Sermon for Zion Presbyterian Church, May 2, 2010

Scripture: 1 Corinthians 15:35-58

Sermon Title: We Shall Be Changed

 

1 Corinthians 15:35-44; 50-58

      Some of you have asked, "How will the dead be raised to life? What kind of bodies will they have?" Don't be foolish. A seed must die before it can sprout from the ground. Wheat seeds and all other seeds look different from the sprouts that come up. This is because God gives everything the kind of body he wants it to have. People, animals, birds, and fish are each made of flesh, but none of them are alike. Everything in the heavens has a body, and so does everything on earth. But each one is very different from all the others. The sun isn't like the moon, the moon isn't like the stars, and each star is different.

    That's how it will be when our bodies are raised to life. These bodies will die, but the bodies that are raised will live forever. These ugly and weak bodies will become beautiful and strong. As surely as there are physical bodies, there are spiritual bodies. And our physical bodies will be changed into spiritual bodies.

     My friends, I want you to know that our bodies of flesh and blood will decay. This means that they cannot share in God's kingdom, which lasts forever. I will explain a mystery to you. Not every one of us will die, but we will all be changed. It will happen suddenly, quicker than the blink of an eye. At the sound of the last trumpet the dead will be raised. We will all be changed, so that we will never die again. Our dead and decaying bodies will be changed into bodies that won't die or decay. The bodies we now have are weak and can die. But they will be changed into bodies that are eternal. Then the Scriptures will come true, "Death has lost the battle!  Where is its victory? Where is its sting?"  Sin is what gives death its sting, and the Law is the power behind sin. But thank God for letting our Lord Jesus Christ give us the victory!

    My dear friends, stand firm and don't be shaken. Always keep busy working for the Lord. You know that everything you do for him is worthwhile.

 

          The writers of the Gospels were good, honest men.  Matthew, Mark, Luke and John were seemingly incapable of recounting the events of Jesus’ life and death and resurrection with anything other than the truth, no matter how uncomfortable or embarrassing or awkward that truth might be.  Sometimes, though, I wish they would have gotten together and agreed to change a few things, just to make it easier on us who read their accounts so many years later. 

 

          The Resurrection, for example. I like to think I would have done a better job of recording what went on, that chaotic morning of long ago.  The best example is Mark, of course, who doesn’t really tell us much at all, just that the women went to the tomb only to find it empty, the stone rolled away, and an angel asking them what on earth they were doing here, looking for a dead person, when Jesus has risen from the dead, and is very much alive.  The women run away terrified. 

 

Not a great ending.  Obviously true, though – who would make up an ending like that, with everything left hanging?  Not me.  Not some earlier scribes, either, who were equally dissatisfied, and added a longer ending of their own.  You can read it yourself sometime; it begins in Mark chapter 16 verse 9.  Verses 9 through to the end are sort of a collection taken from the Gospel of Luke, plus something odd about poison and snakes.  None of the best ancient manuscripts of the New Testament include this, and all good Bibles will either leave it out altogether or put in a footnote explaining that the ending is not original.  I’m embarrassed to say that our Pew Bibles leave it in and don’t even footnote it, which is a good indication of why Thomas Nelson Publishers, who financed the New King James translation, lost their shirts on the thing.  But I digress.  It is enough to say that I am sympathetic to the fellows who added a bit to the end, just to round things off.  Even though Mark liked it just the way it was, with the women scared witless by the angel, hotfooting it back to town, to burst in on the incredulous disciples. Who didn’t believe a word.

 

That’s another thing I’d change.  I would have written the Resurrection in such a way that everyone expects it to happen, that none of the friends of Jesus would be surprised by the empty tomb, that when the women come pounding up the stairs and bursting into the room and babbling on about the stone and the angel and the rest, the disciples would say, “Aha, just like Jesus said it would happen.  He’ll probably be by any minute now himself.”  But that’s not how it goes.  No, the disciples are in hiding, doors locked, sheets over the windows, terrified that the cops will be after them next, baffled that the Jesus story should end so brutally, so cruelly, and now what will become of them all? And they think the women are crazy, their story “an idle tale.” And when Jesus does, in fact, show up – locked doors and all – the lot of them are frightened out of their wits, convinced they are seeing a ghost!  That’s not how I’d write it.  I would write it with the disciples calm and cool, confidently expecting the risen Jesus to come marching right in. 

 

As it is, as far as Matthew, Mark, Luke and John are concerned, the only ones not surprised are the angels.  “What on earth are you doing back here at the tomb? Looking for Jesus?  He is Risen, JUST AS HE TOLD YOU. Remember what he said back in Galilee?  ‘The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.’ So go tell the others.” And off go the women, screaming in terror, with the angels looking at one another, shaking their heads.  Don’t tell anyone, but I think angels think that we humans are pretty stupid. 

