Sunday, April 8, 2012

He Is Risen! No, Wait: "He Has Been Raised!"

Scripture      Mark 16:1-8

OK: Call-and-response time!

I call out, “Christ is risen”, and you respond, “He is risen, indeed!”

  Ready?

Christ is risen …            Christ is risen …            Christ has been raised! …

That last one caught most of us up short -- didn't it?

Hear again the following – from Mark’s gospel today: “As (the three women) entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side … he said to them, ‘Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here.”

Christ is risen? That’s one way of putting it. “He has been raised?” Hmmm …

I was compelled to study biblical Greek in seminary a quarter century of summers ago. And it was there I was also compelled to learn afresh grammatical terms I originally encountered in middle school – and promptly forgot.

For example, in biblical Greek that summer I learned afresh what a present perfect verb is. A present perfect verb is “a past action with consequences in the present.”

Such is the Greek verb before us today, announcing Christ’s resurrection – a single word correctly translated I believe by the New Revised Standard Version into three English words. Hear again that announcement: “He has been raised; he is not here.”

Christ’s resurrection. A past action – not witnessed, apparently, by a single human soul. A past action, with present consequences: as the robed gentleman, speaking with the women, was soon to add, “he is going ahead of you to Galilee.”

But we generally don’t hear the “he has been raised” phrase on any given Easter Sunday morning. We hear, and we sing, and we say to one another, as we smile and sally past the empty tomb, “Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed!”

“He is risen!” Yes: This is true. As far as it goes.

“He has been raised!” Yes: This is true, too. And I would add: even more so!

It’s a present perfect verb. A past action … with consequences in the present.

  … God’s past into our present.

And that can be very difficult for us to fathom. And perhaps even to acknowledge.


On Easter Sunday, much of our dominant culture celebrates that Christ is risen. By natural extension, we are encouraged as Christ’s followers to be “risen”, too! To rise above the difficult situations in life we find ourselves in, any given entombed day. Days heavy-laden with such burdens as fear … depression … resentment … economic reversal … illness … death … grief.

We are culturally encouraged – cajoled, implored, even – to rise above these ills. Above the fray. To pick ourselves up by our own bootstraps – even those who have no boots. To put on our big girl or big boy pants. Or as my father used to sing, to pack up our troubles in our old kit-bag, and smile – smile – smile.

If it feels good, we are taught, it is good. If it feels bad … well: It must be intrinsically bad. So feel good instead! Bad feelings are at least related to evil. They’re uncomfortable. Don’t go there. Rise above ‘em! Be risen!

And so feeling the demands of a world detached from grief and denying of death, we exchange among ourselves this and every Easter Sunday the usual refrain: “He is risen. He is risen, indeed!” Freezing a smile upon our face as we fetch ourselves up, away from all mirrors, and say: “And so am I!”

Tempted as we are to dwell in that “risen” place in our lives, I invite each of us to ponder the source of our resurrection. The source of our resurrection implied by “He has been raised” that “He is risen” never suggests. And in pondering that source of new life – new life for us all! – behind “He has been raised”, I invite you to ponder with me two simple questions: How has God been raising us, to a joyous Easter place in our lives? And how has Jesus been raised through us – and through us, still?

In other words: Where is our sense of God’s present perfect action in the Holy Week story, and in ours: a past action, with consequences in the present?

Not just, are you risen? But, how have we been and are still being raised?


Over the last two months, our church’s Session – the governing board of our congregation – has invested considerable meeting time prayerfully discussing and discovering how God might be calling us to be raised. How God might be calling us to a singular energizing vision for our congregation. We began with a healing church metaphor – based on many things: Jesus’ ministry of individual and social healing … the Gospel of John’s healing pool of Bethesda, and its roots in naming our church and ultimately this town … many of our current ministries, from pastoral care to Bethesda Cares … the many physical healing institutions in our area, such as NIH and Walter Reed … and finally, that Del Ray 12 Step Club we hear so much about, eventually coming to this second floor behind us, providing spiritual healing for alcoholism and other compulsions.

These discussions of a new vision, Session agreed early, would in no way replace or even displace our Personal, Passionate, Progressive church identity. These discussions would simply provide, to employ two Session metaphors, a canopy over those 3 Ps, or a more emotionally grounded foundation for them. Take your spatial pick.

Soon, our Session’s energized and wide-ranging discussions of what a “healing church” vision would look like indicated to us that God might be on to something with us here. At our March meeting, I think it both safe and accurate to say that we began to hear the Spirit into speech. And so we decided then, that on this day – Easter Sunday – we would share with you, our congregation, a visionary phrase as a theme for this special day ... and perhaps for our church’s future. A vision that incorporates the 3 Ps as our “how-to” – while standing alone as our “yes” to God. Words found emblazoned on the blue banner in front of our church this morning:

Bethesda Presbyterian Church: “A Place For Healing”

A Place for Healing. We welcome your feedback on this four-word phrase as we move forward in the ongoing act of resurrection. In other words: the ongoing act of being raised.

Could it be that we might communicate to the world, as one Session member put it, “Jump on in! The water is fine! We won’t let you sink! There is enough space for you here!”?

Could it be that what the three women in Mark’s story today originally wished to accomplish – anointing the dead – is not what we want for our church?

Could it be that the women’s subsequent fear – one which moved them to flee from the empty tomb and not to tell everyone – is also not what we want for our church?

And could it be that we can then move beyond that back-slapping platitude that Christ – and by extension we – are risen already, so we can move into a rooted, historic, and journeying faith of being raised by our loving God?

Celebrating and effecting actions of healing, with consequences in the present. Actions that testify to God’s ongoing resurrection grace of being healed, lest we go Pentecostal and simply pronounce, “Be healed!”

Moving us beyond this one day to a new way – from risenness to being raised.

Could it be that Christ’s body – this church – is being raised? Raised by God as a place for individual and social healing?


There is much to celebrate, and much we can learn, from our rich past here. Let us neither dwell on it or shut the door on it.

There is much to celebrate, and much we can learn, from the countless personal journeys we bring here. Let us cherish these, share these … and not be bound by these.

There is much to celebrate, and much we can learn, from new friends who pass through these doors. These doors we also pass through in the other direction, to seek and serve those who might never darken them anyway.

There is much to celebrate, and much we can learn: from our past, for our present, and from our presence with others – and theirs with us.

And yet n the end: Can we truly confess before the throne of God we have provided a place for healing here for those who need it – in this jewel of a facility, and among us rough diamonds who frequent it? Can we truly confess that Christ is not only risen in our midst, but has been raised from the humus – the root word for humility – of our church’s hospitable soil?

For Christ is more than risen among us, in this place of healing. Christ is being raised – the true resurrection journey!

  He has been raised! And let us, the congregation, respond …

 He has been raised, indeed!

  He has been raised! …     He has been raised! …      He is being raised! …

Go likewise, and be raised with him!