An Easter Story Lithograph

An Easter Story Lithograph

rev. 4/16/2017

Alleluia! He is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Happy Easter!

By now, I am sure that you know that the stone got rolled away from the tomb to be the base of the snow man and that the clothes of the angel didn’t just look as white as snow, they were snow, and Jesus saw his shadow this morning so that there will be six more weeks of winter. Oh, yes, there must have been some magic in the old silk hat they found, for when they placed it on his head he began…I’m sorry,…six more weeks of winter? It’s the middle of April! What was I thinking?  At times, I am such a blockhead. I have something much more important to talk about than silly old superstitious nonsense.

I have come to tell you about the joys of being a Christian stone, okay you might call me a rock. My name is Petros, it means rock, because I’m a little dense, hard-hearted you might say—rock, dense, hard, get it?

Now, if you are one of the people in the world who believe in reincarnation, then I might be your worst nightmare because this is where you end up when you haven’t succeeded in any of the other life forms you have known. Of course, if you believe in reincarnation, you already know that the afterlife is a punishment.

Let me tell you a secret. It’s not the case. Today I am here to tell you that I am one of the happiest rocks that has ever rolled down hill because it’s not true.

But before I tell you the news, let me tell you something about life as a rock. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. There are some rocks that are destined to greatness—Michelangelo’s Pieta and David, now there were some rocks stars that really made it. Then, of course, you know about Rushmore, and the problems those rocks have—constant cosmetic surgery; Lord, have mercy. They always have someone working on them. The stories I could tell you and the foundation makeup they use… I’m sorry, I get carried away.

Then there are the finer building stones. Some of them are so good that they get used over and over again. Some of my closest relatives started out in the Roman Coliseum and ended up in St. Peter’s Cathedral.

That’s a funny one, too. Peter is just Petros in another language. So really, it’s St Rock’s Cathedral, made out of stones.


Well, my friends and I thought it was funny.

Then there are the cobblestones. They’re another branch of the family who just lie around in roads, patios, and sidewalks—not great stones, but sometimes helpful. Some of them are tricksters so watch your step.

Me, well, I’m sort of common. Old Granddad Bluff said I’d never amount to much. “Lacks grit and polish,” he said.

I had dreams about greatness at one time, but when the sculptors came, they passed me by. They can be such chiselers you know, always looking for a bargain. When the builders came, they said that I was flawed; rejected again.

I was too big to be a cobblestone, too small to be a monument, too flawed to be much of anything. I was rejected and afraid that, like my dreams, I would be crushed. It is hard enough to grovel, but to be gravel?

Then one day a cryptcarver came along and sized me up, rolled me onto his cart, and carted me to the mausoleum he was building. I was going to be the boundary marker between the living and the dead. On the greatness scale, it’s not so much.

As I said, if you believe in reincarnation, this is about as low as you can go—not really in the world of the living, almost in the world of the dead. I thought, “There are corks that are better off than this.”

It didn’t take long. (At least in daylight rock time, which is an hour faster than standard rock time, so it didn’t seem like it took long.) The day came when they brought a dead man to put into the tomb. Then, they rolled me into place. A notch carved into the ground made it easy to sit there, but because of my flaws, I suppose, people came with clay and pushed it in around the edges. Then a soldier came and pressed the temple seal into the clay in four places.

That night I heard them talking. The dead man was Jesus of Nazareth. Some thought that he was a holy man sent from heaven to save the people from Roman rule, but he was just a man; and the soldiers were there to make sure that riots didn’t break out during the great Sabbath of Passover.
You never know what kinds of crazy things followers of these so-called prophets might do. Some people went so far as to say that he was the son of God. As if.

And then, it started. I thought it was a sigh at first and then a burst of air. It pushed hard against the sealed edges of the hole I was covering. It seemed as if the inside space was too big and had to come out. Like a giant sneeze, that came from somewhere deep inside the earth this breath of…of life came bursting out around me. Then everything started to happen at once.

Lightening started flashing, the earth started shaking, the soldiers cried for mercy and fell down on the ground; the clay seals broke apart, and I was rolling. I can tell you. There was a whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on. And then, and then, Jesus, the dead man, walked out of the tomb and into my life; and this other person came and sat on me.

Two women came, and the person talked with them. “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’”


It was the strangest thing. I know that rocks don’t look very animated, but that day I was so proud to be Petros, the rolling stone, the rock, with all of my imperfections. In spite of the fact that I had been turned down for almost every job of any greatness, I, Petros, was the first to witness the amazing resurrection breath of life.


It was not reincarnation. Jesus did not come out as something less than he had been before, instead he seemed quite the same but somehow more. This rising from the dead was not a punishment to walk the earth, to learn a lesson, or to become one with the universe. I tell you Jesus walked out of the tomb like a man with a mission. There was no compromise in what he did or said.

“Hello!” he said, and the women came to him, bowed down to the ground, took hold of his feet, and kissed them. You could tell that they were scared. It’s not everyday that you see and hear and touch someone who has been raised from the dead. As I said, there was a whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on.

And Jesus said to them, “Don’t be afraid; get up, go and tell the others to go to Galilee; there they will see me.” And he left.

Over the centuries, I have heard the stories of Jesus’ disciples, how they went to Galilee, told the resurrection story to the world, and how they baptized the people of the world into the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, but, more than that, I need to tell you that the world was changed that day.

I, Petros, the rock, sealed and settled at the tomb, could not stand in way of the resurrection. I was rolled away for new life to enter the world, and I was changed. My ordinary, flawed self became the cornerstone of the church. God used me to be a symbol of the resurrection.

