The Easter of the Empty Churches

The Easter of the Empty Churches

Easter Day - April 12, 2020

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I have to admit, the idea of empty churches at Easter has had me rather bummed.

"Glum". That's the word I've been using. Glum sort of captures the mood better than sad.

Churches are always at their most beautiful at Easter. The floors and the silver are always polished to a fare thee well, the white vestments and altar hangings with gold trim have been freshly cleaned and the folks who arrange the lilies and tulips, the lilacs and jonquils, the hyacinths and forsythia branches always outdo themselves.

I understand that some are calling this The Easter of Empty Churches. Apparently, it’s not ever happened before. Not during any of the other calamities or catastrophes like war and epidemics and natural disasters that have beset creation and its creatures. This year, churches around the world are as empty as the empty tomb on Easter Day – well, at least, for those who are wise.

Which got me to thinking about the empty tomb and how its emptiness filled up so many people’s lives. Indeed, that empty tomb started a worldwide movement known then as “The Way” and its adherents “The People of the Way”. Today, of course, that movement is known as Christianity, and the churches and its people are known as Christian.

So, this year, as I sat at the empty tomb with “Mary and the other Mary” and listened to the angel, I came with this question: How did so much fullness come out of emptiness? As I sat with that question, a memory – well, actually two memories – resurfaced for me.

One of my preaching classes was a joint effort between the Episcopal Divinity School, Harvard and Weston School of Theology. It was called “Ethical Themes for Relevant Preaching” and was taught by none other than Dr. Katie Geneva Cannon, a leading ethicist and one of the founders of Womanist Theology. A requirement of this very rigorous course was that we each had to preach at least once and be evaluated by our students.

I was terrified. I was not alone. At one of the breaks, as we commiserated with each other, one of the students from Harvard told a story that has come back to me a time or two.

He was an ordained Presbyterian minister who was working on his doctorate. When he was in seminary, before he was ordained, his homiletics course required that every student had to preach “on-demand” – in other words, the professor would read a passage from scripture and then point to a student and say, “Preach.”

The time came for one student to preach. Terrified, he got up from his seat, stood in front of the podium, took some deep breaths and then said, “Do you know what I’m going to say?” His classmates shook their head no.

And he said, “Neither do I. The service is ended go in peace.” And he sat down.

The professor wasn’t very happy, and said “I’ll give you another chance tomorrow.”

The very next day, the professor read another passage of scripture then pointed to the young man and said, “Preach.” The young man moved slowly to the podium, took a deep breath and said to the congregation, his fellow students, “Do you know what I’m going to say?” 

They all shook their heads ‘yes’. He looked at them and said, “Then, there’s no reason for me to tell you. The service is ended, go in peace.” And, he sat down again.

The professor was infuriated and he said, “Tomorrow is your last day at this seminary if you don’t preach the gospel.’

The next day came and, just like the day before, the professor read another section from scripture, looked at the young man and said “Preach.”

The young man made his way again to the pulpit, took a deep breath and said, “Do you know what I’m going to say?” And some of the students shook their head yes and others shook their head no.

And he said, “Okay, then. Those who know, tell those who don’t know.”

And the professor came up to the student and put his arm around him and said, “Today, the gospel has been proclaimed here.” Oh, and PS: That student got an A for the course.

Those who know tell those who don’t know. You know, that’s what good parents do. In a good congregation, that’s what makes them vital and alive. 

It’s not about the ordained. It’s about the priest and the deacons and the bishop empowering and equipping those who know to be able to tell those who don’t know. 

That’s what makes an excellent church school or adult education program. Those who know tell those who don’t know. That should be the largest line item in the church budget – Christian education and formation - right after mission and outreach.

That’s what we see happening in today’s gospel. (Matthew 28:1-10) Mary arrives at the tomb with the other Mary and finds it empty. She doesn’t know what is going on. But, an angel meets her there who says to her, “Do not be afraid. I know you’re looking for Jesus. He’s not here. He’s been raised.” 

He tells them to come and see that he’s not there.

And then, now that they know, he tells them to, “Go quickly and tell his disciples. They will see him in Galilee.” Those who know tell those who don’t know. And, their lives are changed.

The disciples meet the Risen Lord in Galilee and it changed their lives. From there they went out into the world and told what they knew to those who don’t know. And, lives are changed.

And, I think maybe, just maybe, this Easter of the Empty Churches and the sadness it makes us feel teaches us something about what Mary and the other Mary and the disciples felt when they saw the empty tomb.

I think what they know that they are teaching us today is that it’s not about the tomb or the building. It’s about the Resurrection. It’s about how we meet the Risen Lord in our lives today and how we tell the story of how our lives have been changed.

But mostly, it’s about making sure that what we know, we tell those who don’t know. 

Some people call this ‘evangelism’, but really, all it is is the irresistible, transforming power of the Resurrection.

We have the opportunity, this year, this Easter, to consider how the temporary emptiness of our church buildings might fill us with the same spirit, the same excitement, the same joy that Mary 'and the other Mary' and the disciples knew.

For that is the message of Easter: Christ is risen! For this movement called Christianity to continue, for the church to be healthy, those who know, must tell those who don’t know. 

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Amen.