Easter Vigil 2016 | Doubt and Longing

Please pray with me.

O Lord, of all of your promises that you've given to us,

you promise your presence and you promise your voice.

So we pray now, Lord, by your mercy,

that these spoken words would lead us faithfully into your written word

and that your written word would reveal to us your living word.

And that as we see him and as we hear him

and as we come to know him,

that we would be changed and become more like him.

We pray this for our good and for your glory, Lord.

In your son's name, amen.

Amen.

So all of this week,

all of this evening,

we've been not only sharing a story,

but embodying a story.

We've been participating together

in the recounting of a story

that started thousands of years ago

and continues to this very moment.

On Friday, we remembered the horror of the cross.

This horrific image.

And on Sunday, we'll celebrate the hope of the resurrection.

In just a little while, in fact.

But for the moment, we find ourselves in a day

that we call Holy Saturday.

It's a day in between.

It inhabits an in-between space,

a space between horror and hope.

It's a day of uncertainty.

It's a day of confusion.

And so this is a moment where we pause

and we ask ourselves,

what do we believe about God?

What do we believe about this world?

What do we believe about ourselves?

And how it all fits together?

And I'd like us to do that

by spending a little time

reflecting on the person of Pontius Pilate.

I know that's an odd choice.

If you think that, you're probably right.

We don't know much about Pilate

other than the fact that he is famous

for being the one who finally made the decision

that Jesus should be crucified.

Beyond that, beyond knowing that he was the governor

of the region at the time of Jesus' crucifixion,

that he was in politics

and held that office for roughly 10 years,

we know very little.

The Bible, frankly, doesn't tell us much.

There are many speculations

and even one tradition dating back

to at least the second century

that Pilate eventually became a follower of Jesus.

A bit spurious, perhaps.

But we don't know much about him.

But the one reason that I believe

we should spend time thinking about this person

is because if the Bible makes anything clear about Pilate,

it's that he was a deeply conflicted man.

He was a deeply fragmented person in his heart.

And in that one way,

I think that he's someone with whom we can all identify.

Pilate seems suspended between two poles.

As we see him encounter, interact with,

and ultimately be forced to decide about Jesus,

he seems suspended between two poles

or buffeted by two powerful conflicting forces.

On the one hand,

the Jewish leaders and the crowds

are pressuring him

to side with them,

to agree that this man Jesus

is nothing more than a rabble rouser.

He's nothing to concern ourselves with.

And it would be better for all of us

if he were done away with quickly and violently.

And on the other side,

as we read these accounts,

Pilate clearly has a gut feeling about Jesus.

Jesus,

an intuition,

something that he doesn't seem to quite be able to identify,

but it's obvious that he, in some ways,

doubts his doubts.

He seems to wonder if Jesus might really be more than he seems.

He tries again and again

to convince Jesus to defend himself.

He creates opportunities for Jesus

to get himself off the hook,

should he hope to survive this encounter.

He even tells the leaders of the Jews

and the crowds

that he believes that Jesus is innocent of the charges.

So what does this have to do with us?

And what does it have to do with this evening?

I don't want to take Pilate out of context.

I don't want to project anything

onto Pilate that isn't there,

but I do believe

that in this way,

Pilate would really be at home

in our culture today.

I think Pilate would very much be at home

in a Western postmodern context.

A few years ago,

the philosopher Charles Taylor

wrote a massive doorstop of a book

called A Secular Age,

made accessible to people like me

by other books,

such as the one by Jamie Smith.

But he asks this question

as the centerpiece of his work.

How in just 500 years

did Western culture go from being a place

where it was virtually impossible

not to believe in God

and in just 500 years,

it became a culture

in which belief in God

was just one of many options?

How did that happen in so short a time?

And Taylor spends a lot of time

describing what it feels like

to be in our culture today.

He's trying to get at the sense of things.

And he says that we are,

in many ways,

suspended between two poles.

On the one end,

a purely materialistic atheism.

No gods,

no miracles,

no magic,

nothing beyond this.

And on the other end,

the other pole,

is a deep,

profound,

gut level,

inconsolable longing

for the transcendent.

