Acts 9:1-6
March 18, 2010
Meanwhile Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem. Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?’ He asked, ‘Who are you, Lord?’ The reply came, ‘I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.’
I want you imagine for a moment that you are Paul, or Saul, as he was known at the time of his conversion experience. You are a highly trained rabbi. For most of your life you have been considered brilliant, and your family in Tarsus (a port city in the southeast of modern-day Turkey) had sent you to Jerusalem to be trained as a rabbi. You have studied with the greatest Jewish minds of the time, and you are zealous for your faith. You are very aware of potential threats to the Jewish faith, and you recognize that this new movement, The Way (which was the name for Christianity in its early years), is a genuine threat. The Jews following the teachings of this supposedly resurrected Jesus are winning converts from traditional Judaism, and especially from your own tradition, the Pharisees.
You’ve already done what you can to stamp out this movement in Jerusalem. For example, you were an approving participant in the stoning to death of Stephen, a man who was preaching this gospel of Christ, and who had attracted a number of converts. You didn’t take part in the actual stoning, but you did watch everyone’s cloaks during the stoning so that they wouldn’t be stolen.
So you get permission from the Sanhedrin, the very council that arrested and tried Jesus on charges of blasphemy several years before, to travel to Damascus, find these followers of The Way, and to bring them back in chains to stand trial in Jerusalem. You are on the road to Damascus, and you feel powerful. You know you are right and righteous. You know that you are doing God's will in defending Judaism and the law. As you travel to Damascus, you feel confident. You smile to yourself at how pleased both God and the Jewish authorities will be with you. Suddenly an excruciatingly bright light blinds you. And you hear a voice: "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" In that moment you find out that most of what you had believed in was wrong. You find out that you have not been serving God, but you've been persecuting God and God's followers. How do you deal with knowing that you’ve been tragically and devastatingly wrong?
Let me put that question to you today? How well do you deal with finding out that you were wrong? Do you ever even put yourself into a position to find out whether or not you are wrong about what you believe? Or are you always right?
I’m going to say something that may be a bit controversial—not in a political way, but in a faith way. Basically, I believe that the secret to having a really deep faith is finding out that we are all wrong. In fact, Christianity is a faith of wrongness. What do I mean? I’m saying that the stronger our absolute beliefs are, the more likely it is that we are wrong. If this story about Paul teaches us anything, it teaches us that.
Let me take a step back and explain what I mean. Let’s look at Paul as our guide. Paul had a basic psychology that is part of so many religious people’s psychology. So many of us have a basic need for certainty, clarity, and stability. We don't like the unknown. We don't like the feeling that we don't really know what will happen to us when we die. We don't like the feeling of not knowing for certain whether or not we are saved. So we turn that uncertainty on its head and seek out certainty. We create a theological system that assures us of our salvation, as well as of God’s approval.
The problem is that this certainty is always somewhat false. The need to be certain comes out of a basic spiritual insecurity. If we are at all honest with ourselves, we all know that we have this insecurity working in us. We all have a need to be sure of our salvation, of our view of the way the universe works, and of what God wants of us. It’s this need to sure and right that’s given rise to every branch of Christianity. The fact is that each denomination, sect, or movement of Christianity is an attempt to be right. It doesn't always start out that way. Often a movement in Christianity starts out as an attempt to correct a problem, such as the Protestant movement in the 16th century. That was an attempt to correct a flawed theology that said that the power to be saved is up to church, and if we give money to the church, that assures us of our salvation. The Protestant movement was trying to move people back to a faith based on God's love and grace, not on works. But very quickly people identified with their own movement. Soon the Lutherans felt they were saved and no others. The Calvinists felt they were saved and no others. The Mennonites felt they were saved and no others. This continues today. So often the newer movements of Christianity are convinced that they are saved, and not others. Their belief doesn't emerge out of confidence. It emerges out of spiritual insecurity. And that leads to actions like Saul's, who felt he had to stamp out any movement that could lead to doubt among the faithful.
I struggle with people who need to be right, but that’s probably because I am part of a tradition that doesn’t worry so much about rightness. Rather, it worries about relationships—with God and with others. I consider myself to be part of the mystical tradition of Christianity, which has the distinction of being the only movement of Christianity that has never really cared about being right. This does not mean I'm not a Presbyterian. I am that, too. I'm a Presbyterian because I believe it is the right tradition for me. The combination of Presbyterianism's focus on using the intellect in faith, and on the freedom to seek God in our own way, is powerful for me. But I'm also part of the mystical tradition, which has always cared much more on how to form a strong relationship with God rather than on trying to be right. I've followed it because I believe it is a tradition that leads to a much more mature faith. Let me give you an example of what I mean by sharing with you some thoughts of great mystics of the past, thoughts that really reflect a mature faith, the kind that Paul learned after his experience of Christ.
