“Ultimate Liberation”
Mark 16.1–8
The Rev. Hal Chorpenning, Plymouth Congregational UCC
Fort Collins, Colorado
Easter 2024
 
The Bible has macro-stories, broad brush strokes, that tie its core messages together. (Understanding of course that the Bible is essentially a library of the ways our ancient Jewish and early Christian forebears experienced the holy.)

The Creation stories in Genesis shouldn’t be read as a geology or cosmology textbook to have meaning. Instead, we understand Genesis as speaking some essential truths that are more-than literal. While some civilizations in the ancient Near East had creation stories that placed humans in the role of being fodder for their deity, and while Greeks and Romans suffered at the whim and caprice of their gods, YHWH creates everything and declares that it is very good, providing all that the humans in the garden will need. Why would God provide for humanity, rather than reversing the roles and having humans exist in eternal servitude to God?

Paul, a Pharisee and follower of Jesus, answered this way: “Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”

God creates life in love, for love. That is one of the great macro stories of scripture.

The God of Exodus is faithful to Moses and the people who are in captivity in Egypt, who suffer in bondage under the boot of Pharaoh, and God shows up as one who delivers people from grave injustice and oppression. That is one of the reasons that the narratives of Exodus are so critically important to the Black church in this country: our national history is replete with captivity, enslavement, injustice, and oppression.

YHWH is no Egyptian god of the underworld! No! Our God is a force for freedom and deliverance. Liberation is another of the great macro stories that has a broad sweep across our sacred texts. Liberation says something essential about the character of God and humanity.

And so, we find ourselves at the conclusion of Holy Week. We have waved palm fronds as Jesus enters Jerusalem. We have lived through to poignant Last Supper with Jesus, witnessed his arrest and torture, and ultimately his ignominious death on a cross. It is difficult for any of us to imagine the shame, the pain, the utter devastation of death on the cross. Where are the macro themes of love and liberation? Most of us would prefer to jump from the triumphal parade on Palm Sunday to the glory of Easter Sunday without having to reckon with the intervening tragedy.

We probably don’t think too much about what happened on Saturday, between Friday’s crucifixion and Sunday’s resurrection. But that is not universally true. Martin Luther wrote a hymn to reflect that in-between time, “Christ lag in Todesbanden,” “Christ lay in the bonds of death.” Luther talks about a personification of the power of death, which attempts to keep us all imprisoned. Then he claims that Jesus breaks the bonds of death and that nothing remains but the faint outline of death, which has lost its sting.

This may not be the Easter story you had in mind, and part of the reason for that is that most of us have been shaped by the western understanding of resurrection as Jesus being raised and leaving an empty tomb on Sunday morning. Yet that is not the way Eastern Christians have primarily understood the story. For them, the narrative is not just about an empty tomb, but rather breaking down the gates of the underworld and removing the power of death that keeps humanity fearful and unable to reach fullness of life as those who love like God loves.

I included an image on the cover of your bulletin where you will see the eastern vision of Jesus overcoming the forces of death, which in Greek is called anástasis, the Greek word for resurrection. Jesus has one hand on Adam and one hand on Eve, pulling them up from the underworld through the broken gates of Hades. And they aren’t simply the first two humans, but rather they represent all of humanity. If you look below the broken gates, you’ll see fragmented locks and keys. And while you are studying the icon, hear how Luther’s hymn continues: “How fierce and dreadful was the strife when life and death contended; for death was swallowed up by life and all its power was ended.”

It isn’t that Jesus put an end to our physical dying as human beings. We know that each of us will eventually succumb. While composing this sermon I visited one of our beloved members, who was actively dying as I wrote. And that experience drove home for me that our physical dying is real, but it isn’t the last word.

So many Christians fixate on eternal life as being delivered safely to heaven after we die, and perhaps that’s the way it will be. I’m more or less agnostic about whether there is a place we go if we have lived virtuously and another place we go if we’ve been bound up in self-interest and self-deception. I am okay leaving what will be up to God. But, what if eternal life has already commenced for us? What if it’s up to us to live into our most profound and eternal selves that somehow continue even through the broken-open portal of death? We are given a choice in this life about where we will devote our effort, either supporting the forces of love and life or giving our energy to the forces of hate and death. None of us does it perfectly, but each of us can approach eternity with loving intention that echoes the way Jesus lived his life.

