Sermon – An Idle Tale Rev. Sandy Lacey April 20, 2025 (Easter Sunday)
When I was 21 and in my last year as a student at Florida State University, I lost my father. He died suddenly without warning and left me to navigate his loss as best I could. I remember one night in particular in which I was home in central Florida while my older siblings and my mother were still in Indiana after the second round of wakes and funerals there. I have never felt so alone and overwhelmed, with the weight of the world on my shoulders as I did that night. And if someone would have interrupted me in my desperation/isolation with words that “everything would be all right,” I am really not sure how I would have responded. The weight and heaviness of grief was compounded by the worry that nothing would ever be all right again. I had been raised in the faith and I knew Jesus, but I could not sense God’s presence at all. Everything I had learned in the faith seemed to be an idle tale and I was convinced that I had been abandoned. The women in today’s passage were enveloped in grief as they walked to the tomb that morning to prepare Jesus’ dead body for final burial. I suspect they probably were discussing how they were going to get the soldiers to move the large stone so they could do their very difficult, but loving task, of washing the body and putting burial spices on him. But the morning did not go as they planned. When they arrived, the stone was already moved, and there was no body inside the tomb. Even more shocking, two men in dazzling white garments surprised them and asked them a very piercing question, “why do you look for the living among the dead?” The women were challenged, encouraged to look beyond their shock, distress, and grief to remember – remember who Jesus was, and remember what he had told them. Their imaginations for a new day needed to be stirred. As they began to remember and imagine a new day, their perplexity, their disorientation and worry began to dissipate. Excitement, wonder, and a sudden desire to spread the good news seized them and replaced the heaviness of their loss. So, this is great news so far, right? The women started their day out with a heaviness that only one who has experienced grief can know. Then everything changed – their grief was lifted. They were reminded of what Jesus had told them. They had unexpected hope for that day and for future days. They could imagine a new day filled with life and not death. We learn that they ran with their newfound hope to tell the others. And how was the news received? The hiding, fearful disciples figuratively roll their eyes and say something akin to, “oh, here we go again – the women are coming up with stories again. Let’s humor them so they’ll leave us alone – an idle tale – bless their hearts.” Grief, fear, and anxiety will do that. It will make you miss big and small miracles that are right in front of you. I’ve been thinking this week about what is an “idle tale” and how it might be different from a lie. I wonder if maybe a lie is a little more sinister in nature, maybe with an intention to do you (or someone else) harm, or maybe to build yourself up at the expense of someone else. One of my pet peeves/one thing that gets my blood boiling every time is someone who lies to me. But an “idle tale” may be more subtle with no harm intended. What do you think? Are they the same or is an “idle tale” a little more nuanced? It is an interesting story, this story of the resurrection. Jesus’ story has inspired the most wonderful stories, the best music, peace and goodwill beyond measure. I decided this week I would hear the story told in different ways, through musicals. I watched Godspell, Jesus Christ Superstar, and my favorite, The Cotton Patch Gospel. I wanted to hear the story in fresh ways, and I have gotta say that it was wonderful. Sometimes when we are struggling with an idea or a text, we just need a different perspective. I imagine that for some of us today the resurrection does represent an “idle tale.” We cannot see beyond our grief, our worry, our sheer exhaustion in our day-to-day lives to imagine a different story, a different way of life. We want something easily seen and easily proven. I cannot prove the resurrection happened. I cannot provide for you a literal or figurative “Shroud of Turin” with Jesus’ signature on it that proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jesus existed and was brought back to life. What I can do, however, is encourage your imagination. All good and great changes to our lives begin with imagination. If you and your partner can imagine a marriage that is life-giving, full of joy, and is mutually fulfilling; then you just might work toward making it so. If you can imagine that there is a larger order to things than what you can easily see on the surface; then you might realize that you are part of this wonderful, cosmic order, that you are loved by God, and that you have purpose. It might just change your life. If you can imagine that an imperfect community of faith is a place where you can be nurtured, held accountable, and given wings; then you might find a niche that allows you to be you and serve your Creator at the same time. Imagination and memory are powerful and wonderful things that can move you from a life that is sucking all the energy out of you to one that inspires and energizes you. Life is too short, or as some would say, too long to live your life without joy. There is a choice. We can stand in line with the disciples and shake our heads, saying, “this is a lot of hooey, an idle tale.” Grief, loss, exhaustion made them, and can make us, forgetful and skeptical of anything that cannot be easily proven. All it takes is real stress from a frenetic weekly pace, real grief from the many losses we encounter in life, worry over what is happening in our nation around us. You add a skeptical faith at best and a lack of regular connection to anything that is sacred or holy – and you have a recipe for hanging out in empty tombs, looking for the living among the dead. So, what are we to do? For those of