"While it was still dark"-Sermon for Easter Sunday, John 20:1-18:
Back in the 1980’s archeologists who were working on a dig in the Holy Lands, specifically in the Judean desert just north of Jerusalem, unearthed of all things an un-germinated seed measuring about 10 centimeters in diameter. Upon further research, it was determined that the seed was about a thousand years old and in pristine condition considering its age. Moving forward in time, in 2010, botanists decided to plant the seed to learn more about the mysterious plant it might produce. For the seed itself had no exact equivalent today and was likely from a plant that was long extinct. So, they soaked the seed in water mixed with hormones and fertilizers and buried it in a pot filled with soil, with hopes that it might still come to life despite its ancient age. Then, some five and half weeks later, a shoot sprung up. You see, there was much interest, scientifically and biblically, in what the seed might produce. For, in addition to its age and the possibility of studying a species long extinct, when they compared the seed to existing plant species some scientists suggested that it might be the plant, indeed long extinct, that produced a medicinal sap, which the Old Testament prophet Jeremiah called the Balm of Gilead. And, if that sounds familiar, it might be from Jeremiah chapter 8 verse 22, in which Jeremiah prophesies, “Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then is there no healing for the wounds of [God's] people?"
You see, in the ancient world of the Old Testament the sap from a very special tree that grew in the region of Gilead near Jericho east of Jerusalem was a precious and highly sought-after medicine used to treat all manner of illnesses, including, stemming blood flow. And, Jeremiah, was using this natural, God-made medical marvel to speak of the disease…the dis-ease…of fear, sin and death that infused the people in his own day. God’s people were suffering. They lived in a highly unstable geo-political world. They faced potential destruction, exile and captivity from much larger and aggressive empires that surrounded them on all sides. Corruption existed within their own leadership, and their own moral failings to care for the most vulnerable among them was rupturing the fabric of their society. And, rather than turning to God alone to seek their salvation, they were worshiping false idols and other near-eastern gods. It was like their nation was bleeding out before Jeremiah’s eyes and that there nothing that could stem the tide of their suffering. Thus, on behalf of God, Jeremiah cries out, “Is there no Balm in Gilead?” In other words, is there nothing out there that can save us…save us from ourselves and from the power of sin and death that surrounds us at every turn? Are there no physicians to help stem the bleeding, no good and Godly people who can help Israel see and name the error of their ways and chart a new path forward…a path rooted in the love of God…the life of God, alive and active, in the world…the God who created all people by and for love’s sake alone…the God who already saved them from the bloodletting whips of their taskmasters in Egypt who once held them in slavery. Is there anyone or anything that can help heal such broken hearts, living in such a broken world? And, perhaps, this prophecy of spiritual angst and anxiety still resonates…for the suffering experienced in Jeremiah’s ancient world is our own as well. For the world remains a very fragile and uncertain place. The geo-political landscape remains fraught with violence and deep division. The most vulnerable people’s cry for justice and acknowledgement and dignity often continues to go unheard. Moreover, our own lives are often bloodied and battered by the crosses we carry and, at times, hang on ourselves. That is the open wounds left from divorce, distance, unwanted diagnosis, addiction and profound loss…and the deeply impactful consequences of our own poor choices and those heaped on our shoulders by the poor choices of others. And, I know this suffering to be real because I have experienced it in my own life, and, as your pastor, I am blessed to often help you carry your own. So, is there no Balm in Gilead?
Now, I am not suggesting that we, the good folk of St. Julian’s, are not diligent students of the bible…but perhaps, rather than Jeremiah, the reason the Balm of Gilead might sound familiar is, instead, from the beloved hymn…the African-American spiritual that we often sing in this place titled not as Jeremiah actually prophesied, “Is there no Balm in Gilead”…but…and, if you know the title, say it with me…“There is a Balm in Gilead”. There is a Balm in Gilead…that makes the wounded whole. There is a Balm in Gilead…that soothes the sin-sick soul.