And so he says

we live our lives

buffeted by these two forces.

And because of that,

we are all deeply conflicted.

We are fragmented.

And this applies to believers

and non-believers alike.

So he says

all believers

are haunted by doubt.

Admit it.

All of us who are here

who are believers,

we're haunted by doubt.

The choice is not between

doubt and belief.

As Jamie Smith says,

we believe while doubting.

And what this means

is that for people like me,

my faith often feels

like a struggle.

Sometimes it feels like

a tooth and nail battle.

And I know many of you

are the same

if we're really honest.

I'm not saying that

there aren't great reasons

for the faith.

There are.

There's extraordinary

compelling evidence

that the resurrection

actually happened.

Hopefully you'll hear

more of that tomorrow.

Extraordinary evidence.

And I'm not saying

that faith isn't a gift.

It is very much

a gift.

But what I am saying

is this,

that we live in a culture

that constantly

undermines

belief.

belief.

It constantly

undermines

faith

by the very fact

that faith

and belief

are even considered

to be a choice.

And so some of us

are okay with that.

We understand

that this is a part

of our culture,

a part of the water

that we swim in

and we embrace it.

But I know

that there are

some of us,

many of us,

some of whom

are probably here tonight,

who are ashamed,

who feel that our faith

is somehow deficient.

This is the water

that we swim in,

friends.

And here's the thing.

It works both ways.

Not only is

belief

constantly

undermined,

but unbelief

is constantly

undermined

in the very same

way.

Many atheists

and agnostics

are also

haunted.

But they're

haunted by belief.

Thomas Nagel,

who's an atheist

professor at NYU,

writes about

what it's like

to be haunted

by belief.

He says this,

I want atheism

to be true.

I want it

to be true.

And I'm made

uneasy by the fact

that some of the

most intelligent

and well-informed

people I know

are religious believers.

So Taylor says

that we're haunted

by this deep

inconsolable longing

for something bigger

or something more

or something beyond this.

Listen to these lyrics

from the Fleet Foxes.

You gotta know

your audience,

right?

I was raised up

believing I was

somehow unique.

Like a snowflake,

distinct among

snowflakes,

unique in each way

you can see.

And now,

after some thinking,

I'd say I'd rather be

a functioning cog

in some great machinery,

serving something

beyond me.

But I don't.

I don't know

what that will be.

I'll get back

to you someday,

soon.

You will see.

What's my name?

What's my station?

Oh, just tell me

what I should do.

So think about this.

We live in a culture

where we define freedom

as the ability

to define truth

for ourselves.

The Supreme Court

even made this official

back in 1992

in a ruling

where they wrote,

at the heart of liberty

is the right to define

one's own concept

of existence.

existence.

At the heart of liberty

is the freedom

to define

one's own concept

of existence.

And we hear this

and we believe this

on one level

and yet this makes you wonder,

is life

as a self-defining

little snowflake

really that great?

because the time

comes when we look

at our degrees

and we look

at our jobs

and we look

at our accomplishments

and we look

at our perfectly

manicured identities

and we think,

is this it?

Is this all there is?

Is there nothing

more to it?

And all this means

that we're more

and more

and more fragmented

on the inside

in the sense

that we don't

fit together.

It's as though

our thoughts

and feelings

are like multiple

ships passing

in the night.

There was an interview

on NPR's Fresh Air

where Terry Gross

interviews

the children's book writer

Maurice Sendak,

Where the Wild Things Are,

one of our favorites

at home.

And he's talking

about getting old,

he's talking about

his friends dying

and he starts talking

about his brother

passing away

and he's mourning

the loss of his brother

and listen to what

he says.

I don't believe

in an afterlife

but I still fully

expect to see

my brother again.

I don't believe

in an afterlife

but I fully expect

to see my brother again.

If you're not convinced

that this division,

this conflict

is a reality,

just ask people

who work in advertising.

They have this down

to a science.

You know,

brand managers

used to be responsible

for writing copy

and designing packaging.