Each Easter I am used again as the foundation stone to build faith. I roll away with joy. With me, you see God’s anointed son, Jesus Christ, walk from death to live with us in ministry—leading and calling us in love; to join, as servants of all, to shake the powers of the world, to be living stones.

All of us can be a little hard-hearted at times, but do we want to be stones, stuck and sealed over death, or stones rolled away so that others might see and know the promise and hope of life?

Alleluia! Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

New Salvation Song Matthew 28:1-10

Sue and I are not parents, but we are proud to be Aunt and Uncle. My sister has five girls, the last two were twins.


When the twins were little, and Sue and I stopped in to visit, we could always count on some quiet time with the girls. We might be sitting on the back porch or in the family room when the twins would suddenly appear and ask if they could sing for us. It was fun. Sue and I always felt honored that they would want to sing for us. But what made these impromptu performances really memorable for me was how the girls picked their song list.


Amanda would look at Jennifer, or maybe it was Jennifer who looked at Amanda and say. Let’s sing the new song we learned.


“Which one?”
“You know.”
“Okay, you start.”
“I don’t remember how it goes,” one would say.
“Me either.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Oh, yeah,” the other would say.


And then they’d start singing.


What really amazed me about these performances was that each of the girls seemed to know half the lines, but not all of them. First one would sing and then the other would sing. By the end of each line, both girls would be singing but, it seemed that the first few words of each line were only known by one.


Sometimes they would stop and correct one another.

“No, that’s not right. It’s this way.”
“Oh, yeah,” the other would say, and then they would start again.


It was mind boggling to witness and sometimes really funny. Individually neither one could have entertained us with those songs, nor could either one have been as entertaining, but as a team, they could sing for quite a long time.

In some ways, our lives in Christ are like those two little girls singing their hearts out. We have the desire to sing, and the world needs to hear us sing, but we don’t always know how to get started. We need a partner who knows how to get us started. We turn to the people around us and say, “Let’s sing that new song we learned; you know, the song of salvation. You start.” But the person we turn to is not always confident with the words either.


Sometimes we think that singing the song by ourselves is the way to go, but then things get really confused—we tend to forget the words of salvation and sing about ourselves instead. In those times, we need to be stopped, receive correction from the choir, and start again. Sometimes we have to remember that the song is something that we have learned from someone else. That person thought the song was important enough to teach us, and, if we think the song is important, the song needs to be shared with people we know and love. (When we can sing for our families, we learn how to sing for the enjoyment of others.)


It is important to remember that this joyful singing is not necessarily something that we start out doing well. We may start by only being able to join in by the end of the line. We won’t always know the beginning. Oh yes, some of us might be natural soloists, but most of us find that we sound much better when we sing as a choir—in the embrace of friends who can cover for us when we make mistakes, or remind us of the words when we forget the song. Sometimes they can even teach us new melodies to old words. "Let’s sing the song of salvation to this tune. You start."


Today, with the two Marys we come to the tomb expecting the same old, same old. And then we feel the earth quake. Our world is shaken up by war and prejudice and poverty. We don’t have the same confidence in the world that we had a few years ago. We’re not even sure that we have the same security in the church that we once had. Our very existence in Rural America is challenged. There is a kind of despair in our old song, as we come to the tomb, and we like to sing our same old songs. They’re familiar and have a kind of comfortable security about them, but then we discover the open tomb and the words of our song begin changing.


Like the Marys, we are surprised to see that there’s a messenger sitting on a rock by the tomb teaching us the new salvation song with new words: no longer can despair and death be the statements of who we are. We learn that the old ways may not be the ways of the future but they can inform the ways of the future. “He is not here; he has been raised from the dead as he said.” The words of the past have given us a new way to sing the Jesus song. The song is not only about a wonderful man who had compassion for the less fortunate of the world, it is a song that proclaims God’s love for the world, a love so strong that Jesus’ death on the cross becomes the first note of our salvation song. “Father, forgive them.”


It is no longer a song that can be held by a few disciples, it is a song that must be sung to the world. It must be taught to the world. It must be shared with others in the way we live. It is extravagant and bold because God has been extravagant and bold for us first.


Listen, the song is clear and beautiful; it has a lilting melody that brings hope and joy to those who hear it. Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified.  He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said he would be. Go quickly; sing this song first to his disciples. Here are the words, "Jesus has been raised from the dead! Indeed, he is going ahead of you to Galilee, to Brooklyn, to Brodhead, Orfordville, Attica, Magnolia, Monroe, Evansville, Janesville, New Glarus, Belleville, Oregon, and beyond; there you will see Christ in the people you meet and you will learn more new words to the salvation song." This is God’s song for you.


Today, on this day of resurrection, we learn that there is a song for us and that there is someone who will stand with us before the world to sing. Today we learn that more than knowing all of the words to the song, it is just important to sing the salvation song even if we are not sure of the words. We learn that we should sing the song for unsuspecting audiences and in doing this we will learn to sing the song with confidence; we will learn to sing in ways that encourage other to join us in our merry making. So, raise your tambourines high and get the rhythm going. For the dance is about to begin.


Yes, we come today saying, “Let’s sing a song—that new song we just learned—the one about God’s victory over death. We don’t know the beginning; so, Jesus, you start.”


The amazing thing is that Jesus does start the song for us. It is a song of sadness, "Christ has died". It’s a song of joy, “Christ is risen.” It’s a song of hope, “Christ will come again.” So, let us join the singing as we learn our song—the song that Jesus gave us—the song of our salvation.


Now have you got it. The words are really easy to learn and it has a good beat that’s easy to dance to. You start.


Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia, alleluia!