CHRIST HAS DIED. CHRIST IS RISEN. CHRIST WILL COME AGAIN. CHRIST HAS DIED. CHRIST HAS RISEN. CHRIST WILL COME AGAIN. Week after week, week after week, we say those three sentences aloud in our Eucharistic liturgy. Our Book of Common Prayer calls them “the mystery of faith.” In liturgical language they are called the “memorial acclamation” and they have been part of the Christian ritual of Holy Communion since earliest times. Next week, when we change to Eucharistic Prayer B, our memorial acclamation’s words will change slightly. Starting next Sunday and through Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany, we will say “We remember his death, we proclaim his resurrection, we await his coming in glory.” We change the particular words, but the meaning remains the same. In the past Christ was crucified; in the present Christ when I graduated from seminary and was otr is alive; in the future Christ will come again. But, do we believe it? What does it mean to proclaim “Christ will come again”?
My first boss when I graduated from seminary and was ordained, was a wise old rector named Jim Green. Jim used to tell the story of going to Parents Weekend at his eldest daughter’s college her first year. His daughter Beth thought it would be a nice thing to invite her freshman religion professor to have dinner with her parents. Jim says he was trying to make the younger professor feel at ease, so he asked him about his freshman survey New Testament course, saying “I guess you start with the Gospel of Mark since that’s the shortest Gospel and most people think the easiest to understand.” To Jim’s surprise the young teacher replied, “Oh, No. I start with the Book of Revelation. From the get-go I want these kids to understand there is NOTHING easy-to-understand about scripture.
Which, of course, brings us to today’s first reading from Revelation.
“Grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come….” It’s an announcement that with the Lord God there is always more to come. “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again” repeats that promise and that hope. Christ reigns now, even though the world’s circumstances may suggest otherwise. But Revelation’s theology of “more” tells us that we can count on additional transformation in the future. “I am the Alpha and the Omega, says the Lord God, who is, and was, and who is to come….”
The important question is not whether or not you and I take the memorial acclamation literally or figuratively, whether we believe the promise fully, maybe a little, or not at all, the challenge for us is how to live now as those who know they are liberated from sin by Christ’s death, are loved by the Risen Christ in the present, and are yet still anticipating that which is to come.
“Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.” What does it mean to be a faithful witness now? What does it mean to be a faithful witness in our time, when there is alarming evidence of the destructive impact of human behavior on God’s creation? What does it mean to be a faithful witness at a time of growing disparities of wealth and income? Those are serious questions worthy of our attention. How do I behave? How do we behave? How does the Episcopal Church behave? How does the interfaith community behave?
There was once an old stone monastery tucked away in the middle of a picturesque forest. For many years people would make the significant detour required to seek out this monastery. The peaceful spirit of the place was healing for the soul.
In recent years, however, fewer and fewer people were making their way to the monastery. The monks had grown jealous and petty in their relationships with one another and the animosity was felt by those who visited.
The Abbot of the monastery was distressed by what was happening, and poured out his heart to his good friend Jeremiah. Jeremiah was a wise old Jewish rabbi. Having heard the Abbot’s tale of woe he asked if he could offer a suggestion. “Please do” responded the Abbot. “Anything you can offer.”
Jeremiah said that he had received an important vision and the vision was this: the messiah was among the ranks of the monks. The Abbot was flabbergasted. One among his own was the Messiah! Who could it be? He knew it wasn’t himself, but who? He raced back to the monastery and shared this exciting news with his fellow monks.
The monks grew silent as they looked into each other’s faces. Was this one the Messiah?
From that day on the mood in the monastery changed. Joseph and Ivan starting talking again, neither wanting to be guilty of slighting the Messiah. Pierre and Nathan left behind their frosty anger and sought out each other’s forgiveness. The monks began serving each other, looking out for opportunities to assist, seeking healing and forgiveness where offence had been given.
As one traveler, then another, found their way to the monastery word soon spread about the remarkable spirit of the place. People once again took the journey to the monastery and found themselves renewed and transformed. All because those monks knew the Messiah was among them.
Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. Or, maybe, he already has; maybe he already has and is here among us. Amen.