Easter Sunday, April 23, 2000
One Saturday morning early in Lent, we came in and noticed the "elephant in the living room" — that hole in the window. We speculated about it. Could someone on the other side of the wash be shooting a gun and put a bullet through the window ? — but only one pane was broken, just the outside pane, not the inside pane. So, perhaps a bird? Well there are only two I know of that would be big enough and heavy enough to break a piece of tempered glass. One is a turkey, and they generally don't fly quite that high; the other is the California condor, but none have escaped recently from the Living Desert.
We proceeded to look around and at the bottom of the wall and on the sidewalk was a fist-sized stone. My assumption is that the stone had been launched against the window by some instrument and had broken a hole in it. We notified the glass company, we notified the insurance company, and it's still not fixed.
The reason isn't that we've not finished the capital funds campaign and that is what it is going to cost. The real reason it's not fixed is that when that window was replaced with tinted glass about a year and a half ago, people said we couldn't use a tint because it would obscure the view. The glass was replaced during the middle of the week, and on the following Sunday, no one noticed the change. The tinted glass was to protect the new organ, making the temperature much less than it had been before.
To replace the glass at that time, they worked from the inside. Now that the organ is in place, the glass company refuses to work inside. They will have to do it from the outside and in all of the Coachella Valley they cannot find a lift to raise two men and a 6 ft. x 3 ft. pane of double glass to that altitude, 45 feet from the ground. The machinery will have to come over the mountain and this is what is delaying the installation.
In case you are wondering if you happened into the annual parish meeting and were getting a property report, not so. We were just reading a story in the Gospel about another large stone that was launched away from a tomb to reveal another hole, the God-shaped hole in which Jesus was buried. This hole has been a topic for conversations for a long time around here during the week, in small services and with various people in the parish.
One of the things we have noticed is that through the hole in the window you can see clearly, and you notice for the first time that the rest of the view has been somewhat subdued for the last year and a half — also note that the shattering of that glass is strangely attractive. In the afternoon, when the sun plays off of the fractured glass, it gives a jewel-like effect. Then, on Maundy Thursday evening as we were lined up for the procession, one of our choir members noted that the way the sun hit the edge of the hole, the reflections formed a cross that was falling, tilted slightly to the north.
So, all kinds of conversations have gone around about what kind of meaning we can find in this thing. Originally, it was distracting; people noticed it, sort of fixed on it, and wondered how and what could have happened. Overtime, it became just an annoyance because it hasn't been fixed yet. Then, toward the end of the season, very few of us even noticed it, and those who normally sit in the transepts didn't have a clue. There were a lot of those folks in the last two weeks who said, "I have been here all this time, and I never noticed!
We had a few choices. We could leave it alone and eventually it would just become a part of the landscape at St. Margaret's — everyone would quit noticing. Or, as soon as a lift is available, we could have it replaced.
Now, that other stone, the much larger one that sealed the Lord's tomb, when it moves away to release the risen Lord, it too, knocks a giant hole; this time a God-shaped hole in your heart. When the stone is moved away from the empty tomb, something shatters. It shatters the very fabric of our belief of what life is — like life is short and death is permanent. Now the death of a 30 year old man has become an eternal event for life, for all of us, forever.
When that larger stone is moved aside from the tomb, it reveals for us a clearer view behind all the obscurities and crackling that we have brought into our lives or have been brought into our lives by various tragedies and hopelessness. And so, this large stone that was moved away through the night in order to allow the risen Lord to come out, opens up a window to the eternal in our hearts, and reveals a clearer view behind all the accretions that we have added and made so important and then forgotten that they were ever there. There is no way to repair the damage to our shattered fabric of belief, anymore that there is any way to repair that piece of glass. It all has to be replaced with something entirely new.
Now, we can have this piece of glass replaced, but the God-shaped hole in our hearts cannot be fixed by any one of us. The shattering of the fabric of belief can only be repaired by the replacement of Jesus Christ coming into that hole and filling it with his grace.
The disciples, as you know, didn't understand things very well. No matter how many times Jesus told parables and then took the twelve aside to explain to them in minute detail what he meant by them, they never quite got it. In spite of the fact that when he left Galilee to come to Jerusalem and they all said with Thomas, "Let us go and die with him," in spite of the fact that they said, "Lord we want to serve you to left and to right," in spite of the fact that they said, "Lord, we can drink the cup that you can drink," in spite of the fact they said, "Lord, we will never deny you, betray you or leave you in the lurch," — they never got it! And, on Maundy Thursday night, they were all gone, hiding because they thought everything was over.
