, I thought, “This can’t be the way.” But when we left the neighborhoods, driving further along curvy country back roads and ever-closer to our departure time, I panicked insisting, “This is absolutely not the way!”
And then we came to a clearing and saw the runway lights. Turns out, it was the right way.
Traveling to New Orleans several times over the next few months also felt like the wrong way. Leaving the parish for extended periods of time after having just arrived was not how I imagined beginning a new pastoral relationship. I had a plan in mind, and this wasn’t it! I remember some wise senior wardens, loving retired clergy, and our helpful staff offering this advice, “Do you really think we want a pastor who doesn’t tend to his dying mother?” I’m slow, but I eventually catch on. What had not been the way I had expected was indeed the right way.
I wonder if during Jesus’ passion and death, his disciples were shaking their heads in disbelief and thinking, “Surely this can’t be the way?” I imagine Mary Magdalene and the other Mary walking to the tomb in a grief-stricken state of denial insisting, “Surely this can’t be the way.” And when told by both the angel and the risen Christ himself to not be afraid, to go to Galilee, and there they would see him—after their astonishment faded—I wouldn’t blame them for asking, “What? Galilee? This can’t be the way.”
Why Galilee? What is it about Galilee? For one thing, “Galilee of the Gentiles” was a borderland, a place of diversity and complexity. Galilee was not Jerusalem or Rome. It was not a place of wealth or power, influence or importance. Galilee was on the fringe—close enough to be under Roman rule and Jerusalem’s influence, but also distant enough to breathe easier and act differently. It may seem like an unlikely place to change the world, but as we’ve already heard, Jesus’ resurrection has shaken the earth, opened the tomb, conquered death, and rendered the powerful powerless. The order of things has been reversed. Turns out, the way we had not expected is indeed the right way. Turns out, God has been there all along, even and especially in the Galilees of our lives, guiding us to a still more excellent way.
I had the good fortune of visiting Grace Rice this week. As you may know, Grace had some complications from her recent heart surgery and spent a few days “close to the gates” before rejoining her family and friends on this side of heaven. Seeing her bright eyes and warm smile was a bit like talking with Lazarus after Jesus raised and restored him. I asked her if she had any insights or inspirations to share with us on Easter. This is what she said calmly and immediately: “Tell them to trust that God will be there.”
The message of Grace echoes the message of the angel: Do not be afraid of going to the Galilees of our lives, even though this way may seem dangerous, complicated, or unexpected. Trust that God will be there. Trust that it is exactly in the borderlands of the world, on the margins of our society, and in the complicated parts of our own lives that we have seen and will see the risen Christ.
This isn’t just an Easter event, this is the paradigm for eternal life; this is the way of God’s ever-flowing, never-ending love. Trust that God will be there to redeem it all—our failed relationships, our aging bodies, our disappointments and losses. Go to these Galilees—the places where there isn’t consensus, where opinions diverge, and people differ from us. This may not be the way we were expecting, certainly not the way of the world, but it is precisely here that we see the risen Christ.
This shouldn’t surprise us. Just as the Church began on the edge, against enormous odds, and through poorly equipped and less-than-perfect disciples, so did Trinity. Trinity began in Galilee…not the first century Galilee, a Galilee of this country—the frontier for the settlers, the land with a mixture of people and a shared need to survive. The authoritative forces of church and state were near enough to rule, but not close enough to scrutinize. The Church of England established Augusta Parish (later renamed Trinity) in 1746, because it was part of the British colony, but there weren’t many Anglicans on this side of the Blue Ridge then. Trinity’s original vestry consisted primarily of Presbyterians. Lord, have mercy! More important than when we were established, however, is why we were established—to care for the orphans and widows and for the burial of the indigent.
Does that sound familiar? It reminds me of the sermon we just heard from Peter as the gospel pushed out to new Galilees. “I truly understand that God shows no partiality…You know the message he sent to the people of Israel, preaching peace by Jesus Christ—he is Lord of all. That message spread throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee…how he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him.”
People of God, followers of the crucified and risen Christ, bearers of the Holy Spirit, we have nothing to fear. Christ has conquered death and turned the world right side up. It may not have happened the way we expected, but it is the right way. Do not be afraid; go to the Galilees in your lives and in the world. There we will see him. Believe this message of Grace and the power of Love: Trust that God will be there. Not even death can separate us from this love of God in Christ Jesus.
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
— Fr. AJ Heine, Rector, Trinity Episcopal Church of Staunton
Easter Sunday, April 9, 2023
Readings: Acts 10:34-43; Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24; Colossians 3:1-4; Matthew 28:1-10