 

          Which is fair enough.  There is one aspect about the Resurrection, though, which is pretty darn puzzling, and completely unexpected, and not all that easy to explain, and to be perfectly honest with you, I sort of wish the fellows would have left it out of their Gospels.  But they all seem to be stubbornly agreed on the point that when people encounter the Risen Jesus, they don’t seem to recognise him.  Not even his closest friends. Not at first.

 

          In Matthew, we read (28:16-17): “Then the eleven disciples left for Galilee, going to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him—but some of them doubted!”

 

          In Luke, we get quite a bit more.  You’ve got the story of the two fellows on the way to Emmaus, putting seven miles between themselves and trouble.  Jesus somehow joins them on their walk, but, we are told, “they were kept from recognising him.”  The miles pass, the conversations go on, but they still don’t have a clue.  Not until they sit down for supper, and Jesus gives thanks for the bread, breaks it, gives it to them, and then, we’re told, “their eyes were opened and they recognised him.”  The two run back to Jerusalem – or jog, or stumble – it is seven miles – and tell the others.  And then suddenly, this (Luke 24:36-43):

 

 And just as they were telling about it, Jesus himself was suddenly standing there among them. “Peace be with you,” he said.  But the whole group was startled and frightened, thinking they were seeing a ghost!

  “Why are you frightened?” he asked. “Why are your hearts filled with doubt?  Look at my hands. Look at my feet. You can see that it’s really me. Touch me and make sure that I am not a ghost, because ghosts don’t have bodies, as you see that I do.” As he spoke, he showed them his hands and his feet.

  Still they stood there in disbelief, filled with joy and wonder. Then he asked them, “Do you have anything here to eat?”  They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he ate it as they watched.

 

          Startled, frightened, hearts filled with doubt, standing in disbelief.  “It’s really me,” says Jesus.  The Gospel of Mark, in its long ending, tells much the same story.  Whoever added the long ending knew Luke’s gospel very well; might even have had it sitting right next to him as he improved on Mark’s abrupt “frightened, running women.”

 

          Over to the Gospel of John where we find that famous scene starring Mary Magdalene, weeping in the empty tomb.  Once again, the angels appear, again dumbfounded at just how thick humans can be. Here’s another human, sobbing up a storm when she should be jumping for joy. “Woman,” they ask her, “why are you crying?”

 

“Because they have taken away my Lord,” she replied, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” If angels have the habit of slapping themselves in the forehead when faced with someone who just doesn’t get it, this is where they would do it.  Then Jesus comes into the scene.  Same question.  But let John tell it:

 

Mary turned to leave and saw someone standing there. It was Jesus, but she didn’t recognize him.  “Dear woman, why are you crying?” Jesus asked her. “Who are you looking for?”

She thought he was the gardener. “Sir,” she said, “if you have taken him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will go and get him.”

 

          Of course, then Jesus calls her by name, and finally she gets it, she understands who it is, and she yelps for joy and clings to him so tight he has to tell her to let go, or he’ll never manage to ascend to heaven, with her hanging on like that.

 

          John then tells the story of Jesus appearing to the disciples, locked doors or not, in the same way as Luke, but adds the famous professional doubter Thomas to the mix.  Thomas misses the first visit, and doesn’t believe his friends when they tell him the good news.  Again, would you write the Gospel like this?  A room full of disciples telling of the Resurrection of Jesus, and one of their own friends reacts with, “Yeah, right. If you think I’m going to believe that, you must think I’m crazier than Mary, here.”  A week later, though, Jesus does appear to Thomas, who finally believes.  But notice; the disciples, a full week after seeing the Resurrected Jesus, are still in hiding behind locked doors.  You get the feeling they still need a little persuading.

 

          Finally following orders, the disciples head off to Galilee.  You can picture them nervously sitting around in Peter’s house, jumpy, keeping an eye out for the Temple authorities, who just might be on their trail.  Days pass.  Finally, Peter has had enough.  With darkness safely fallen, we hear this (John 21:3-14):

 

Simon Peter said, "I'm going fishing!" The others said, "We will go with you." They went out in their boat. But they didn't catch a thing that night.

    Early the next morning Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not realize who he was. Jesus shouted, "Friends, have you caught anything?"

   "No!" they answered.

    So he told them, "Let your net down on the right side of your boat, and you will catch some fish."  They did, and the net was so full of fish that they could not drag it up into the boat.

    Jesus' favourite disciple told Peter, "It's the Lord!" When Simon heard that it was the Lord, he put on the clothes that he had taken off while he was working. Then he jumped into the water. The boat was only about a hundred yards from shore. So the other disciples stayed in the boat and dragged in the net full of fish.