On this Easter morning, they're not coming to the tomb to make sure it is empty and that the Lord has risen. A couple of women do, but not to make sure the Lord is risen. They come to the tomb to prepare the body for a proper burial. They have no hope that they are going to find anything but the large stone sealing the tomb. How two women are going to move it when six men could not is beyond them, but they are going anyway! Maybe the soldiers will help. When they get there, the stone is gone. It has been moved and in its place is a large gaping hole. Coming through the hole is a light from an angel of God who comes to them and says, "What are you doing here? If you are looking for Jesus Christ, he is not dead anymore. He is alive, and he has already gone to Galilee. That is where he will meet you. Go and tell all the disciples and Peter that he will meet them there."
The disciples still do not get it on Easter Day. They do not really get it on the following Sunday either — it's another fifty days. Finally, on Pentecost when it begins to sink in, when the Holy Spirit descends upon them with power and loosens their tongues to speak the resurrection glory to those gathered there — then they finally got it.
St. Paul, Saul of Tarsus, as he was known at that time, the Pharisee of Pharisees, the man who knew the scriptures inside and out, forward and backward, who knew all the commentaries on all the laws of Moses and was proud enough and rich enough to be able to observe every last one of them — he knew exactly what God wanted him to do, and he knew that God frowned on the heresy known as "the way." Paul knew that for the sake of the Jewish religion, he had to take arrest warrants to Damascus and arrest all those people and have them put to death. Paul, who saw all this so clearly, is struck blind and when his sight is partially restored, but only partially, he finally sees that God loves him and that God is calling him to share his love with people around the Mediterranean basin. And so, Paul finally moves from the blindness of clear vision to the sight of God's love and that God-shaped hole in his heart is filled.
You cannot fill God-shaped holes with just anything. We can't fill it with wealth. We can't fill it with hobbies. We can't fill it with homes or possessions, or position, or other people. It was Augustine of Hippo about the turn of the fifth century who said, "My soul is restless, Oh Lord, until it rests in thee." The only thing that would fill his heart and our hearts is resting in Christ.
How many of us come here today with a God-shaped hole in our hearts? How many of us have tried to fill those holes with the putty of social relations and material possessions? How many of us have allowed callouses to develop around the edges of that hole so that somehow the pain is reduced — the pain of separation, the pain of hopelessness? And, how many of us come into a place like this, week after week, without noticing any longer that a hole exists except for that nagging restlessness in the depth of our souls?
That being the case, today is the day of great good news. For today is the day when the angel comes to us, just as he comes to the Marys and said to them, "Do not be afraid, do not be afraid. Jesus is not dead, the body has not been stolen, he is risen and he goes ahead of you to meet you in the place of your daily activities. So go and collect up all the men and go back to Galilee because that is the place where Jesus is. He will meet you there; he will meet you wherever you allow him to do so."
The angel announces to us that Jesus is out of the tomb, out of your preconceived notions about what Christianity really is. He is out of the tomb of your hopelessness that you will ever know what it is to have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ; ever to know what it is to have the assurance of eternal life with God. Jesus is out of the tomb of your willful disregard of his call to discipleship. He has broken those bonds. As he walks into your locked room and your locked heart, and he says to the women and the disciples late in the day, "Peace be with you."
The women in the garden and the men in the locked room were at first terrified, terrified that they were seeing an apparition, terrified that Jesus was, in fact, alive. But once they allowed him to enter into their locked rooms and hearts (or as we read the story, they don't allow anything), he just shows up in spite of the locks, in spite of their barricading the door against the Roman soldiers and the risen Lord. Once he entered their locked rooms and their locked hearts, they discovered he brought not terror, not fear, but true life and abundant life.
That is the promise of Christ and the promise of the resurrection. So, won't you let him fill your heart today? Whatever shape the God-shaped hole is in, once you let him bring resurrection hope to your life and for eternity; once you let him enter and bring you lasting peace and abundant joy — those are the gifts he has for you. What was true in the middle of the first millennium continues to be true today: "Your soul will always be restless until it rests in him."
Amen.
The Rev. Dr. Robert Certain
rgcertain@stmargarets.org
23 April 2000