you who have a memory of hearing the Biblical stories, of feeling the warmth of connection, and a desire to move out of yourself to care for others; you already know part of the answer deep inside. Like the women at the tomb, you simply need to be reminded of God’s love and grace that is all in all, bigger than anything we can imagine, and waiting, waiting, to welcome you home and add light/purpose once again to your journey through life. It’s why we gather for worship each week – to remind us of who we are and whose we are, and to inspire us to move outside of ourselves to connect with others. Because friends, life can change in a moment, and we need the grounding that faith brings. I know what some of you are thinking. You are hearing the loud voices of those Christians among us who talk love but demonstrate hate. And yes, we followers of Christ have certainly given you lots of material over the years with which to roll your eyes and question whether any follower of Christ would have your back in a crisis. The truth is that we are a mixed bag, but there is no substitute for finding that community of faith that nourishes you and gives you strength for the journey. I submit that finding one will help you with your imagination in that you will be able to imagine new possibilities and new life when crises happen. One of the interesting things about today’s text is that when the women were confronted by the messengers in the empty tomb, not only was their memory and imagination restored; they were also compelled to leave the tomb and tell others. They could not keep it to themselves. And the disciples that received the news, well, their grief and sense of hopelessness was showing. Their grief would not allow them to remember what Jesus had told them. Their grief would not allow them to open their eyes, see with their heart, and imagine a new possibility. Their grief and fear almost killed their memory and their imagination. The news was an idle tale to them, one worth dismissing immediately. When is the last time you heard something so spectacular, so audacious that you felt the need to immediately dismiss it as an idle tale? In the midst of my overwhelming anxiety and grief at the age of 21 and while I was alone in my home, a voice came to me and said, “Sandy, you feel alone right now, but get back among my people, and you will be reminded that you are never alone.” It allowed me to take a breath and fortunately, I found it to be true. There was one disciple on that day who listened to the women. He was one who had much to grieve, for he had failed Jesus miserably – one who just had to make sure, one who had to test the waters, one who was willing to consider that he did not know all the answers, one who was just desperate enough – to peer into a tomb, just on the off-chance . . . the possibility. . . that this was not an idle tale after all. And because Peter was hopeful enough, desperate enough to imagine the possibility; God amazed him by lifting his grief and showing him life beyond a tomb. How about you? Are you open to such a possibility?
When I was 21 and in my last year as a student at Florida State University, I lost my father. He died suddenly without warning and left me to navigate his loss as best I could. I remember one night in particular in which I was home in central Florida while my older siblings and my mother were still in Indiana after the second round of wakes and funerals there. I have never felt so alone and overwhelmed, with the weight of the world on my shoulders as I did that night. And if someone would have interrupted me in my desperation/isolation with words that “everything would be all right,” I am really not sure how I would have responded. The weight and heaviness of grief was compounded by the worry that nothing would ever be all right again. I had been raised in the faith and I knew Jesus, but I could not sense God’s presence at all. Everything I had learned in the faith seemed to be an idle tale and I was convinced that I had been abandoned. The women in today’s passage were enveloped in grief as they walked to the tomb that morning to prepare Jesus’ dead body for final burial. I suspect they probably were discussing how they were going to get the soldiers to move the large stone so they could do their very difficult, but loving task, of washing the body and putting burial spices on him. But the morning did not go as they planned. When they arrived, the stone was already moved, and there was no body inside the tomb. Even more shocking, two men in dazzling white garments surprised them and asked them a very piercing question, “why do you look for the living among the dead?” The women were challenged, encouraged to look beyond their shock, distress, and grief to remember – remember who Jesus was, and remember what he had told them. Their imaginations for a new day needed to be stirred. As they began to remember and imagine a new day, their perplexity, their disorientation and worry began to dissipate. Excitement, wonder, and a sudden desire to spread the good news seized them and replaced the heaviness of their loss. So, this is great news so far, right? The women started their day out with a heaviness that only one who has experienced grief can know. Then everything changed – their grief was lifted. They were reminded of what Jesus had told them. They had unexpected hope for that day and for future days. They could imagine a new day filled with life and not death. We learn that they ran with their newfound hope to tell the others. And how was the news received? The hiding, fearful disciples figuratively roll their eyes and say something akin to, “oh, here we go again – the women are coming up with stories again. Let’s humor them so they’ll leave us alone – an idle tale – bless their hearts.” Grief, fear, and anxiety will do that. It will make you miss big and small miracles that are right in front of you. I’ve been thinking this week about what is an “idle tale” and how it might be different from a lie. I wonder if maybe a lie is a little more sinister in nature, maybe with an