    When the disciples got out of the boat, they saw some bread and a charcoal fire with fish on it. Jesus told his disciples, "Bring some of the fish you just caught." Simon Peter got back into the boat and dragged the net to shore. In it were one hundred fifty-three large fish, but still the net did not rip.

    Jesus said, "Come and eat!" But none of the disciples dared ask who he was. They knew he was the Lord. Jesus took the bread in his hands and gave some of it to his disciples. He did the same with the fish. This was the third time that Jesus appeared to his disciples after he was raised from death.

         

Did you get that? “The disciples did not realize who he was… But none of the disciples dared ask who he was...” And, to top it all off,This was the third time that Jesus appeared to his disciples after he was raised from death.” Three times, and there is still some uncertainty there.

 

Like I said, these Gospel writers are stubborn.  Honest, and stubborn.  So honest, so stubborn, so committed to the truth, that they are fully prepared to make the single most important aspect of the faith – the Resurrection of Jesus from the dead – an object of uncertainty and doubt.  Jesus says as much, when Thomas finally admits that yes, by Golly, it is him after all (John 20:29): Jesus said, "Thomas, do you have faith because you have seen me? The people who have faith in me without seeing me are the ones who are really blessed!" That’s you and me, he’s talking about; we who have faith without seeing.  You’re a part of the story too.  Jesus looks past Thomas, and sees you. 

 

So, what’s going on here?  Well, it seems as though something about Jesus has changed.  Something that prevents even the people who know him best from immediately recognizing who it is.  And to understand just what that might be, we have to turn from the Gospels, and to the Apostle Paul.

 

Paul’s epistle to the church he founded in Corinth – the letter we call First Corinthians – is earlier than the Gospel accounts, but it deals with the very problem we’re facing this morning.  And in the great 15th chapter – the chapter on Jesus’ resurrection, and ours – Paul explains what is going on.

 

People in Corinth are having trouble with this whole Resurrection thing.  They know that dead people just don’t come back to life, and they speculate that Jesus didn’t either – not really.  But Paul, who has personally seen the Risen Lord; Paul, who has spoken with the Resurrected Jesus; Paul, who was kicked off his horse and struck blind by the glory of the Resurrected Jesus, knows different.  After listing the hundreds of people to whom the Risen Jesus appeared, Paul writes (1 Cor 15:12-20):

 

 If we preach that Christ was raised from death, how can some of you say that the dead will not be raised to life? If they won't be raised to life, Christ himself wasn't raised to life. And if Christ wasn't raised to life, our message is worthless, and so is your faith. If the dead won't be raised to life, we have told lies about God by saying that he raised Christ to life, when he really did not.

    So if the dead won't be raised to life, Christ wasn't raised to life. Unless Christ was raised to life, your faith is useless, and you are still living in your sins. And those people who died after putting their faith in him are completely lost. If our hope in Christ is good only for this life, we are worse off than anyone else.

    But Christ has been raised to life! And he makes us certain that others will also be raised to life.

 

          And with that out of the way, he addresses this problem about Jesus’ appearance being changed.  Giving many examples, he concludes, “That's how it will be when our bodies are raised to life. These bodies will die, but the bodies that are raised will live forever. These ugly and weak bodies will become beautiful and strong. As surely as there are physical bodies, there are spiritual bodies. And our physical bodies will be changed into spiritual bodies.”

 

          Ever wondered about whether the Resurrection of the Dead was such a hot idea, if it meant being stuck with this imperfect, creaky old thing?  What Paul so gently refers to as these “ugly and weak bodies?” These bodies so vulnerable to aches, to pains, to sickness and disease, to age, to infirmity, to death?  Well, writes, Paul, “As surely as there are physical bodies, there are spiritual bodies. And our physical bodies will be changed into spiritual bodies.” And that is why Jesus wasn’t so immediately recognised.  Thirty-three years of hardship, of wandering, of giving himself for others, of wear, of tear, of harsh Middle Eastern climate and harsher Roman punishment, were wiped away, and the body which was raised was raised incorruptible. Changed.  As “we too will be changed, in a moment,” says Paul, “in the twinkling of an eye.

 

          It turns out the Gospel writers were just being honest.  Jesus was changed.  His Resurrected Body was changed from the beaten wreck of a thing which they dragged down from the cross just three days before – thank God.  You can trust the Gospels when they speak, for they speak the truth, no matter how uncomfortable or inconvenient it may be.  And you can trust Jesus when he says that we, too, shall know the joy of life eternal, life together with him, life lived beautiful and strong.  And in the meantime?

 

          In the meantime, says Jesus, “Go therefore and make disciples, telling everyone the Good News, loving as I have loved, sharing as I have shared.”  In the meantime, says Paul, My dear friends, stand firm and don't be shaken. Always keep busy working for the Lord. You know that everything you do for him is worthwhile.” And if we do – as we do – the change will begin, within, this very day.  We too shall be changed.  Amen.