What do you say about someone who dearly loves life and doesn’t want to die? What do you say about someone who is willing to face and endure a painful death in spite of loving life? What do you say about someone who is willing to lay down his life for his friends? It sounds to me like someone who says yes to life and love, but who is willing to confront death for the right reasons. Anyone who can do that has disempowered death. It’s not that physical death won’t happen, but perhaps as we say in the UCC, “Never put a period where God has placed a comma.” Maybe death is a comma and not a full-stop. Death won’t get the last word in the conversation of life and love.

If you had to sum it up in one word what Jesus is doing in that anástasis image, what would it be? For me it is liberation! Liberation is breaking the bonds that hold us back from living and loving. Liberation is saying NO to the forces of death and YES to the divine power of life and love.

Is it liberating for you to know that Jesus went through about the worst death before us and continues to be present within us and among us? Is it liberating for you to know that we are empowered to work for love and life and to know that God is with us? Is it liberating for you to know that there is nothing in this world or the next that can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus? You can shake off the shackles that have been holding you back from living life to its fullest. They have been unlocked! You can remove those handcuffs of fear that have chafed at your wrists every time you are ready to reach out and take a risk on being more loving. You are unbound!

The most profound words I have ever heard about resurrection were spoken from this pulpit, not by me but by my mentor and friend Marcus Borg 12 years ago. “Jesus is loose in the world!” What does that say about the power of death? If Jesus can’t be held back even by death, what does it say about God’s great stories of liberation, love, and life? Jesus is loose in the world, and so are we!
This is the good news! Thanks be to God! Christ is risen! Alleluia!

Amen.

© 2024 Hal Chorpenning, all rights reserved. Please contact [email protected] for permission to reprint, which will typically be granted for non-profit uses.

Liberation into Life
A post- Pentecost sermon related to Psalm 146:5-9
 
The person whose help is the God of Jacob--
    the person whose hope rests on the Lord their God--
    is truly happy!
6 God: the maker of heaven and earth,
    the sea, and all that is in them,
God: who is faithful forever,
7     who gives justice to people who are oppressed,
    who gives bread to people who are starving!
The Lord: who frees prisoners.
8     The Lord: who makes the blind see.
    The Lord: who straightens up those who are bent low.
    The Lord: who loves the righteous.
9     The Lord: who protects immigrants,
        who helps orphans and widows,
        but who makes the way of the wicked twist and turn!
 
For the Word of God in Scripture
For the Word of God among us
For the Word of God within us
Thanks be to God
 
 
Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen is a physician, an elder, and an author known by many for her books Kitchen Table Wisdom and My Grandfather’s Blessings.  She shares the story of a story, a story of her grandfather, a Jewish mystic, who told her on her 4th birthday a story of the birthday of the world from the Kabbalah, the ancient Jewish mystic text.  As the ancient story goes, there first was only the Divine Presence as the Holy Darkness, the ein sof. Then this Holy Darkness birthed a great ray of light…. But, as she tells it, then there was an accident and the light was shattered and scattered into countless shards which fell into all things and all events, though deeply hidden. Humanity is here to find that light, to lift it up and restore the innate unity and wholeness of the world.  This great project of purpose is known in Judaism in Hebrew as tikkun olam, the restoration of the world. Tikkun olam is a collective task in which all humanity is called to participate. Tikkun olam, the restoration of the world. Beautiful.
 
Woven into the stories of humanity and even into our some of our Scriptures are stories that forget the original and ultimate unity of Life, and therefore the unity of humanity, the unity of Creation, and instead act out a story of separation, an illusion of separation where the unlikeness, the differences, become primary and set the stage for preferences, ranking, and suspicion and put us on the road to de-humanizing or objectifying the other or even ourselves. We forget who we are as a part of a great circle, and what the world is as a whole.
 
Indeed, there are many expressions of the illusion of separation and several are mentioned in our text for this morning, Psalm 146. Did you hear them mentioned? Oppression, imprisonment, hunger, burden, estrangement.  
 
This is where God and where the activity and invitation of the Divine come in to meet these degraded and life-draining conditions with something else, with the antidote from the consequences of separated living: liberation. Liberation back into freedom and dignity of being a Divine spark of Creation. Liberation into the enlivening connection, blessing, and responsibility of Life’s unity as we serve and honor that of which we are a part. Liberation leads to Life.
 
