Feast of the Resurrection for our times

At a time like this, there are wars and rumours of wars. The international body of law has no sway in the conduct of national affairs. 

This is a time of the loudmouthed, the powerful; and nations speak, act and form alliances with those who can advance their own national will.

The promises of our world since 1945 — the institutions set up then to assure nations would never go to war again but instead pursue peace and the comity of nations — have faltered. 

Small nations no longer matter. We are back to rule by the jackboot of the powerful. South Africa has been a victim of just such a season of bullying of smaller nations. Dark clouds are gathering. Some even talk openly about the inevitability of the Third World War.

We can at least rejoice, as South Africans, that our Constitution guarantees not only freedom of religion but also freedom of thought, belief and opinion. Above all, the Bill of Rights guarantees that those who belong to religious or cultural groups may not be denied the right, with other members of that community, to enjoy their culture, practise their religion and form and join associations with like-minded religious communities.

On Palm Sunday, a disturbing historic event occurred. The Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem and the Custos of the Holy See of the Holy Land were prevented by Israeli police from attending the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem to celebrate Mass. 

They were stopped en route to the church and compelled to turn away from their spiritual obligations under force of arms. 

In Iran, 160 schoolchildren were killed by Israeli missiles targeted at their school and, without a formal declaration of war, three generations of religious leaders of Iran have been murdered. 

The world is on the brink of war. Reactions are muted and no outrage has been expressed by world leaders. At a time like this, there is no sympathy for the underdog.

Easter or the Feast of the Resurrection, is the oldest and greatest festival in the calendar of the Christian church. 

Next to it is the Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord, or Christmas. But Christmas has become heavily commercialised and its Christian symbolism is bound to be lost. 

Easter holds sway largely through its deliberate spiritual connotations and discipline. It is preceded by the season of Lent, which means that for six weeks, beginning on Ash Wednesday, Christians commit themselves to spiritual discipline: fasting, prayer, study of the Bible and undertaking good deeds. 

The season culminates with a week of observing and sharing the Passion of Christ along the Via Dolorosa. On Maundy Thursday there is the Last Supper, the trial of Jesus and on Friday the crucifixion. 

This is considered the most solemn occasion for believers, who re-enact the brutality and cruelty that so many suffer in an unjust world.

The mystery of Easter is the Resurrection, by which hope is restored and trust in the promises of the living God is sustained — the great reversal of human fortunes. 

In other words, Easter is more than just the day of the Resurrection because, without Good Friday, there would be no Resurrection. 

The Resurrection of Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ is a process preceded by Lent — a time of spiritual preparation for when God intervenes symbolically in human affairs.

It is important to note that this system of belief was unique in its time. It established a new community of believers who were avowed followers of a man called Jesus of Nazareth

This Jesus was a shaman, an itinerant preacher, a healer. However, he attracted the anger of the establishment in the temple — the leaders and the rabbis, the custodians of the law.

He was not known to be trained or learned in the law and the prophets, yet he was able to attract a following.

Of much more concern, perhaps, is that this community gathered around Jesus was operating in a subversive manner. They met in unusual places, not in the temple or synagogue; they were made up largely of common people who had no standing in society. 

It was noticeable that, increasingly, the teachings of Jesus undermined the received teachings of the rabbis and scholars of the law: he did not obey the letter of the law; he healed the sick even when it was forbidden to do so on the Sabbath; and he exuded authority, though it was unclear where he received it and by what authority. 

In other words, he possessed no recognised credentials to do what he was doing. He had the audacity to debate and contradict the learned. It is fair to say, then, that to the authorities — in the synagogues, temple and society — he was posing a security risk.

It is worth noting that Jesus’s teachings both incorporated and went beyond the orthodox teachings of his time. He pardoned sinners and did not condemn them. 

Judaism did not have a theory of resurrection or forgiveness in this sense. At best, Judaism knew the God of retribution and wrath. It was not normal for the dead to be brought to life, as in the story of Lazarus. 

God’s presence was known by God’s retributive power and forgiveness was not the ordinary way by which God made Godself known. The worst and most unforgivable idea was that Jesus of Nazareth could define himself as the Son of God. 

The belief in Judaism was that God would restore all creation as an eschatological imperative, when God would then restore the godly order with those who are the righteous elect. The hope of the elect was in the restoration of the divine ordinance at the end of time.

It is important to make the point that the idea of the Resurrection was, for the reasons stated above, a strange one to Judaism, though from some eclectic sources there was evidence of suppressed social and philosophical teachings.

It is not surprising, therefore, that modern readings of the Biblical faith must be undertaken with an eye of faith. The Resurrection is not an event in time that is observable.

Testimonies of the Resurrection in the four Gospels fall far short of asserting an objective, physical or observable bodily rising from the dead, as was the case in the prophet Ezekiel 37 or in the case of Lazarus.

Instead, we are presented with unusual interpretations, such as the empty tomb. The appearances themselves are not always physical — as when the risen Christ appeared on the road to Emmaus, or entered a closed room before the disciples, and ultimately to Thomas, whom he invited to touch him. 

However, there were also miraculous happenings. The Great Commission in Matthew 28 is thought to be the greatest demonstration of the Resurrection: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations … And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

The lesson and preaching of the Resurrection is an important endeavour. It is to venture beyond the known, touching on the deeper reaches of being human. 

It is the idea that truth does not lie in power and might; it resides in the capacity of humanity to reclaim its own humanity, whatever the odds.

It also states that knowledge and being do not depend only on physical attributes, influence or even abstract thought and intelligence but equally on how humanity exercises its critical faculties to make judgments about the world that surrounds us.

Secondly, recognising that the event of the Resurrection is spiritual by nature and mystical, there must also be recognition not just of mystery but of the mysterious ways in which God dwells within the hearts of men and women. That indwelling under God lends itself to ethical judgment on all that we see around us. 

It is, in itself, an exercise in judgment — a faculty we are always called upon to exercise because it is essential to decision-making. I cite the words of Rowan Williams, former Archbishop of Canterbury, who writes in his book Resurrection (1982:11): “Preaching the Resurrection … is an invitation to recognise one’s victim as one’s hope.”

When we recognise victims, we are endowed with empathy, a crucial element of ubuntu, without which we are not human.

Thirdly, the late New Testament scholar C.F. Evans argued that Resurrection faith is a call to assurance and hope. It marks the possibility of a new beginning — that nothing is simply at an end. In other words, writes Evans, “within the temporal order of being, a new beginning of life from God and living under God, is possible” (1983:503). 

It is possible to anticipate that which, under God, is assured and by which God acts through the agency of others. Humanity is a creature of God and is bound to conduct itself in a godly and divine way.

What Christianity is confident about is that God’s grace is universal and cannot ultimately be withheld by human action. “This,” says Evans, “is cosmic in scope and reaches to the depths of human life and well-being.”

That assurance has propelled me to devote my life to resisting oppression and fighting injustice. It also means that one must pronounce judgment on evil in the world and condemn those who pervert the purposes of God. 

I am adamant that the prophetic calling requires that we pronounce judgment on the world. 

One dares not remain silent in the face of the intolerable dehumanisation and genocide of the people of Palestine, which has led us to the brink of a world war.

Nor should men and women of faith remain silent as truth is distorted to advance the purposes of the powerful. The Resurrection is a call back to God.

Christ is risen.

He is risen indeed. Alleluia!

N Barney Pityana is the provincial canon of the Anglican Church of Southern Africa  and retired principal and vice-chancellor of the University of South Africa.