But now,

brand managers

are expected

to turn their brand

into an entire system

of meaning

with an entire

religiously devoted

community

attached to it

because they know

that a person

like me,

if I even

remotely suspect

that a shoe

or a car

is going to somehow

satisfy

that inconsolable

longing,

I'm much more likely

to buy it.

Or there are places

like SoulCycle.

Wildly successful.

Wildly successful.

It's an exercise class.

It's an exercise class

that promises

you can not only

get in shape

but find your soul.

It says it in neon letters.

Find your soul

for just $30 to $40

per class.

You ride a bike

for an hour.

Find your soul.

But these places

are blowing up.

Why?

Julian Barnes

once wrote,

I don't believe in God

but I miss him.

That's our culture

in a nutshell.

We live suspended

between disillusionment

and longing.

So why are we talking

about this now?

Now?

Because there's no day

in the church calendar

where this theme

is more appropriate

than Holy Saturday.

This cultural moment

is captured perfectly

in the mood

of this evening.

Because in our culture,

listen,

every day

is Holy Saturday.

Every day

is Holy Saturday.

It's a day

suspended

between the godless

brutality

of the crucifixion

and the seeming

fairytale hope

of resurrection.

And it's suspended

right in between

these two things.

Can you imagine

what it must have been like

for the disciples

on that first Saturday?

Can you imagine

what they must have

been feeling?

You understand,

they expected

that Jesus

had come

to lead a rebellion.

They had been told

since the time

they were toddlers

that their nation

was set aside

by God

for great things,

great purposes.

They had been told

that when they were

in times of captivity,

like the great story

of the Exodus,

that God would one day

come and liberate them.

And here they are,

oppressed by Rome,

humiliated,

tolerated as long

as they pay their taxes.

And they knew,

they just knew

when they read

their scriptures

that at some point

God was going to send

another Messiah,

liberator,

to set them free.

And so they saw Jesus

and they saw what he did

and they heard what he said

and they expected,

they knew in their guts

that one day

he was going to overthrow Rome

and he was going to

vindicate Israel

and he was going to show

everybody,

you don't mess

with God's people.

in short,

they wanted Jesus

to make Israel

great again.

So can you imagine

what they must have been feeling?

As the blood ran down

the cross that day,

it must have been

as though all the magic

bled out of the world.

Don't you feel it?

Don't you feel

the disillusionment?

I mean,

when you look at our city,

when you look at our world,

when you look at our country,

when you look at this election,

can you not feel

the disillusionment,

the almost existential dread

in the air?

here's the point.

I believe that we are

a Holy Saturday culture

in need of Easter Sunday hope.

So this brings us

to our final question.

How do we respond

to the claims of Easter?

How do we respond

to these claims

of hope?

There's Pilate's way.

How does Pilate respond?

He hides behind cynicism.

When Jesus tells Pilate

that he came to bear witness

to the truth,

Pilate famously responds,

what is truth?

Some people live

their whole lives

asking that question,

poking holes

and poking holes

and poking holes

and popping balloon

after balloon.

it's a great way

to insulate yourself

against disillusionment.

But to borrow

an image

from Andy Crouch,

cynicism is a lot

like bubble wrap.

You can wrap yourself

around with it

and it will insulate you

from the hard

knocks of disillusionment

in this kind of culture.

And yet,

it will also rob you.

It will rob you

of the ability

to fully experience.

joy,

love,

it will dilute

those things.

The problem is,

C.S. Lewis writes,

is you cannot go on

seeing through things

forever.

The whole point

of seeing through something

is to see something

through it.

If you see through everything,

then everything

is transparent.

transparent.

But a wholly transparent world

is an invisible world.

To see through all things

is the same

as not to see.

Cynicism, I believe,

is one of the leading causes

of blindness

in our culture.

Or, like Pilot,

we can simply put off

making any decision

as long as we possibly can.

Pilot obviously has

a high priority item

and that is

keeping the peace.

And he knows

that once he takes

a clear stance

on Jesus,

he will have to deal

with the implications.

And so,

if you read these accounts,

he puts it off

as long as he possibly can.

He even sends Jesus

to Herod

like a hot potato,

hoping that Herod

will take the responsibility

off of his shoulders.