Here’s another ancient Jewish story to help us along.
 
The water started at his ankles, but then he went further in.
Up to his knees……. and then thighs….. and then waist.
Behind him, his people stood watching, curious and anxious. And behind them, close enough to see in the distance, the Pharoah of Egypt and his troops in pressing pursuit.
 
And here he was, Nachson ben Aminidav, walking into the water. You see he had been told that God would act, that there was a way through, even though there seemed no way. Despite the inspiring victory of his people leaving their slave camps just a while ago, they were a long way from their hoped for Promised Land. And now, faced with the sea in front of them and the pursuing slave masters behind them, the people were trapped, in a tight jam, you might say.
 
In fact, that is what is implied in Hebrew where the word for Egypt, Mitzrayim, is a sound play with the word meitzarem which means a tight space, narrow straits.
 
So the people found themselves in a tight jam, with seemingly with no way through. But Moses had said that God would act and the waters would part, yet the waters hadn’t parted, and so Nachson went into the water, faithfully, hopefully. Further in he went, waters rising, ever rising. Past his waist, up to his chest and over his shoulders. But he kept going, right up to his nostrils the waters came. And then, only then, when the waters threatened to cut off his very breath of life did the waters begin to separate, allowing the people to cross and find a way through their tight jam into the spacious liberation on the other side.
 
This Jewish story from the midrash, the ancient Jewish commentary on the Scriptures, illustrates that acts of initiative that involve risk and discomfort are part of our co-creative task if we are to realize liberation that gives life.
 
Psychotherapist Estelle Frankel draws on her Jewish heritage in her book Sacred Therapy and sees in the Exodus story a description of the psyche’s journey to liberation. And on that journey, we come to places of particular tightness and narrowness, of seemingly no way through, places of constriction and contraction. And so we, too, like those Hebrews, in order to further the passage of life from bondage and contraction and restriction into freedom and dignity, into love and life will sometimes need to get in up to our nostrils before Spirit’s liberating movement is evident, before the signs of passage or transformation even begin to emerge. Making those steps is a creative act of trust, of faith. 
 
It’s not possible to faithfully engage our tradition and teaching without engaging the great myth of the Exodus story. Foundational for Judaism and for Christianity, it is a deep human story reminding us of the deep longing of life for liberation and the journey that is taken to realize it.
 
And that liberation in the Scriptural saga is both internal and external.  As the old Hasidic saying goes: It was not enough to take the Jews out of Egypt. It was necessary to take Egypt out of the Jews. There is an ongoing internal journey to liberation for all of us.
 
And, liberation is external. Our tradition and certainly the Divine teaching and witness of Jesus was to alter the situation of suffering that a person was in.  Whether through healing an illness or injury, or through bringing someone back into community, or teaching a freeing truth to affect a situation, Jesus liberated people from the external situation they were in, helped to change their external circumstance. So often, the internal and external are linked. In the Jesus stories and in the Exodus saga, those liberating changes came with actions born of faith, born of an internal orientation of trust and vision, a willingness and a kind of courage to step out in faith. So often Jesus would say, "Your faith has made you well."

In the midrash story we just heard, one wonders what was it that led Nachson into the water, all the way up to his nostrils. I might imagine that in him somewhere deep down there was a vision of what liberation might feel and look like, and a desire, a determination, a longing to taste it.  My spiritual hunch here is that this comes from the piece of the Divine planted in each of us. Maybe it’s like an image, or a spark, or as the ancient Jewish story says, a shard of Divine light. 
 
In these times, do we still have that vision alive in our hearts? Do we lose our heart of vision, our faithful imagination?
Is it too painful to remember God’s Dream for us all, too easy to be cynical rather than vulnerable to being broken hearted?
Theologian Robert McAfee Brown notes that one of the core elements of liberation theology is hope, the hope that generates the sense of possibility that things can be different, that we are not fated to a forever of injustice and suffering. The poet Wendell Berry’s says “be joyful though you have considered all the facts.”
 