David Steindl-Rast, a Dominican monk, who wrote a wonderful book, Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer, says, "To have faith does not primarily mean believing something, but rather believing in someone. Faith is trust. It takes courage to trust. The opposite of faith is not disbelief, but distrust, fear. Fear makes us cling to anything within reach. Fear clings even to beliefs. Thus, beliefs can even get in the way of faith. In genuine faith we hold our beliefs firmly, but lightly. We trust in God, not in our particular understanding of God. That is why people of deep faith are one at heart, even thought their beliefs may differ widely. When beliefs become more important than faith, even small differences create insurmountable barriers."
Look at this passage, and see what phrases stand out for you. Several are important to me. For instance, he says that faith means believing in someone rather than in something. To me this is a huge difference from the way so many Christians think. So often our faith is in particular beliefs about God rather than in God. Our faith is in beliefs about how the world works, about how we should be, and about how God should be. Steindl-Rast is saying that our faith really is in God as God is, not as we want God to be. This is a major statement because we often develop a faith rooted in what and who we think God is, not in God as God really is. We tend to recreate God in our image, believing that God values what we value, believes in what we believe in, and acts the way we want God to act. We form an image of God, and develop a faith based on that image. Steindl-Rast is telling us that a real faith is in God as God is, which means a faith in God who is a mystery to us. And when we trust in God as God is, not as we want God to be, then we are truly having faith in God. It's a result of this that we learn to hold our faith firmly, but lightly, knowing that we could be wrong about much we believe in about God.
Forming a faith in God as God is is much like a marriage. If you are married, how well do you really understand your spouse? And what is it that you love about your spouse? Is it your understanding of your spouse, or your spouse her- or himself? Real love is not in what we believe about our spouses, but in our spouses? If you focus too much on trying to figure out your spouse, or in trying to recreate your spouse, it actually kills your relationship.
Let me share with you another quote that comes from C.S. Lewis, from his great book, The Great Divorce. The book is about the afterlife, and about people in Hell who are able to take trips to heaven. When they get there, family members and others often meet them in heaven, and they try to convince them to believe in God and to join them in heaven. We get to witness one spirit, the brother of a woman, who is trying to convince her to join him in heaven and to discover how wonderful it is. She is reluctant because she is still angry at God for the premature death of her son. The spirit of her brother tries to tell her that much of what she believes about God was wrong, and that if she would accept God’s love as it is, she would discover how happy her son is now. And here's what we hear of the exchange. She says,
“Oh, of course. I’m wrong. Everything I say or do is wrong, according to you.”
“But of course!” said the Spirit, shining with love and mirth so that my eyes were dazzled. “That’s what we all find when we reach this country. We’ve all been wrong! That’s the great joke. There’s no need to go on pretending one was right! After that we begin living.”
This is such a great quote because in it Lewis communicates an idea that Saul had to learn, which is that much of what we believe is true isn't necessarily true, and that we often are so wrong about God—God's intentions, God's love, and God's presence in our lives. We argue so much in life about what's right and what's wrong, and what Lewis is telling us is that whenever we get to the point where we accept with humility that much of what we believe in is wrong, we get to the point at which we are truly able to form a deep relationship with God as God is. In other words, when we hold our beliefs, but accept the possibility that they are wrong, that’s the point at which we start to become seriously open to God.
John Calvin also talked about this difficulty in knowing what is ultimately right in a very famous phrase of his. He said, “In essentials unity. In non-essentials liberty. In all things charity.” What’s interesting about this statement is that Calvin never quite listed what the essentials were. He recognized that there were some beliefs that Christians should hold dear as essential beliefs of our faith, but he knew that if he made a list of them, people would then use these beliefs as weapons against each other. He left it to us to get a determine together what the essentials should be, and he thought that list should be somewhat small. I believe that he would say that belief in one God, in the goodness of God’s grace, in the Trinity, Christ’s death and resurrection, and the power of the Holy Spirit would all be essentials. After that, there are many things we can disagree about, for example about the virgin birth, Jesus’ miracles, and some of the laws of the Old Testament. His belief was that if we disagree, we should have the liberty to disagree and not hold each other to absolutes. And he expresses this in his last phrase, “in all things charity.” He is saying that because we don’t always know truth, we should treat each other with charity and love when we are in disagreement over beliefs.
