"Theology never saved anyone" - my Brazilian colleague said to me. Considering that he was working on his PhD in Theology, this came as quite a surprise. It's one of those things you hear someone say and mentally put it to the side until you have time to think through all the ramifications of what that might mean - or think, I must have misunderstood. Two words in that sentence, theology and saved, traditionally go hand in hand. God saves. But of course that is not a correct interpretation. Theology is not a title for God, but rather the study of God and all things pertaining to God. Indeed, God does save, but theology, in and of itself, does not.
One might also say theology never kept anyone awake on a Sunday morning either. I happen to find theology totally engrossing and fascinating but totally understand why others do not: Because at the end of the day, theology never saved anyone.
Still, this is an ironic thing to consider on Easter morning given that the entire metanarrative of the Christian Church is built on the theological foundation of atonement theory; Christ's death atoned for our sins. That is why we go to church on Easter morning, yes? To celebration our new life, the one Christ provided for us, through his death and resurrection. In the fulfillment of the prophets, Jesus took on our sins and they died with him; hence, we are saved. It's a bit more complicated than that; actually there are four very distinct and different atonement theories, but I'm not going to explain them because, well, theology never saved anyone. God who is with and in Christ and who lives and moves in the Holy Spirit saves; but the theories of how that actually works do not.
The Gospel reading today does not contain theology. It is a story, a record of an event that someone witnessed and after the story had been told repeatedly in many communities and as part of worship in house churches over many years, someone we know as Matthew, wrote it down as part of his testimony to the resurrection of Jesus. It is not a theological treatise. It is a testimony to the truth. In 2000 years time, for good and for ill, we have burdened this truth with much doctrine and dogma; so much in fact that the doctrine stands out ahead of the story. It's like someone telling you the end of the movie before you've seen it. We know the point of this story before we've even heard it. We push to the finish, perhaps thinking, "Come on, cut to the chase, yes, yes, the tomb is empty, Jesus is risen. Yeah! Can we eat now?"
When I was in the Holy Land a few years ago, our group visited the tomb believed to be the one where Jesus was laid, the one found abandoned on that sabbath day by the two Mary's. Of all the places we visited, it was the most meaningful to me. Unlike the Church of the Holy Sepulcher in the Old City which was very crowded, commercialized, dark and dirty, the area around the tomb had been made into a lush garden and was under the care of an order of the Anglican Church. Visitations were strictly coordinated group by group, each with a guide. After we'd seen the tomb, actually been able to bend down and go into it, we spent some time in a lovely outdoor chapel where we prayed and sang Were you There. But I could not sing of sorrow having myself seen the empty tomb. I wanted to yell out - Why are you singing these sad songs? Shouldn't we be singing something more like, Alleluia! Alleluia! Give thanks to the risen Lord?
You see, theology never saved anyone. There is nothing to compare to the haunting witness of grace that one experiences in the sight of an empty tomb.
"Although [John Newton] had had some early religious instruction from his mother, who had died when he was a child, he had long since given up any religious convictions. However, [as a slave trader] on a homeward voyage, while he was attempting to steer the ship through a violent storm, he experienced what he was to refer to later as his “great deliverance.” He recorded in his journal that when all seemed lost and the ship would surely sink, he exclaimed, 'Lord, have mercy upon us.' Later in his cabin he reflected on what he had said and began to believe that God had addressed him through the storm" and that he had experienced God's saving grace. (from http://www.anointedlinks.com/amazing_grace.html) The hymn he would later write, Amazing Grace, about the experience was a testimony to his conversion, not a hermeneutic on the theology of grace. And thousands upon thousands have shared in that grace in the hearing of this simple, understated witness.
As should be our practice at all times, it is especially important that we do not limit ourselves to any one particular part of scripture, despite the fact that the lectionary writers have done so. Today is no exception. The part of Matthew assigned for today is Matthew 28:1-10 - but read on for six more verses, to the part where Jesus meets up with the disciples on a mountain in Galilee. There he commissions them to continue his work, not the work of intellectuals who argue over doctrine - but the hands-on work of being Christ in the world.
This year, instead of the lovely Easter line drawings I have in stock for the front cover of the bulletin I went with a scene from Haiti. Its a photo for public use courtesy of Church World Service. I don't know the story behind the picture, but it translates very effectively the paradox of the cross; defeat and triumph in the same moment. It is to me the closest I've gotten to actually seeing grace in black and white. It's a living reminder that in every catastrophe, tragedy and outright epic failure, ultimately, God will triumph. Said another way, grace is that place where worldly defeat and redemption live side by side in perfect harmony. Now we must be careful not to overwork or romanticize this notion or its relevance will dissolve. Grace is precious and fragile in that way. It's like making biscuits; if you handle it too much all you're left with are hockey pucks. Remember, theology never saved anyone.
In the movie Jurassic Park, there is a scene in which one of the scientists finds broken egg shells from recently hatched baby dinosaurs. Amazed, he is reminded of being told early on that the dinosaurs could not reproduce because they were genetically engineered to be sterile. As the scientists stares at the shell remains, he smiles and says, "Nature found a way." In the burial rite there is a line at the time of the commendation that goes, "Even though we die and go down to the grave, there we will sing this song, Alleluia, Alleluia." God has found a way, and we call it grace.
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