And even when he finally

makes the decision,

he publicly washes his hands

as if to say,

don't hold me responsible

for this decision.

How many of us

are the same?

We know that

as long as we remain

undecided,

we don't have to be

accountable to anything.

Plus,

it is a shortcut

to being sophisticated.

The jury's still out.

I have a friend

who came to Jesus

a few years back,

but she spent a long time

seeking as an adult.

And she told some

of her friends at work

about her spiritual journey.

And she said,

I'm beginning to ask questions

and I'm beginning to look

and to seek spiritually

and to figure out

what I believe

about God and myself

and this world.

And I'm exploring.

And all of her friends

rallied around her

and said,

this is amazing.

This is great.

We have such respect for you.

This is incredible.

Share with us

what you're learning.

We want to be a part

of this journey with you.

This is incredible.

And she had an amazing,

powerful experience.

Came to believe in Jesus.

It began to change her life.

And she went back

to these same friends

and said,

I think I found

what I was looking for.

And she told me

that these same friends

were shocked

and they were horrified.

And a number of them

told her that they had

lost respect for her.

Our culture loves

seekers,

not so much finders.

It's funny,

if somebody came

and said they were thirsty,

would we not offer them

a drink?

Or would we say,

it's all about

the experience of thirst?

Enjoy it.

This is what life is.

Short though it may be.

So we can be like Pilate,

but then,

and listen,

then we would probably

have to take

that deep yearning

and we would have

to suppress it.

What do you do with it?

Or you could take

classes at SoulCycle.

Or,

we can do what

countless others

have done.

People like Augustine,

who actually had

a very powerful

conversion experience

about 300 years

after Pilate.

Augustine was every bit

as conflicted as Pilate.

He was every bit

as fragmented,

every bit as torn.

By skepticism

and unbelief

and longing.

And yet,

when he felt

that longing

and when he felt

that desire,

he didn't suppress it,

he listened to it.

He listened to it.

And he followed it.

He followed it

like a mountain stream

up and up

and up,

past wealth,

past success,

past romantic love,

past pleasure,

and he kept

following it up

until he found

the source.

And he met

Jesus.

And he realized

that this longing

is actually

an ancient

memory

that we have

as human beings.

It's an imprint.

It's the emptiness

that we experience

apart from the love

of God.

And so,

when he found Jesus,

he realized

he was finding

the one

who said,

I came

that you may

have life

and have it

abundantly.

I wonder

what it would

have been like

if Pilate

could have met

Augustine

and had a conversation

with him.

Can you imagine

Pilate

in a rare moment

of honesty

for a politician

after a few

glasses of wine

finally spilling

it out on the table?

I can't take it

anymore.

I feel torn apart.

And for Augustine

to share with Pilate

the words

that he once

prayed to God.

You have made us

for yourself,

O Lord,

and our hearts

are restless

until they find

their rest

in you.

Friends,

I would never

presume to tell you

what you should think

about Jesus.

I don't think

Christians should

tell people

what to think

about anything.

But I will

encourage you

to think.

To think well.

To ask the questions.

Because we could

remain in the

perpetual uncertainty

of Holy Saturday.

We could stay

right here.

There's nothing

stopping us

from staying

right here.

Because there is

a sort of peace

here.

The only problem

is it's the kind

of peace

that you find

in a tomb.

It's a lifeless

peace.

Or if you do

feel this longing

in yourself.

if you feel it

gnawing,

even whispering.

Might you have

the courage

to listen to it?

To follow it

out of the tomb?

To commit yourself

to open

and honest inquiry?

To see where

it might lead?

Let's pray together.

After we pray

this prayer,

there will be a song

and then there will

be a ten minute

period of silent

reflection.

I encourage you

to use this time

to think and reflect,

to ask God

to speak to you.

Let's pray together.

Almighty God,

creator of heaven

and earth,

grant that as

the crucified

body of your

dear son

was laid

in the tomb

and rested

on this night,

so we may

await with him

the coming

of the third day

and rise with him

to newness of life

who lives

and reigns

with you

in the Holy Spirit,

one God,

now and forever.

Amen.