Finally, I want to share with you something that was said to me by a professor of mine at Duquesne University. Her name is Carolyn Gratton, and she told us one day in class that, “the mistake most people make is in thinking that as we grow spiritually, we are able to live more in certainty. What we find is that in reality we become more and more comfortable with ambiguity.” I think these words are profound, for they speak a deep truth. People of deep faith find that as they grow in faith, they are more accepting of the world as it is, people as they are, and God as God is. They become more comfortable with God as a mystery, and of our beliefs as providing only limited help in understanding that mystery.
Ultimately, all of these mystics remind us that what matters is not rightness or righteousness, but relationships. So, if a relationship with God is the key, what’s the role of belief? Theological beliefs guide us to a better relationship with God and each other. They give us pointers. They help explain our experiences, and they teach us how to forge a stronger relationship with God.
What Paul found in his experience was that before experiencing Christ, he was always right because he had the right belief. He was always right because he always did the right thing according to the law. He always believed in the right things according to scripture. Yet his experience of Christ led him to discover how wrong he was in his rightness. It taught him to relax his grip on his beliefs, and to make room for a relationship with God through Christ. He let go of his belief in law so that he could make room for love.
Where are you when it comes to beliefs? Are you always right, or do you reserve the right to be wrong. The test of our beliefs, in the end, is whether they lead us to love God, or to love something else
Amen.
"Re" Words
John 20:1-23
April 4, 2010 (Easter Sunday)
Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, ‘They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.’ Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went towards the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes.
But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’ She said to them, ‘They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.’ When she had said this, she turned round and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?’ Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.’ Jesus said to her, ‘Mary!’ She turned and said to him in Hebrew, ‘Rabbouni!’ (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, ‘Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” ’ Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord’; and she told them that he had said these things to her.
When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’ When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.’
Have you ever had one of those “Aha!” moments, a moment that seems to pull back the curtain on life and helps you to really understand what life is about? I’m not talking about just a time when you figured something out, or finally understood a difficult concept, like a time when you figured out how a mathematical formula worked; when you understood how to cook everything so it all is finished at the same time; or when you understood how a car engine worked. I’m talking about a time in which it seems like God entered your brain and helped you understand God, the universe, and yourself.
I’ve had a number of them over the years. The very first one I had, embarrassingly enough, came at age 18 while I was going to the bathroom. I was just sitting there,… uh,… with nothing better to do than think. And for some reason I was thinking about life and why everything was the way it was. And suddenly, in an instant, I had a sense of the unity of everything. I had this “aha!” moment in which I realized that despite all the difficulties in the world, the world was still in God’s hands. I had this sense that nothing could be so wrong that God wasn’t at the center making things good. In that moment I realized that I didn’t have to always be consumed with fears about nuclear war, violence, poverty, the stock market, Armageddon, and my future. God was going to make everything okay. God is everywhere, everything is infused with God’s Spirit, and everything’s okay. That insight has stayed with me, and it changed the way I approached my life.
These kinds of insights are rare, but when we have them they have the power to change how we live our lives. I had one of those “aha!” moments last week that gave me an incredible insight into the nature of Christianity. And the “aha!” all had to do with the resurrection. I was driving along, not even thinking about Easter or the resurrection. I think that I was only thinking about a friend’s relationship with his wife, and wondering if they would eventually have a reconciliation. From there I began to think about a rebirth of their relationship, and I realized that all three of these words began with “re.” That led me to think about the resurrection, and an insight came to me in a rush. What’s the insight? I realized that the resurrection wasn’t just about Jesus coming back to life, but that the resurrection explained completely God’s nature. Simply put, I realized that God has a fascination with “re” words, and that God’s nature is to “re.”
What am I talking about? I realized that almost every major concept in Christianity has to do with the simple prefix, “re”, which means “anew” or “afresh.” When it comes to the world and to us, God it seems to give God pleasure to see renewal, revival, and reinvigoration. The center of Christianity is resurrection, which means bringing about life from death, possibility from nothingness, and fullness from emptiness. Out of resurrection comes to possibility of other “re” words, such as:
• Redemption, which means achieving a new possibility from what was lost.
• Reconciliation—the healing of a relationship with God or another that was broken.
• Rebirth—a new way of life that is filled with the spiritual.
