Wanting to Believe, Terrified by Truth
An Easter sermon by Brent J. Eelman
Abington Presbyterian Church
April 8, 2007

Luke 24: 1-12
But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. ²They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, ³but when they went in, they did not find the body. ⁴While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. ⁵The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, ‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. ⁶Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, ⁷that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.’ ⁸Then they remembered his words, ⁹and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. ¹⁰Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. ¹¹But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. ¹²But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.*  

“I want to believe.” Those words were shared with me years ago when a professor from a university engaged me in an informal theological discussion. He was a mathematician and, to my mind, quite brilliant. “I want to believe.” He understood the world rationally and scientifically. He could explain any number of different things about the world, nature, indeed life itself. But something was missing. As our conversation continued, it became apparent that what he wanted desperately was a reason to hope. He was fearful of the future like many of us. On the one hand, he wanted to believe, on the other, he was afraid…. afraid to misplace his faith, afraid that his faith would disappoint him.

“I want to believe.” To those of you who are X-File fans, you know that this slogan is on the poster that hangs in Mulder’s office. But this is not just about believing in UFO’s and flying saucers. There is something in us that longs for transcendence. There is something in the human psyche that wants to hear, wants to know that there is more than just this moment. We confront this question any number of times, but it is the most intense at the time of tragedy.

Two weeks ago, when we buried my brother-in-law… I felt this, not only on the part of others, but in my own soul… “There is more than this…” I remembered my 8^th grade science teacher telling us that ultimately we were nothing more that 14 dollars worth of chemicals. (talk about destroying self esteem!) Is that true? Probably, but are we not more than the sum of our parts? We can arrange and rearrange the chemicals, but can we make them breathe? Can we make them dream? Can we make them laugh, smile, and cry? Can we enable chemicals to reason and explore the depths of what it means to be human and alive? I remember sitting there with tears on my cheek wondering if the pain and loss that I was feeling was merely some chemical reaction triggered by another reaction. Those thoughts terrify me, and so, in grief, I cling to the hope that “there is more than this.”

Isn’t that the story of Easter? The story should end with the cross. It should end with the tomb… That is where the story always ends. That is the end. We recently watched the Academy Award winning movie, “The Departed”. It ends with death: no redemption, just loose ends.

But Easter doesn’t end that way. Easter is not an epilogue! It is not the story of what the followers did after Jesus died. It is the story of what the risen Christ did. It declares that the end of life is life itself!

Yet there are times when it sounds “too good to be true,” and it is that truth which is terrifying. That is the source of the doubts that many of us have. It sounds too good to be true. But doubt is not inconsistent with faith. Faith, at its strongest, is intimate with doubt. I am sure that the women who went to anoint Jesus’ body with spices had their doubts. It is obvious that the disciples of Jesus, the twelve people with whom he was intimate during his ministry had their doubts. When the women came back and told them what happened at the tomb they thought that it was “an idle tale.”

They wanted to believe… They wanted to believe that what the women were telling them was the truth… but it frightened them.. It was easier.. indeed safer to believe that it was some wild crazy tale… They gave into their doubts… because it was safe. If you don’t believe, you won’t get hurt. You won’t be disappointed.

Then there is Peter. I like Peter. He was impetuous, loud and brash. He was one of those individuals who speaks first and thinks later. He was the one who first identified Jesus as the Messiah. He was also the one who denied him three times just three days earlier. Peter was there and heard this wild story from the women. He was not as dismissive as the others. Sure it might be “an idle tale”, but he decided to check it out. So he went to the tomb. Notice how different his approach was. He didn’t walk in like the women. He stood at the entrance and looked in.

I love this story of Peter, because he sounds a lot like us. He was frozen there at the door. He wanted to believe. That was why he was there. But he was afraid, almost terrified and that was why he didn’t enter the tomb and ultimately left speechless.

In a previous chapter of my life, I trained pointing dogs. When a dog points a bird, and stands there perfectly still, we are observing two conflicting instincts. The first is the desire to pounce on the bird, and the second is the instinct to hesitate. Whenever an animal is about to pounce, it hesitates for one second. That hesitation is the moment that courage is summoned for the pounce. In pointing dogs, that hesitation is prolonged so that they will not pounce, consequently they stand over the bird motionless and rigid. Peter at the tomb, was standing their motionless… wanting to believe, but hesitating, unable to move and motionless.

Then there is us. I believe that Easter Sunday brings out the Peter in us. It also brings out a lot of people who can identify with Peter but aren’t always here. Here, though, because they want to believe. 2 billion people, world wide will attend services today. My guess is that it is twice as many as any other given Sunday. I celebrate that, because in includes the “Peters” of the world. I am sure that there are many in our midst today. We are ones who want to believe, yet are stuck, hesitating, perhaps fearful. We are the ones who stand at the door of faith where others have entered boldly. We stand there, hoping that it is true, wanting to believe, but fearful. We are fearful to commit, lest it not be. We are the ones who want to believe that this is not “an idle tale”, and yet there is this fear that it might be. Perhaps you count yourselves among them.

Listen to the Good News. This same Christ, whose empty tomb we celebrate today, declared that Peter was the foundation of His church. Peter, the one who fears, the one who harbors some doubts and skepticism, is the rock upon which the church is built, even today! God knows that we have doubts. God knows that we have our fears. But we also have our desires. We want to believe yet we are frozen between fear and faith: motionless. Ultimately Peter broke from his fear and took the step, indeed the leap of faith. He followed the women who were the first to believe. If you find yourself caught between belief and fear, the risen one, Jesus Christ, beckons you to take the step of faith. It is not a blind step. It is taken with fear and doubt, but it is ultimately taken in faith.

I will close with my personal confession: I am a person of our age, and our era is one of reason and science. It is also an age of doubt and questioning. My faith journey is not without its doubting and questioning moments. But it is a journey, and that journey has led me to believe that life is more than a bunch of chemicals interacting with each other. Mathematical equations and scientific theorems can explain a great deal, and we have benefited greatly by this knowledge. But they cannot explain hope, nor can they give us hope. They can tell us a great deal about life, but they cannot create life. They cannot make a stone breath!

Easter speaks to me so loudly and clearly, louder than any day, that there is more than this moment; that life is not meaningless. The grave is not the end. Easter is an affirmation of life, and a silencing of the cynicism that destroys the soul and injures others. There is no better news than this. He is risen! He is risen indeed! We can believe and fear no more. Amen.
 

*The New Revised Standard Version Bible, (Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson Publishers) 1989.

Abington Presbyterian Church, Abington, Pennsylvania,  www.apcusa.org