Flying Theology

Luke 24:1-10

Antioch Christian Fellowship

April 8, 2007

Easter Day

One day my grandson was spending the day with me.  He was a little over two years old and I thought I had adequately prepared the house so that only those things he should touch were within his reach.  While I was in the kitchen, I heard a loud crash in the living room and tiny feet running to find me.  J. D. ran into the kitchen and said in a very excited, anxious voice, “Grandmama, Grandmama, that bird doesn’t fly.”

I knew what had happened.  The beautifully painted blue bird that my brother had given me for Christmas was no more.  I had put it on a high shelf, but not high enough.  Little hands saw the bird and reached to make it fly.  I can follow my grandson’s logic: it looked like a bird, birds fly; therefore, this bird flies, except that it wasn’t flying and he wanted to help it along.  But we know that even though it looked really good, this bird was never designed to fly and when I walked into the living room, there it was, in unrecognizable pieces all over the floor.

In the gospel reading for today, the women who come to the tomb to prepare Jesus’ body, are “at a loss, bewildered, disturbed.”  Three days before they saw a dead body and today, they  expected to see the same dead body.  That is what dead bodies do: they stay dead. 

As bewildered as the women are, the angels that meet them there seem even more so, as they say to them, “Don’t you remember how He told you that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified and on the third day rise again. (Luke 9:22) Why do you look for the living among the dead?  He is not here, but has been raised!” 

It happened just the way Jesus said it would.  We are told that “then the women remembered” Jesus’ words.  But only after the crash, only after they heard the sound of their theology plunging to the ground.  Dead bodies don’t stay dead anymore.  The women run back to the apostles, tell them this great news, and the apostles call them nonsensical, and they would not believe them.  Foolish women will believe anything.  But they, these wise apostles, still have their lifeless china bird on the shelf, believing that when they need it, it will fly.

Except for Peter. In verse 12, when Peter hears the report of the women, we read, “. . . Peter got up and ran to the tomb.”  Why Peter?  Of all the apostles’ actions during the trial, persecution and crucifixion of Jesus, only Peter’s failures are noted forever in Holy Scripture.  Of all those who had followed Jesus, we know clearly and specifically that Peter denied vehemently, to everyone who asked, ever knowing Him.  And when the cock crowed that day, Peter remembered the word of the Lord for him, “Before a rooster crows today, you will deny me three times.”  Of all the apostles, we only know that Peter was stricken with the bitter grief of knowing the depth of his failure to God Almighty himself.  Peter wept, not over the death of his Lord, but over his own death.  Peter recognized that his natural, human behavior leads to a life in unrecognizable pieces all over the floor.  Peter’s last act during the life of Jesus was to fail him.  It is no wonder that he so desperately hoped that what these foolish women said was true, because, perhaps, if Jesus rose, Peter could too.

Peter needed a theology that would fly.  He needed to be like the Israelites of old and “carried on eagles wings” (Exodus 19:4) out of the bondage of his weakness, his fear and his failures.  He needed someone to save him from his “body of death.” (Romans 7:24) That perfect God on the shelf, the one that looks good, so perfect, simply couldn’t help him.  He needed the God who was drug through the dust of Palestine to die so that he could live.

It is unfortunate that it takes such desperate measure for us to recognize how much we need a theology that will fly.  There is only one belief that can help Peter now:  God knows him so well that he knows his need even before he does.  The Dali Lama has no words of comfort for Peter:  “Seek those actions that lead to happiness and avoid those which lead to suffering.”  If only he could.  The Christian remembers that Isaiah speaks of the way to happiness (Isaiah 52:7) “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.”” 

Confucius’ words cannot help him:  “Forget injuries, never forget kindness.”  If only he could.  How can Peter forget the injuries that he has inflicted on God himself?  When David murders Uriah so that he can marry his wife Bathsheba, he laments to God in Psalm 51:3-4, “For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me.  ⁴ Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you may be justified in your words and blameless in your judgment.”  Both David and Peter found Confucius words naïve -  how could they so easily forget the injury that they inflicted on the One who had showered them with the kindness of heaven?

Even the words of the Hindu faith cannot help him, “seek knowledge of your true self.”  That’s the problem.  The knowledge of his true self has led Peter to the painful realization of his great need.  He didn’t mean to: if he could have helped himself, don’t you think he would have spoken for Jesus.  Finding his true self is only depressing for Peter.  He sees his need for someone, something outside himself to save him.  He needs a theology that can fly when the weather is bad so he runs to Jesus’ tomb to find him.

We can study for years.  We can know all of Holy Scripture by heart.  From that we can develop a beautiful, perfect theology that when the weather goes south, just won’t fly.  Christianity is need-based.  Christianity is not a religion for the wealthy nor is it for the poor.  It is not a religion for intellectuals nor is it for the anti-intellectual.  It is not a religion for the powerful nor is it for the weak.  Christianity is the religion for those who are dying and don’t want to.  Jesus tells us who he came for in Mark chapter 2: “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”  Christianity transcends all social boundaries established by human beings and cuts through to who we are at our very core:  in need of deliverance; in need of saving from this body of death. (Romans 7:24)

A china bird doesn’t fly because it wasn’t designed to fly.  That china bird is like so many philosophies and theologies that look really good, and when the weather is good, if we are honest, that china bird really looks better than the real thing.  It had no mites.  It had never been in a fight over food or shelter.  It had never experienced any kind of unpleasantness.  It had never experienced anything at all.  It was not a living theology that can carry us with eagles’ wings to the place where we belong.  We need a theology that will carry us to the tomb of Jesus.  We need a theology that will carry us above the whirlwinds of trouble of this life; a theology where the power comes from a source outside ourselves. Otherwise, the knowledge of our failures will crush us.

We need a God who is who we cannot be.  We need a God who can make us into who He intended.  The theology that will fly is simple.  Simple enough for a child.  It is only and purely about faith.  Faith is not belief in ourselves and who are or even who we can become.  Faith is belief in the one who is all goodness and holiness so that we can trust in him and not be entrapped by who we are.  Faith is the channel through which we receive as our very own His holiness.  Faith is the freedom to acknowledge that our failures, our poverty, our ignorance, our weakness are now His because He freely took them, lifted them from our conscious, and we have traded them for his success, his wealth, his intellect, his power.  God does not even require that we have faith in our own faith.  We do not need great faith, only faith in a great God.  He supplies it all, when we, like Peter, recognize our need for Him and run to seek Him.

We are the recipients of this great covenant that God has given to all his children.  In a true relationship, all things are shared.  Our relationship with Christ gives to us all that Christ owns.  His relationship with us gives to him all that we own.

Is there something, anything that you would like to give to Christ?  It is His.

Is there anything of His that you would like to receive?  It is yours.