• Repentance—owning up to our faults and giving them to God.
• Renewal—being made afresh.
• Restoration—getting back what was once lost or taken away from us.
• Recovery—in addiction terms, obtaining once again a life full of hope and potential.
• Reassurance—the knowledge that God is with us no matter what
• Responding to God’s grace, which eventually leads us to Christian responsibility
• Receive—to accept God’s grace and Spirit in our lives
• Revival—to experience a renewed vitality to our lives because we have spent time in:
o Reflection—taking time for prayer and listening to God’s voice; and
o Retreat—taking time away from the hurry of life to attend to God.
• Reform—the process of transforming our lives to that they become new in God’s way.
• Religion—the practice of traditions and rituals that open us up to God.
• Respect—treating others with love and compassion, even enemies.
I certainly don’t want to give the impression that if a word begins with “re,” then God is automatically interested in it. For example, I’m not sure that God cares that much about refinancing, although I suppose if it makes our lives better, God would be in favor of it. Also, I don’t know how much God cares about referees, other than to say that God loves them just like God loves people in general. I don’t think God is all that interested in rebuttals, especially immature ones that have to do with trying to prove that God doesn’t exist. I don’t know that God cares that much about rebellions, although I suppose that God does care about rebellions against those who want to keep people from God. I’m pretty sure that God isn’t that interested in rebates. And when it comes to regurgitation, I’d say that God’s interest in it only has to do with wanting us to be healthy.
I was reminded of all these “re” words this week in remembering a strange but interesting encounter I had three years ago in Pittsburgh. I was teaching a weeklong class at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, and, as is my custom, I teach in the morning, and then have the students do exercises until late afternoon, after which we come back together for discussion. During their times alone or in groups doing the exercises, I tend to sit in a coffee shop in Highland Park called Tassa D’oro and do work.
So there I was sitting in the coffee shop, and I kept overhearing the conversation at the next table, which was filled with some rough-looking, older men. The conversation was kind of strange because I kept hearing a combination of foul language and theological concepts. In other words, I would hear things like this: “Yeah, and when I was bleeping saved, I discovered God’s grace working all through my bleeping life.” Unfortunaely, they weren’t using the word “bleeping.” Their word-choice was saltier. After a while, I couldn’t help but lean over and ask them what they were doing. One of them, Joe Bellante, said, in a very Italian, mafioso, Godfather-style voice, “We’re having a Bible study.” I then told them I was a pastor, and Joe said to me that he was a pastor, too. Then another man, Sal Greco, told me that Joe’s life was an amazing story, and that he had once been part of the Pittsburgh mafia. I started to ask questions, at which point Sal pulled out a book titled, Left for Dead, which he said was a book he wrote about Joe’s conversion from a mafia collector and enforcer to a Christian and a pastor. He gave me the book, which both he and Joe signed. Joe’s story is a fascinating one, and it’s one that reflects all those “re” words I spoke about.
What changed Joe was sitting in a hospital bed for weeks on end after having been shot by one of his good friends, Santo. It was back in 1972, and Santo had gotten some bad information that Joe had been paid to kill Santo. To keep Joe from killing him, Santo called up Joe and asked him to help him collect money from someone who had borrowed from the mob and wasn’t paying up. Joe agreed, and met Santo in East Liberty. Joe followed Santo’s car, driving through Point Breeze, onto Penn Hills, and eventually to a deserted lot in a wooded area near some buildings. Santo stopped his car and walked back to Joe, motioning for him to wind down his window. As Joe did so, Santo pulled out a gun and shot Joe twice—once in the face and once in the throat. He tried a third shot, but his gun jammed. He saw the headlights of an approaching car, turned and ran to his car, and peeled out of the lot. Joe laid there in a pool of blood, already plotting his revenge. As he lay there, fighting to stay conscious, two men ran up to his car. They said they were FBI agents and asked Joe to tell them who shot him. Joe wouldn’t tell them, mainly because he believed in the mafia code of omerta, which is that you don’t rat on the mob, even if it means your own death. After Joe refused, the agents told Joe that help was on the way, and they sped away to find Santo.
Joe was rushed to the hospital, where surgeons worked on him for six hours. Lying in the hospital room, he had a lot of time to think. He worried that Santo would try to kill him there, but eventually concluded that there were too many police and FBI agents around. He fantasized about how he would get revenge, but interspersed with those thoughts were reflections on his life and how he lived it. As he reflected, he slowly came to the realization that he had not lived as God had wanted him to live.
