Sermon for the Sixth Sunday of Easter - Jane Maycock

There is a well-known Easter hymn which I’m sure will be familiar to some of you, which begins by proclaiming:

This joyful Eastertide, 

away with sin and sorrow!

My Love, the Crucified, 

has sprung to life this morrow:

We are still in the joy of Eastertide! Why then, I found myself wondering, have we been hearing today about grief and trouble and anxiety?

Today’s readings take us to the limits of things, to the uncomfortable places where we would rather not be. We are offered three scenes:

• First, the writer of Psalm 73 looks out at the world around and speaks of a grieved heart, of a sense of being foolish and ignorant, of weakness of heart and body.

• Secondly there is Job, who has experienced great suffering. He speaks of human frailty, describing a person as “few of days and full of trouble”, of withering away, fleeing like a shadow, of death being all that lies ahead.

• And then there is the question that underlies Paul’s comments in his letter to the Christians in Thessalonica. Clearly, they are anxious: what about the people who have already died before Jesus has come again? Will they be excluded from the life to come? Is it too late for them?

Where is the joy and hope of Easter here?

If we read the earlier verses of the psalm we find out what it is that is causing such grief. The writer looks at the world around and sees the prosperity of people who are arrogant, wicked, proud, malicious to others and focused wholly on what is worldly. Not only that but the writer sees the people who have tried to be faithful to God giving up – they say that all they have experienced is hardship on a daily basis.

The writer of the Psalm feels deeply weary in trying to make sense of this, but they go into the sanctuary of God, to think. Here, in a place where the focus is on God and on God’s place in human life, the balance shifts. The writer can see that these wicked, arrogant and worldly people are standing in slippery places and are destined for ruin, destruction, terrors and are no more substantial than a dream.

It is all this that leads to the statement, “thus my heart was grieved”.

It may have been written over 2 1/2 thousand years ago, but it is as relevant today in a world where there is such heartbreaking contrast between the wealth of individuals or global corporations and the poverty that is not only in distant nations but on our own doorstep; and where the motivations of those with wealth and power and influence can seem hard to comprehend. Our hearts have good cause to be grieved at the injustices we see all around us.

Our second scene brings us to Job, a man who is suffering deeply and cares equally deeply about justice. He will not accept the suggestions of his friends that the great troubles that have come upon him are his own fault. Yet he struggles to find hope. He can see it in the natural world, in the way a tree cut down will sprout again and life is renewed. But when he looks to human life, he sees no such hope; only the prospect of a place in Sheol, the shadowy world of the dead.

For the writer of the psalm and for Job, holding fast to faith in God is not easy. It is not easy when they look out at the world around them and see that both the actions of people and their words run counter to their understanding of what it means to live as a child of God. The questions they ask are the questions we continue to ask: Why is it that there is such injustice in the world? Why is it that bad things happen to good people?– questions that come from personal experience and are deeply felt. 

Yet it is deep within that personal experience that God is found. The writer of the psalm speaks of a grieved heart and a sense of both heart and flesh failing, yet can still say, “God is the strength of my heart.” Here is hope. There is a sense of partnership: going to the sanctuary, allowing God space in the heart leads to trust in the Lord and the ability to speak of God to the world around. Even Job has not given up on God despite all that has happened to him. He expresses his longing for God and his conviction that justice will be done — even if it is justice beyond death; he knows that he will see God on his side. Again, here is an expression of hope in the face of great grief and suffering.

So what about our third scene, the Christians in Thessalonica? This is probably the earliest writing in the New Testament, a letter thought to have been written barely 20 years after the death and resurrection of Jesus. The Christians in Thessalonica are from a variety of religious and ethnic backgrounds, brought together by their understanding that in Jesus God has shown his love for the world, a love that is far greater than the boundaries of human life. In the letter we can hear Paul’s love for them and his encouragement, and through his words we get a sense of the issues that faced them. They are anxious:  Paul writes that he does not want them to grieve “as others do who have no hope.” Underlying Paul’s words is an anxiety expressed by these new Christians about what happens to them and their loved ones when they die. Paul uses vivid language and imagery in his response, but with apologies to the apostle, I am going to sum it up in one word, and that word is ‘gathered’. It is a word that was used frequently by my liturgy tutor, Michael Vasey. He spoke not of people having died, but of having been ‘gathered’. This seems a very appropriate one-word summary of what Paul is describing here. Paul knows that the death and resurrection of Jesus has made a difference — not just to those who will be alive when he comes again but to all who have faith in him. He knows what Job longs for, that God will gather up all his children to be with him forever.

There will be times when we find ourselves in uncomfortable places, taken to the limits of what we think we can manage or understand. What matters is anchoring ourselves in the hope that comes from God, in opening our hearts, inviting God in and allowing ourselves to be strengthened by him. 

The hymn I quoted at the beginning expresses the exuberant joy of Easter. We don’t always have to feel this in order for it to be true, for it is always true; and as I think each of these scenes have shown us, our life both in the present and the future, is with God. This indeed is ground for hope, for there is always hope.

Let us pray:

Almighty God,

you can have made us for yourself,

and our hearts are restless till they find their rest in you:

pour your love into our hearts and draw us to yourself,

and so bring us at last to your heavenly city

where we shall see you face to face;

through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,

who is alive and reigns with you,

in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

one God, now and for ever.

(St. Augustine)