I think Spirit, when we really tap into her flow, inspires that kind of knowing and joy.  I think that kind of faithful inspiration is what is coming through the Psalmist of our Scripture reading today. Psalm 146 begins with praise, high praise that comes from that flow of joy in the vision of liberation; prisoners set free, sight to the blind, food to the hungry, justice for the oppressed, inclusion for those pushed out and forgotten. Ah, what joy that is and will be!
 
The Psalmist bears witness to the GodMystery whose business is liberation.  The Spirit whose enduring presence and movement and love opens up space, makes a way in the midst of tight straits, in the midst of our contraction of disappointment and anxiety, or fear and hard heartedness.
 
Poet and great elder Maya Angelou said simply that “love liberates.”
She ought to know. Maya was sexually assaulted as a child by a man. When she told, that perpetrator was found dead some days later. Some say her uncles did it. She thought she had killed him by speaking. So she didn’t speak. For six years. And while other children called her dumb and a moron for being mute, her grandmother just kept telling her, “Sister, I don’t care what they say. When you and the Good Lord decide it’s time, you will be a teacher.”
 
It is the God of Love, the Spirit of Love that comes through people like Maya Angelou’s grandmother, that liberates, that sees hope and possibility, and, like Nachson, the one who entered the sea up to his nostrils, that has the courage to act and to endure in faith. We all have that Divine Spark in us, that place that already knows what liberation is, what our deep Divine unity is. And every time we nurture, magnify, and listen to that place in us and in others and in Creation, we will have the vision and heart and Resurrection faith to walk into the waters of our liberation and our re-union.
 
Today is a holiday of liberation. It’s June 19th aka Juneteenth. Juneteenth commemorates the occasion of some Africans’, and their descendants’, enslaved in America, learning of their emancipation on a June day in 1865 in Galveston, Texas. Juneteenth was proclaimed a federal holiday in 2021 by President Biden. This designation introduced the Juneteenth holiday to a wider American audience, although the holiday has been celebrated for over 150 years among some African Americans. 
 
Racism is one of the most effective ways to keep us in a story of separation, to keep us from God’s Liberating, life-giving Presence. It’s bad for people of color and for white people. And racism doesn’t have to look like burning crosses and crazy people with guns, though we know all too well it is still violent and lethal for people of color.
 
Sometimes racism works effectively by simply sidelining and ignoring. I had never heard of Juneteenth until a few years ago because Eurocentric, white culture was so deeply centered in so much of my education and exposure and relationships. Racism also works in subconsciously. Only in retrospect did I realize, in my hometown where there were a number of people of color, even a few in positions of authority, that our town probably would not have stood for any more in leadership and probably expected them to be more perfect. Nobody told me this explicitly, but, somehow I absorbed it. I knew it. This is racism and a form of oppression, holding down, holding back, a form of separating.
 
There is not enough time this morning to go further in this specific form of painful separation known as racism except to say, my friends, that for most of us there is a lot more wading into the waters of awareness about the subtle and powerful ways that white supremacy continues to live in us and in our community. And, let us be clear, white supremacy is in opposition to the liberating God of Jesus and to the ongoing project of Liberation that God is ever about. I’m happy to be in the ongoing discussion and practice of liberating ourselves from racism and to recommend further resources.
 
One practice is simply to acknowledge what has not been acknowledged: Today is Juneteenth and to learn about it. And tomorrow is World Refugee Day. Both days are about liberation, aren’t they? Like those enslaved who sought refuge from it, all those seeking refuge whom we call refugees are those in a tight space seeking enough security and enough resources to be liberated for a new life. I am so glad that we as a congregation are joining others in supporting the Jan family who came to Fort Collins from Afghanistan. As mentioned, COVID visited the Jan household this previous week so we will postpone our reception for them until this fall. But our work of serving their lives and liberation continues. May they travel further on the path of liberation.
 
So this morning, the invitation of faith, the way to being an Easter People, a people of the Holy Spirit, offered is to celebrate the Liberating Spirit of God, the Maker of Heaven and earth, and to firmly hold the Divine vision of liberation and deep unity. And then to act, to follow Nachson right into the waters, up to your nostrils, if necessary, so that Creation and all people might reach the other side, so that we might participate in tikkun olam, the restoration of the world.
 
On this Juneteenth Day, let us ask ourselves how we might participate in God’s liberating movement and let us pray for the guidance, vision, vulnerability, and strength to do so.