He thought back to his childhood, and about how his life of crime had started early. He remembered at age twelve coming up with a scheme to rip off money from the owner of a corner newspaper store for whom he worked. All week, after school, Joe would sell papers, placing the money in a big bucket. On Friday afternoons, the owner, Smitty, would collect the money. So Joe and his friend Vinnie came up with a plan. Late on Friday afternoon, before Smitty came by, Vinnie would come by the stand and Joe would give him the money. Vinnie would then hit Joe with his fist to leave a red mark on his face. Then Joe would tell Smitty that two big teenagers had ripped him off.
It worked so well that the next week they did it again, but to make it look more realistic, Vinnie hit Joe over the head with a stick, leaving a large, tangible bump. Afterwards Joe told Vinnie that he thought they should change the split of the money from 50/50 to 60/40 in Joe’s favor because Joe was suffering all the physical pain. The third week Vinnie hit Joe with a brick, leaving a cut. At this point, Smitty caught on and fired Joe.
As Joe got older, he engaged in more schemes so that by the time he was in his early twenties he was a skilled racketeer. Joe also saw himself as a tough guy. He lifted weights for two hours every day, and all through school he had made it a practice each year to pick a fight with the toughest guy in school, all so that he could be seen as the toughest.
He was hired by the mob in his early twenties to become a collector and enforcer, which meant that he would go out and collect money from people who had borrowed from the mob and hadn’t paid it back. It always surprised Joe that people would think that the mob would forget a loan. Joe’s visits to them typically involved breaking their fingers and arms, threatening them with death, or threatening their families until they found the money. It was interesting that people who said they didn’t have the money usually came up with the money within 24 hours after being hurt or threatened.
Joe became very successful in his career, mainly because he was a principled mobster. He never had more than one drink per night, always kept his nose clean, and exercised religiously. He also gained a reputation for being very effective. The book says that Joe collected from some very well-known Pittsburgh figures from the 1960s and early 1970s, including a prominent DJ, a successful businessman, and others. He collected from the DJ by throwing the man all over the room, and from the businessman by hanging him outside his window by the feet.
Joe’s lifestyle was very strange. He lived on steaks, canolis, veal parmegian, and pie. He drove cadillacs and wore expensive suits, but also paid for everything in cash. When sitting in a restaurant, Joe would always take a corner table and sit with his back to the wall so that he could see every entrance, exit, and window. Joe had to be suspicious of everyone, but at the same time had to show that he was never afraid.
Sitting in his hospital bed, day after day, he thought about his life and what it all meant. He wondered what God wanted him to do. When he was finally released from the hospital, he tried to go back to his life of crime, but he couldn’t. Eventually he went to his mob boss and asked to be released from he mob. In a moment of what could only be seen as God’s grace, the boss agreed. No one ever leaves the mob alive. But Joe did.
From there he turned his life around. He became involved in church and in ministry to at-risk teens. He coached football and baseball for Peabody High School. His first marriage ended, but he remarried to a woman who was instrumental in helping him turn his life around. Eventually, he became ordained as an Assemblies of God pastor, and now serves as the chaplain for the Peabody High School football team. And hundreds of Pittsburgh inner-city kids owe their lives to Joe, having had their lives turned around because of his influence. Joe is also part of a weekly Bible-study at Tasso D’oro in Pittsburgh.
Let me finish by telling you what happened to Joe and Santo. About fifteen years later he received a phone call from Santo, who wanted to meet. He wanted to come to Joe’s house. Joe said okay, and then told his wife to take the kids and be away for a couple of hours, and to call before coming back home. Santo showed up at the appointed time, and they met on the front porch. Santo asked to come in. Joe was extremely nervous, but showing no fear invited Santo in. Joe got Santo a beer. Then Santo started talking, all the while Joe wondered when he would pull out his gun and shoot Joe.
He told Joe about how he shot him because he thought Joe was out to hit him. He realized later that he had gotten bad information. He then spent time in prison, and had just been released. Joe told Santo that he had wanted to get revenge, and that he had actually tracked Santo to his hiding-place at his mother’s house. He told him that at one point he had a gun in his hand, and saw Santo through the window eating dinner, but when it came time to shoot he couldn’t. Soon afterwards he changed his life.
He then told Santo that he forgave him, and that in a funny way if Santo hadn’t hot Joe, Joe never would have found God. Paradoxically Santo’s attempt to kill Joe had saved Joe. Joe had been resurrected. He said to Santo that he forgave him because he knew that God had forgiven him, and if God could forgive Joe, then Joe could forgive Santo.
