In bud — we are, in bud, still

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From too much love of living…
even the weariest river
winds somewhere to the sea –

But we have only begun to love…
we have only begun to imagine…
how could we tire of hope?
— so much is in bud…

So much is unfolding that must
complete its gesture,
so much is in bud.

Excerpt from “Beginners” by Denise Levertov

As is appropriate for Easter Day,
this is a short sermon,
because honestly, how
much can one say
about resurrection?

Once, sometime as the Earth was forming
and I was in seminary,
I was marooned in the Detroit airport
on my way someplace —

I don’t even remember where
or anything about the trip
other than this one encounter.

I was killing time
at a little bar-size table
in a bar, when a Christian
came up and started talking to me.

You know what I mean
when I say “Christian.”
I am a Christian
but not that kind.
Anyway, he wanted me to meet Jesus
and I told him I already had
and was in seminary.
It turns out he was in seminary too,
but definitely not
the kind of seminary I went to.

He was pressing me
to see if I knew the right Jesus.
In those days
I was a lot more interested
in debating such things
and I was also a lot more polite — imagine that.
His final argument
rested on the question,
“If you had a television camera
at the tomb on Easter morning,
and you filmed everything,
would you see the bodily Jesus
raised from the dead?”

Knowing he had a right answer in mind
and that he expected
me to have the wrong answer,
I said, “It wouldn’t matter.”

”Why wouldn’t it matter?” He was incredulous.

”Because,” I said, “even if you captured
the resurrection on camera,
some people would believe it
and some people wouldn’t.”

Honestly, I didn’t know how true that was
until this era of people yelling fake news
and what is right in from of us
some people still won’t believe;
or climate change
that most people now accept
but that millions still don’t;
or the guilt or innocence
beyond a reasonable doubt
that will be argued in the public square
until we shout the life right out of ourselves.

But I know this: Easter morning
is not a moment
to ask one another
what we believe.
It doesn’t matter
what we believe about Jesus
or what we believe from
Matthew’s story,
or what we believe
is true or false.

It matters what we know
and whether we know
…we have only begun to love…
that we have only begun to imagine…
that hope is not something of which we tire —
because so much is in bud…

So much is unfolding that must
complete its gesture…
so much is in bud.

Here is what I know
and I am guessing you know it too.
Whether you are 97
or 65
or 15 or 40…so much is in bud.

Whether you are vigorous
or hindered
or struggling
or dying
so much is in bud.

The life God gave us
has to breathe
to live.
That same life
must love
to know it is alive.

Love is our breath
upon the ember
that empowers us
at whatever age
or condition
or strength
or limitation
to see hope in bud.

There are times,
for all of us,
when we feel shrouded in hopelessness.

They tend to be times
when what
we wanted
and what
we thought should happen
and what
we expected
disintegrated before our eyes.
But hope lives out beyond self-interest
which is where we must look
to see it in bud
or even blooming.

Heck, hope can bloom
in front of our faces
and all we can see
is the potential for allergies.
But it can also appear
in the slightest bud
peeking up from the mulch
or at the end of a brown twig
and we see it and shout for joy.
The question on Easter day
is not what we believe
but what we know
and if we have allowed ourselves
to keep loving
and so keep knowing hope.

They are connected, you know?
Love and hope.
One does not live without the other
and so we must keep loving
and keep hoping
so long as we breathe.

Have we allowed ourselves
to be vulnerable enough
to hope?
Have we allowed ourselves
the risk
to love?
Have we allowed ourselves
to feed the life within us with love?
Even new love in old age?
Even more love
at moments of great
limitation?
Even love at times of expected endings?
To love one more time,
one more person
one more way?
That is when hope is in bud.

I don’t know about THE resurrection
because I wasn’t there.

But I know about resurrection
and it is even clearer than climate change
that we live in a resurrection universe —
an entire Cosmos
composed of intricate
inter-dependent relationships
in which no energy is ever lost
but rather, transformed.

No love
once truly loved
is ever lost — only transformed.
No hope once known
in its trues form
is ever lost — only transformed.
We live in a resurrection universe
whether we believe it or not,
so the question for us
is whether we can see it
in bud
or know it in blooming.

Happy Easter.