This is the sermon I prepared for Holy Cross Lutheran Church, Beatrice, Neb., for the Second Sunday of Easter, April 11, 2010.

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Readings

Acts 5:27–32
Psalm 118:14–29
Revelation 1:4–8
John 20:19–31

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Prayer

Stir up in us, O Father, the gift of your Holy Spirit, so that we may see your Son, risen and reigning as Lord of all. Amen.

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Message

Soon enough we will have finished the last of the ham,
bitten off all the ears from the chocolate bunnies,
peeled and eaten the last of the colored eggs,
and planted the lilies, now past their prime, in the garden.

And with those simple actions,
we will turn our attention
away from the dazzling and awe-inspiring events
of Holy Week and Easter.
We will fix our gaze, once again,
on the mundane, the grind,
the tasks and burdens that pile up in daily life.

Taxes are due this week.
Maybe the lawn mower needs servicing.
The windows are streaked and dusty with winter’s dirt.
Homework deadlines are approaching.
It’s been too long since the last load of laundry.
The car needs an oil change and a tire rotation.
That’s the picture of our lives—death by a thousand paper cuts.

And when the lists and piles and loads
surround us and rise around us
and come up to our necks,
we drop our uplifted eyes from the heights of Easter
to the rough and winding road before us
and we take the next weary step.

Maybe that’s not how you feel today.
Perhaps you still are blessed
with that heart-achingly full feeling of joy
that comes with praising God
from your toes to the top of your head
and reminding yourself, “Yes, he is risen. Alleluia!”

And if that is how you feel at this moment,
you are blessed by God.
Offer a silent prayer of thanksgiving to him,
and ask how you can share that joy with others.

But maybe the luster of Easter morning
has faded in the week just past.
And you are left remembering an echo of joy,
recalling how you once felt,
but wondering whether you can rekindle that feeling.

And the truth is that when we enter these cloudy days of the soul,
when we rely simply on our human strength,
when we lean on our own powers of memory,
when we cling to passing feelings of enthusiasm,
it is inevitable that our joy will fade.

Why? Because anything that we make from within ourselves,
whether it’s a feeling or a thought or an action—
any project or program—
will inevitably wind down, diminish, and fade away.

That’s just the way it is in a world broken by sin.

But, in truth, the Good News of Easter
is not like that at all.
The Good News is not the same as our feelings about it.
It is not equal to our thoughts in reflection upon it
or to our intentions to live in new ways because of it.

Because if this Good News, this message, this proclamation
about Jesus Christ and his victory over death
were just one more human project—
even a really attractive and engaging one—
it would have long ago faded away.

In fact, it might have never made it past the first week
after Jesus’ death on the cross.
His small band of followers was scattered and scared.
They went into hiding, for fear of persecution and death.
So it would have been no surprise if the disciples and the others
had just slowly slipped away,
finding their away out of Jerusalem and back to Galilee,
escaping from history into the pages of anonymity.

But instead, the Holy Spirit of God,
the same triune person who raised the Son of the Father from death,
moved among those followers,
breathed strength and power into them,
inspired them to action, to witness, to proclamation.

And so, as Acts recounts for us
just before the passage we heard today,
the apostles went about doing “many signs and wonders.”
People were still afraid to join them,
but “[they] held them in high esteem.”
And as Acts tells us,
“Yet more than ever
believers were added to the Lord,
great numbers of both men and women,
so that they even carried out the sick into the streets,
and laid them on cots and mats,
in order that Peter’s shadow
might fall on them as he came by.” (Acts 5:12–15, NRSV).

This disturbed the authorities.
So the high priests had the apostles arrested.
But an angel of the Lord opened the prison doors
and told Peter and the others to go free
and to continue proclaiming the Good News.

The authorities arrested the apostles again,
and brought them before the council.
And that’s where today’s reading tells us
that Peter and the apostles refused to follow
the ruling of the authorities.
They would not stop teaching the people about Jesus Christ.

And they said,
“We must obey God rather than any human authority.” (Acts 5:29, NRSV)

To our modern ears,
accustomed to the allure of our culture,
to its accent on autonomy—
where I decide what I will do with what is mine—
the whole way of life wrapped up in a phrase like this,
“We must obey God,”
strikes us as alien and authoritarian.

We don’t like to be told what to do.
We don’t want to obedient to others.
We don’t need anyone lording himself or herself over us.

But the Good News saves us from this arrogance,
it rescues from the tyranny of our selfishness.
It reminds us that the God
who seeks our obedience,
who probably expects it,
and who certainly deserves it,
is the God and Father who raised Jesus from the dead
by the power of their Spirit.

And if he can do that—and he did—
then he can fortify a fearful band of disciples
and give them the power
to perform signs, to work wonders,
to proclaim the Good News with power and conviction,
and to face down the authorities.

God can give them this strength of faith,
and he can bless them with the humility to be obedient,
and he can inspire them to distinguish
between the authority of God
and the rulings of humanity that do not submit to his will.
Thus they can say with full courage and conviction,
“We must obey God rather than any human authority.” (Luke 5:29, NRSV)

And what about us?
Well, the Holy Spirit works in our lives too.
We have received from God the gift of faith.
He sustains us by his Word and his sacred gifts.
He gathers us into a global community of faith.
He promises us his abundant mercy when we die.

And that is why we too can say,
“We must obey God rather than any human authority.” (Luke 5:29, NRSV)

And that includes any authority
that would seek to prevent us
from sharing the Good News,
and any authority that would seek to punish us
for living by the standards God sets,
and any authority, whether political or social,
whether by law or by custom
or even just by our own personal habits,
that would tempt and beguile us to live
as if God the Father had not raised the Son by the Spirit.

This is what really empowers and energizes us.
It’s not the Easter flowers, as beautiful as they were,
the music, as sweet-sounding as it was,
the food, as wonderful as the meals may have been.
It is purely and simply
that the Holy Spirit,
breathed out by the Father,
blows into us the breath of life,
so that you and I may rise each day
and serve God in obedience.

And with this gift
this daily resurrection,
we can join with Peter and the other apostles
and proclaim to all around us,
“And we are witnesses to these things,
and so is the Holy Spirit
whom God has given to those who obey him.” Amen. (Luke 5:32, NRSV)