intention to do you (or someone else) harm, or maybe to build yourself up at the expense of someone else. One of my pet peeves/one thing that gets my blood boiling every time is someone who lies to me. But an “idle tale” may be more subtle with no harm intended. What do you think? Are they the same or is an “idle tale” a little more nuanced? It is an interesting story, this story of the resurrection. Jesus’ story has inspired the most wonderful stories, the best music, peace and goodwill beyond measure. I decided this week I would hear the story told in different ways, through musicals. I watched Godspell, Jesus Christ Superstar, and my favorite, The Cotton Patch Gospel. I wanted to hear the story in fresh ways, and I have gotta say that it was wonderful. Sometimes when we are struggling with an idea or a text, we just need a different perspective. I imagine that for some of us today the resurrection does represent an “idle tale.” We cannot see beyond our grief, our worry, our sheer exhaustion in our day-to-day lives to imagine a different story, a different way of life. We want something easily seen and easily proven. I cannot prove the resurrection happened. I cannot provide for you a literal or figurative “Shroud of Turin” with Jesus’ signature on it that proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jesus existed and was brought back to life. What I can do, however, is encourage your imagination. All good and great changes to our lives begin with imagination. If you and your partner can imagine a marriage that is life-giving, full of joy, and is mutually fulfilling; then you just might work toward making it so. If you can imagine that there is a larger order to things than what you can easily see on the surface; then you might realize that you are part of this wonderful, cosmic order, that you are loved by God, and that you have purpose. It might just change your life. If you can imagine that an imperfect community of faith is a place where you can be nurtured, held accountable, and given wings; then you might find a niche that allows you to be you and serve your Creator at the same time. Imagination and memory are powerful and wonderful things that can move you from a life that is sucking all the energy out of you to one that inspires and energizes you. Life is too short, or as some would say, too long to live your life without joy. There is a choice. We can stand in line with the disciples and shake our heads, saying, “this is a lot of hooey, an idle tale.” Grief, loss, exhaustion made them, and can make us, forgetful and skeptical of anything that cannot be easily proven. All it takes is real stress from a frenetic weekly pace, real grief from the many losses we encounter in life, worry over what is happening in our nation around us. You add a skeptical faith at best and a lack of regular connection to anything that is sacred or holy – and you have a recipe for hanging out in empty tombs, looking for the living among the dead. So, what are we to do? For those of you who have a memory of hearing the Biblical stories, of feeling the warmth of connection, and a desire to move out of yourself to care for others; you already know part of the answer deep inside. Like the women at the tomb, you simply need to be reminded of God’s love and grace that is all in all, bigger than anything we can imagine, and waiting, waiting, to welcome you home and add light/purpose once again to your journey through life. It’s why we gather for worship each week – to remind us of who we are and whose we are, and to inspire us to move outside of ourselves to connect with others. Because friends, life can change in a moment, and we need the grounding that faith brings. I know what some of you are thinking. You are hearing the loud voices of those Christians among us who talk love but demonstrate hate. And yes, we followers of Christ have certainly given you lots of material over the years with which to roll your eyes and question whether any follower of Christ would have your back in a crisis. The truth is that we are a mixed bag, but there is no substitute for finding that community of faith that nourishes you and gives you strength for the journey. I submit that finding one will help you with your imagination in that you will be able to imagine new possibilities and new life when crises happen. One of the interesting things about today’s text is that when the women were confronted by the messengers in the empty tomb, not only was their memory and imagination restored; they were also compelled to leave the tomb and tell others. They could not keep it to themselves. And the disciples that received the news, well, their grief and sense of hopelessness was showing. Their grief would not allow them to remember what Jesus had told them. Their grief would not allow them to open their eyes, see with their heart, and imagine a new possibility. Their grief and fear almost killed their memory and their imagination. The news was an idle tale to them, one worth dismissing immediately. When is the last time you heard something so spectacular, so audacious that you felt the need to immediately dismiss it as an idle tale? In the midst of my overwhelming anxiety and grief at the age of 21 and while I was alone in my home, a voice came to me and said, “Sandy, you feel alone right now, but get back among my people, and you will be reminded that you are never alone.” It allowed me to take a breath and fortunately, I found it to be true. There was one disciple on that day who listened to the women. He was one who had much to grieve, for he had failed Jesus miserably – one who just had to make sure, one who had to test the waters, one who was willing to consider that he did not know all the answers, one who was just desperate enough – to peer into a tomb, just on the off-chance . . . the possibility. . . that this was not an idle tale after all. And because Peter was hopeful enough, desperate enough to imagine the possibility; God amazed him by lifting his grief and showing him life beyond a tomb. How about you? Are you open to such a possibility?