When I think of Joe Bellante’s life, it reminds me that even people who are alive can be resurrected. You see, the point of resurrection isn’t just to give someone life again. It is to give us a renewed life that is transformed and reformed. Jesus was resurrected to show us that life can be recreated in a way that frees us from being restricted by the laws of nature. He came back to show us that if we are ready to repent and to receive God’s grace, like Joe Bellante, we can become revived—literally given a renewed life. But the key to this resurrection is both realizing we need it, and repenting so that we can receive it.
Christianity is always about resurrection, redemption, reconciliation, revival, rebirth, and renewal. The question for us is whether we are truly open to this kind of resurrection of our lives.
Amen.
April 4, 2010 (Easter Sunday)
Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, ‘They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.’ Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went towards the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes.
But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’ She said to them, ‘They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.’ When she had said this, she turned round and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?’ Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.’ Jesus said to her, ‘Mary!’ She turned and said to him in Hebrew, ‘Rabbouni!’ (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, ‘Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” ’ Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord’; and she told them that he had said these things to her.
When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’ When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.’
Have you ever had one of those “Aha!” moments, a moment that seems to pull back the curtain on life and helps you to really understand what life is about? I’m not talking about just a time when you figured something out, or finally understood a difficult concept, like a time when you figured out how a mathematical formula worked; when you understood how to cook everything so it all is finished at the same time; or when you understood how a car engine worked. I’m talking about a time in which it seems like God entered your brain and helped you understand God, the universe, and yourself.
I’ve had a number of them over the years. The very first one I had, embarrassingly enough, came at age 18 while I was going to the bathroom. I was just sitting there,… uh,… with nothing better to do than think. And for some reason I was thinking about life and why everything was the way it was. And suddenly, in an instant, I had a sense of the unity of everything. I had this “aha!” moment in which I realized that despite all the difficulties in the world, the world was still in God’s hands. I had this sense that nothing could be so wrong that God wasn’t at the center making things good. In that moment I realized that I didn’t have to always be consumed with fears about nuclear war, violence, poverty, the stock market, Armageddon, and my future. God was going to make everything okay. God is everywhere, everything is infused with God’s Spirit, and everything’s okay. That insight has stayed with me, and it changed the way I approached my life.
These kinds of insights are rare, but when we have them they have the power to change how we live our lives. I had one of those “aha!” moments last week that gave me an incredible insight into the nature of Christianity. And the “aha!” all had to do with the resurrection. I was driving along, not even thinking about Easter or the resurrection. I think that I was only thinking about a friend’s relationship with his wife, and wondering if they would eventually have a reconciliation. From there I began to think about a rebirth of their relationship, and I realized that all three of these words began with “re.” That led me to think about the resurrection, and an insight came to me in a rush. What’s the insight? I realized that the resurrection wasn’t just about Jesus coming back to life, but that the resurrection explained completely God’s nature. Simply put, I realized that God has a fascination with “re” words, and that God’s nature is to “re.”
What am I talking about? I realized that almost every major concept in Christianity has to do with the simple prefix, “re”, which means “anew” or “afresh.” When it comes to the world and to us, God it seems to give God pleasure to see renewal, revival, and reinvigoration. The center of Christianity is resurrection, which means bringing about life from death, possibility from nothingness, and fullness from emptiness. Out of resurrection comes to possibility of other “re” words, such as:
• Redemption, which means achieving a new possibility from what was lost.
• Reconciliation—the healing of a relationship with God or another that was broken.
• Rebirth—a new way of life that is filled with the spiritual.
• Repentance—owning up to our faults and giving them to God.
• Renewal—being made afresh.
• Restoration—getting back what was once lost or taken away from us.
• Recovery—in addiction terms, obtaining once again a life full of hope and potential.
• Reassurance—the knowledge that God is with us no matter what
• Responding to God’s grace, which eventually leads us to Christian responsibility
• Receive—to accept God’s grace and Spirit in our lives
• Revival—to experience a renewed vitality to our lives because we have spent time in:
o Reflection—taking time for prayer and listening to God’s voice; and
o Retreat—taking time away from the hurry of life to attend to God.
• Reform—the process of transforming our lives to that they become new in God’s way.
• Religion—the practice of traditions and rituals that open us up to God.
• Respect—treating others with love and compassion, even enemies.
