RESURRECTION
An American physician of my acquaintance was once asked what resurrection meant to him. He was brought up in a Christian home, though he had become more Buddhist in his stated convictions than Christian. Still, he left a cushy practice in the Midwest to move to his nation’s capital to work with a Christian mission that provided medical care for the homeless and indigent usually hidden from tourists. He answered the question posed to him this way: “As a scientist, I am trained to be skeptical about such things. As a doctor, I have never seen a dead person come back to life. I don’t believe in resurrection, I guess, but I sure like hanging out with people who do!”
As we ponder our way through another Easter season, we might consider the same question. What do we make of this matter of resurrection in the Christian story? It is pretty clear in the New Testament that those who followed Jesus were adamant that he had been seen alive again by many witnesses after his death and burial. Fact? Delusion? Hype? Rhetoric? Metaphor? My own mind is not fully made up on this matter. I remain open to mystery, as a dear colleague once put it, speaking for himself. The way I approach the matter, though, is this: Whether the story is true or not, what truth does it reveal?
Let me approach that question from a wider perspective. We live in a world both beautiful and ugly, both plentiful and desolate, both safe and dangerous. We turn on the news filled with stories about natural disasters, deadly diseases, political expediency, human treachery, and horrific suffering – and that’s just before the first commercial break! Occasionally a feel-good story is included – some newscasts are now tacking on such an item to end each broadcast on a positive note – though a whole hour of such things might not win much of an audience share. From afar in the news or even close up in person, we see the depravity of which the human spirit is capable; in the genius of scientists, the creativity of artists, and the compassion of humanitarians, we see the nobility of which the human spirit is capable. Which is the greater truth? Which expression of the human spirit will prevail? I choose nobility.
For reasons that I do not understand, not everyone seems to share my longing for a world in which safety and sufficiency and peace are the norm for everyone, for mutual respect and even curiosity to unite rather than divide people across the enriching diversities in our world, for gentle laughter to be the background music of our daily living, for tears to flow because our humanity is touched not violated, for the land to be treasured not exploited, and for Mystery to give depth and wonder to each moment of our living. These are my words to try to give expression to my longing; you might use different words. In brief – beyond detailed descriptions – what I am longing for is a world that simply works consistently well for everyone, including for Earth itself. I am an idealist, I guess. Some might call me by less flattering names. Still, I believe that what is at the heart of my longing is intrinsic to all humanity, even if various circumstances and factors beyond my control or ken have stifled and twisted that longing into apathy, cynicism, private agendas, aggression, or outright barbarity in some.
The story of Jesus sustains my longing, even despite so much evidence that mine is a naive dream. He called his longing “the kingdom of God” (“malkut” in his language) and used many images and stories to try to awaken the imagination of others to wha they knew already resided within them. He modelled the only kind of leadership that could bring about such a realm: integrity; humility; servanthood; non-violence; compassion for outsiders; love extended to all, even to perceived enemies; a spirit of grace, mercy, and forgiveness to prevail over judgement and retribution – all emanating from his intimacy with the one he called Abba, whose love is the primal energy of the universe. Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, perhaps; but also fierce and fearless in standing up to the prevailing powers and refusing to stoop to their level and methods, knowing that the moment he flinched in the slightest, he would be fatally compromised and his cause doomed to failure. Well, he was killed to silence him, an apparent failure. Yet, did he fail? Was he silenced? Whether or not he actually rose from the dead, the longing he awakened in the human soul, the vision he planted in the human imagination, and the ethic he inspired in the human character all live on after him, to pulsate and echo down through the generations and centuries, and to be realized through others who have been caught by the vision and example. My physician acquaintance is one testament to that, whatever convictions he may espouse. What Jesus released into the world will never die and will prevail. This is my conviction. This is resurrection.
This sculpture, “The Servant Christ” by Jimilu Mason, is erected in front of Christ House, in the Adams-Morgan District of Washington, DC. Christ House is a hospital for homeless people needing holistic support in their recovery beyond just their initial treatment. It was founded by a small group associated with the Church of the Saviour, one of whom is the physician I alluded to above.
Peace to you Ted Hicks