As I am sure some of you know, the recently retired Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, Michael Curry, loves to preach on this hymn. And, in one such sermon, he noted that the two words “is there”, “Is there a Balm in Gilead”, spoken by the prophet Jeremiah was reversed to “there is”, “There is a Balm in Gilead”, by people, God’s own beloved people, suffering from the dehumanizing, blood-letting, life pouring out, un-Godly institution of American slavery. In those darkest of days, those suffering on a cross of others making…a cross that was very much a continuation through time of the one on which our Lord died…a people who knew the stories of Israel’s suffering in the Old Testament better than we…for they not only knew them in their minds but lived them out in their bodies…these precious ones knew exactly what Jeremiah said. They didn’t simply miss-read the text…nothing like that. Instead, they made an intentional choice…for in their own present darkness they caught sight of the fluttering light of hope…of resurrection…their own and the worlds in the empty tomb that we celebrate this day. Thus, in their suffering, they sung out in resurrection hope for a promised new life, “There is a Balm in Gilead”. Like song-birds singing to welcome the rising sun in a cemetery, a New Testament…a new story of hope was being written about the cross’ defeat…sin and death’s defeat…the stemming…the ending…of blood poured out to the point of death…a new story of love’s victory written first on the walls of Jesus’ empty tomb we celebrate this morning…and then on the hearts and bones of all people…of everything that is made…even you…even me.
Mel Bland and Katherine Lilly’s brother, the Rev. Marben Bland, led our men’s retreat this year. And, though the retreat was just before Lent began, it was a very Easter-y sort of weekend, full of life, love, hope and new-life. And, in a conversation we shared, he noted that his church, Greater Bethel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Athens, GA, like many historic Black Churches, was built very shortly after emancipation. He said in those supremely precarious days full of fear and anxiety, the very first thing that many of those formerly enslaved people chose to do was to gather their very limited resources and build churches…like his. And he suggested, they were signs, symbols and wonders pointing to the fact there is a Balm in Gilead…and that balm is nothing less than the love poured out at Easter in the glorious resurrection of Jesus Christ our Lord…such that suffering is not and shall never be the end of all things…but, instead, life and love alone…from forever to forever.
And, this is true of the new church we have just built as well. For we too are all together a sign, symbol and wonder…pointing to the power and promise of new-life in Jesus’ resurrection. One of our newest members at St. Julian’s shared at our women’s retreat, which was also an Easter-y sort of weekend, that she found us in our new church following the recent loss of her beloved spouse. She noted that her grief was all consuming…that the darkness of death felt like it was pressing in on all sides…overwhelming and everywhere…all at once. But, through a lifetime of knowing the love of God in her life, the light of hope was still fluttering in her own darkness. So, she courageously wandered into our very first service in this place seeking her own Easter sort of moment. Though grief is a life-long journey and finding healing and peace takes much time, she noted that she discovered among us, in the ministry and friendship we offer, a hopeful balm for a resurrected sort of life…moving through the darkness of loss and into the light of hope…a new life that matters and is full of meaning and purpose…for her and those like us that she shares her life with. Thus, we too are like song-birds singing to welcome the rising sun in a cemetery, a part of the New Testament…a new story of hope written of sin and death’s defeat through Jesus Christ our Lord’s glorious resurrection.
That ancient seed planted in 2010 is now a tree more than 14 years old and just under 10 feet tall (next slide). It is being cared for and studied by some of the worlds most gifted botanists. But, despite the scientists’ best efforts, it will likely never be completely determined if it is, in fact, the exact species of tree that Jeremiah first spoke of as the Balm of Gilead, for the historical record is limited and there is nothing, again, living to compare it to. But, once the tree was mature enough to experiment on, they did find that it released a sap that when studied included a “treasure chest of medicinal compounds”, including, potential cancer fighting properties…a healing balm…indeed. And, that just bursts my hearts wide open. Another sign, symbol and wonder reminding us that (sing)…there is a Balm in Gilead that makes the wounded whole. There is a Balm in Gilead that soothes the sin sick soul.
Friends, the Easter light of hope still flutters in our own and the world’s darkest moments…perhaps most brightly in our darkest moments. Like that ancient tree risen to new-life out of the Judean desert, today, we proclaim and celebrate that Jesus is risen out of an ancient tomb hewn in a Judean hill-side…who is the Balm…the Balm of Gilead that heals and cures us all…heart, body and mind…Jesus Christ our Lord, whose glorious resurrection has defeated sin and death for all time…such that beyond suffering…beyond all the crosses that still plague our sorely divided world…in the fullness of time…a resurrected light and love will stand alone…for all that God has lovingly made…for you and for me...from forever to forever. Amen.