I certainly don’t want to give the impression that if a word begins with “re,” then God is automatically interested in it. For example, I’m not sure that God cares that much about refinancing, although I suppose if it makes our lives better, God would be in favor of it. Also, I don’t know how much God cares about referees, other than to say that God loves them just like God loves people in general. I don’t think God is all that interested in rebuttals, especially immature ones that have to do with trying to prove that God doesn’t exist. I don’t know that God cares that much about rebellions, although I suppose that God does care about rebellions against those who want to keep people from God. I’m pretty sure that God isn’t that interested in rebates. And when it comes to regurgitation, I’d say that God’s interest in it only has to do with wanting us to be healthy.
I was reminded of all these “re” words this week in remembering a strange but interesting encounter I had three years ago in Pittsburgh. I was teaching a weeklong class at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, and, as is my custom, I teach in the morning, and then have the students do exercises until late afternoon, after which we come back together for discussion. During their times alone or in groups doing the exercises, I tend to sit in a coffee shop in Highland Park called Tassa D’oro and do work.
So there I was sitting in the coffee shop, and I kept overhearing the conversation at the next table, which was filled with some rough-looking, older men. The conversation was kind of strange because I kept hearing a combination of foul language and theological concepts. In other words, I would hear things like this: “Yeah, and when I was bleeping saved, I discovered God’s grace working all through my bleeping life.” Unfortunaely, they weren’t using the word “bleeping.” Their word-choice was saltier. After a while, I couldn’t help but lean over and ask them what they were doing. One of them, Joe Bellante, said, in a very Italian, mafioso, Godfather-style voice, “We’re having a Bible study.” I then told them I was a pastor, and Joe said to me that he was a pastor, too. Then another man, Sal Greco, told me that Joe’s life was an amazing story, and that he had once been part of the Pittsburgh mafia. I started to ask questions, at which point Sal pulled out a book titled, Left for Dead, which he said was a book he wrote about Joe’s conversion from a mafia collector and enforcer to a Christian and a pastor. He gave me the book, which both he and Joe signed. Joe’s story is a fascinating one, and it’s one that reflects all those “re” words I spoke about.
What changed Joe was sitting in a hospital bed for weeks on end after having been shot by one of his good friends, Santo. It was back in 1972, and Santo had gotten some bad information that Joe had been paid to kill Santo. To keep Joe from killing him, Santo called up Joe and asked him to help him collect money from someone who had borrowed from the mob and wasn’t paying up. Joe agreed, and met Santo in East Liberty. Joe followed Santo’s car, driving through Point Breeze, onto Penn Hills, and eventually to a deserted lot in a wooded area near some buildings. Santo stopped his car and walked back to Joe, motioning for him to wind down his window. As Joe did so, Santo pulled out a gun and shot Joe twice—once in the face and once in the throat. He tried a third shot, but his gun jammed. He saw the headlights of an approaching car, turned and ran to his car, and peeled out of the lot. Joe laid there in a pool of blood, already plotting his revenge. As he lay there, fighting to stay conscious, two men ran up to his car. They said they were FBI agents and asked Joe to tell them who shot him. Joe wouldn’t tell them, mainly because he believed in the mafia code of omerta, which is that you don’t rat on the mob, even if it means your own death. After Joe refused, the agents told Joe that help was on the way, and they sped away to find Santo.
Joe was rushed to the hospital, where surgeons worked on him for six hours. Lying in the hospital room, he had a lot of time to think. He worried that Santo would try to kill him there, but eventually concluded that there were too many police and FBI agents around. He fantasized about how he would get revenge, but interspersed with those thoughts were reflections on his life and how he lived it. As he reflected, he slowly came to the realization that he had not lived as God had wanted him to live.
He thought back to his childhood, and about how his life of crime had started early. He remembered at age twelve coming up with a scheme to rip off money from the owner of a corner newspaper store for whom he worked. All week, after school, Joe would sell papers, placing the money in a big bucket. On Friday afternoons, the owner, Smitty, would collect the money. So Joe and his friend Vinnie came up with a plan. Late on Friday afternoon, before Smitty came by, Vinnie would come by the stand and Joe would give him the money. Vinnie would then hit Joe with his fist to leave a red mark on his face. Then Joe would tell Smitty that two big teenagers had ripped him off.
It worked so well that the next week they did it again, but to make it look more realistic, Vinnie hit Joe over the head with a stick, leaving a large, tangible bump. Afterwards Joe told Vinnie that he thought they should change the split of the money from 50/50 to 60/40 in Joe’s favor because Joe was suffering all the physical pain. The third week Vinnie hit Joe with a brick, leaving a cut. At this point, Smitty caught on and fired Joe.
As Joe got older, he engaged in more schemes so that by the time he was in his early twenties he was a skilled racketeer. Joe also saw himself as a tough guy. He lifted weights for two hours every day, and all through school he had made it a practice each year to pick a fight with the toughest guy in school, all so that he could be seen as the toughest.
He was hired by the mob in his early twenties to become a collector and enforcer, which meant that he would go out and collect money from people who had borrowed from the mob and hadn’t paid it back. It always surprised Joe that people would think that the mob would forget a loan. Joe’s visits to them typically involved breaking their fingers and arms, threatening them with death, or threatening their families until they found the money. It was interesting that people who said they didn’t have the money usually came up with the money within 24 hours after being hurt or threatened.
Joe became very successful in his career, mainly because he was a principled mobster. He never had more than one drink per night, always kept his nose clean, and exercised religiously. He also gained a reputation for being very effective. The book says that Joe collected from some very well-known Pittsburgh figures from the 1960s and early 1970s, including a prominent DJ, a successful businessman, and others. He collected from the DJ by throwing the man all over the room, and from the businessman by hanging him outside his window by the feet.
Joe’s lifestyle was very strange. He lived on steaks, canolis, veal parmegian, and pie. He drove cadillacs and wore expensive suits, but also paid for everything in cash. When sitting in a restaurant, Joe would always take a corner table and sit with his back to the wall so that he could see every entrance, exit, and window. Joe had to be suspicious of everyone, but at the same time had to show that he was never afraid.
Sitting in his hospital bed, day after day, he thought about his life and what it all meant. He wondered what God wanted him to do. When he was finally released from the hospital, he tried to go back to his life of crime, but he couldn’t. Eventually he went to his mob boss and asked to be released from he mob. In a moment of what could only be seen as God’s grace, the boss agreed. No one ever leaves the mob alive. But Joe did.
From there he turned his life around. He became involved in church and in ministry to at-risk teens. He coached football and baseball for Peabody High School. His first marriage ended, but he remarried to a woman who was instrumental in helping him turn his life around. Eventually, he became ordained as an Assemblies of God pastor, and now serves as the chaplain for the Peabody High School football team. And hundreds of Pittsburgh inner-city kids owe their lives to Joe, having had their lives turned around because of his influence. Joe is also part of a weekly Bible-study at Tasso D’oro in Pittsburgh.
Let me finish by telling you what happened to Joe and Santo. About fifteen years later he received a phone call from Santo, who wanted to meet. He wanted to come to Joe’s house. Joe said okay, and then told his wife to take the kids and be away for a couple of hours, and to call before coming back home. Santo showed up at the appointed time, and they met on the front porch. Santo asked to come in. Joe was extremely nervous, but showing no fear invited Santo in. Joe got Santo a beer. Then Santo started talking, all the while Joe wondered when he would pull out his gun and shoot Joe.
He told Joe about how he shot him because he thought Joe was out to hit him. He realized later that he had gotten bad information. He then spent time in prison, and had just been released. Joe told Santo that he had wanted to get revenge, and that he had actually tracked Santo to his hiding-place at his mother’s house. He told him that at one point he had a gun in his hand, and saw Santo through the window eating dinner, but when it came time to shoot he couldn’t. Soon afterwards he changed his life.
He then told Santo that he forgave him, and that in a funny way if Santo hadn’t hot Joe, Joe never would have found God. Paradoxically Santo’s attempt to kill Joe had saved Joe. Joe had been resurrected. He said to Santo that he forgave him because he knew that God had forgiven him, and if God could forgive Joe, then Joe could forgive Santo.
When I think of Joe Bellante’s life, it reminds me that even people who are alive can be resurrected. You see, the point of resurrection isn’t just to give someone life again. It is to give us a renewed life that is transformed and reformed. Jesus was resurrected to show us that life can be recreated in a way that frees us from being restricted by the laws of nature. He came back to show us that if we are ready to repent and to receive God’s grace, like Joe Bellante, we can become revived—literally given a renewed life. But the key to this resurrection is both realizing we need it, and repenting so that we can receive it.
Christianity is always about resurrection, redemption, reconciliation, revival, rebirth, and renewal. The question for us is whether we are truly open to this kind of resurrection of our lives.
Amen.
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