On the church calendar we have now moved beyond the expectancy of Advent, and the 12 days of Christmas, and now we skip 30 years to Jesus' baptism at the beginning of his ministry.

I poked around the baptism stories trying to make sense of their differences. Mark talks about John the Baptist's ministry in fulfillment of Isaiah's prophecy, how John proclaimed that one even greater than John was coming soon, about Jesus going to be baptized, about the voice from heaven blessing Jesus, and then immediately the Spirit leading Jesus into the wilderness to be tempted. The Matthew account we read this morning adds detail of John's attack on the Pharisees and Sadducees; for Matthew there is not only a voice from heaven but God's spirit like a dove alighting on him. Luke gives us a date -- the fifteenth year of the emperor Tiberius. In Luke, John the Baptist's harsh words are directed to the crowds rather than the Pharisees and Sadducees and John gives a sermon on how to live ethically. Luke presents Jesus as the judge who will sort the wheat from the chaff and throw the chaff into everlasting fire. The Gospel of John tells us of John the Baptist, but leaves out the baptism of Jesus. In John's Gospel, the Baptist tells two of his disciples, "Look, here is the Lamb of God," and these two disciples, Andrew and Simon Peter, become disciples of Jesus.

While pondering these differences it occurred to me that the most important thing is what all these stories have in common. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, despite all their differences, wrote from an Easter perspective.

They wrote from an Easter perspective because Jesus' life meant something to them. In fact, they found in his life such love and inspiration that it meant the world to them. St. Paul had not known Jesus in his earthly life; for Paul it was enough that Jesus had died on our behalf. But for the authors of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, it was important to convey something of what this man Jesus had been like, because he had meant to much.

They wrote from an Easter perspective because Jesus' life was complete. As an earthly life, it was over, and had been for three or more decades when they wrote. They could look out at the entire panorama of Jesus' life from beginning to end, and know that Jesus had been faithful to the very end, despite the betrayal, the trial, the tortured walk carrying the cross, the agonizing death on Golgotha, and the burial in a hillside tomb.

Others have been inspired by that faithfulness. When I was younger, one of my heroes was Dag Hammarksjold, a Swedish diplomat and Secretary General of the United Nations who died in an airplane crash in Africa on his way to mediate a conflict in the Congo. After his death, a book of his personal spiritual writings was published, entitled "Markings." This book, so simple and so profound, became one of the few favorites I would take with me to Vietnam. Hammarksjold too was struck by Jesus' faithfulness:

"A young man, adamant in his committed life....He had assented to a possibility in his being, of which he had had his first inkling when he returned from the desert. If God required anything of him, he would not fail. Only recently, he thought, had he begun to see more clearly, and to realize that the road of possibility might lead to the Cross. He knew, though, that he had to follow it, still uncertain as to whether he was indeed "the one who shall bring it to pass" but certain that the answer could only be learned by following the road to the end....Is the hero of this immortal, brutally simple drama in truth "the Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world"? Absolutely faithful to a divined possibility - in that sense the Son of God, in that sense the sacrificial Lamb, in that sense the Redeemer. A young man, adamant in his commitment, who walks the road of possibility to the end without self-pity or demand for sympathy, fulfilling the destiny he has chosen.⁽¹⁾

Absolute faithfulness was surely part of what captured the hearts and imagination of the disciples in the days after the crucifixion.

They wrote from an Easter perspective because they saw that in facing death the way Jesus did, he had overcome it. He was faithful to the end and therefore he transformed the end. He faced death in such a way that death was defeated. He endured Good Friday in such a way that people experienced Easter.

They wrote from an Easter perspective because each of them, in his and her own way, had experienced the continuing presence of Christ. The women had experienced an empty tomb; disciples traveling on the road to Emmaus spoke with a stranger and invited him to a meal - and when he broke bread with them, they knew the stranger was Jesus. Even a couple of years later, Saul of Tarsus, not yet known as Paul, on his way to Damascus to arrest, interrogate and kill followers of Jesus, had an experience of intense light which left him blinded for three days and in that experience he knew he had met the risen Christ and his life would be changed forever.

For each of them, Easter was a life-transforming experience that assured them persecution is not the end, suffering is not the end, even death is not the end, and that our faithfulness is important, terribly important, crucially important. And so, everything that Matthew, Mark, Luke and John wrote -- even the stories of Jesus' beginnings -- were written from an Easter perspective.

The earliest of the four is Mark. Scholars believe his book is written about the year 65, probably in Rome, soon after the martyrdom of Peter in 62-64. It has been 70 years since Jesus' birth and 35 years since his death. The city of Jerusalem is still standing, but storm clouds have gathered, and great persecutions of Christians are taking place throughout the Roman Empire.

In the context of persecution, what strikes Mark most is Jesus' faithfulness. So ignoring Jesus' birth and childhood, Mark goes straight to the story of our Lord's baptism, whose theme is Jesus' faithfulness to God. For Mark, this Jesus was a man who would make a decision, take a stand, keep his word, remain faithful to the very end. And Mark could write of the early days with confidence that he knew his man, for he wrote from an Easter perspective.

Now it is twenty years later, the year is 85 and it is Matthew writing. Scholars differ on where he might have been, but one suggests Syria, perhaps in the towns Edessa or Apamea east of Damascus, where star worship is popular. Now Jerusalem has been destroyed, and Jews and Christians have been scattered throughout the Roman Empire. Faced with an earthly government which is variously arbitrary, chaotic, and evil, Matthew is taken with a picture of Jesus as a new King to replace all earthly Kings. In his account of the crucifixion, Matthew is more explicit than the others in describing the accusation above Jesus' head: This is Jesus, King of the Jews. Matthew doesn't see that sign at the top of the cross as a symbol of defeat, but as a proclamation of Easter success. Humanity's kingdoms have failed, but in his Easter perspective, Matthew knows the kingdom of heaven will not fail.

Now, how to begin his gospel? Matthew searches the scriptures for references to the king, to the new ruler who will replace all the ones who have failed. And from what he finds he pieces together his birth story - the birth of a new king, a king who is immediately threatening to the old king Herod, a king born in a humble house, a king who is recognized by wise ones from the east following a star. He finds enough references to create an adventure story - Herod seeking to enlist the wise ones as spies, the flight to Egypt to escape the massacre of the innocents. The story has displaced people, refugees, trauma survivors, and they can be there because Matthew was writing from an Easter perspective; he already knew how the story turns out in the end.

Did it happen just the way Matthew writes? Perhaps. Perhaps not. We will never know. Matthew was not writing history; he was testifying to his faith that a new king would set things right. He was writing from the perspective of Easter.

Now another half decade has passed, the year is 90, the city is Rome, and the author is Luke. Here in the empire's capital he can see injustice crushing the hopes of the Christians. What could he write that would strengthen their resolve and fortify their courage? Luke too has an Easter perspective to share. He wants to share with us the Jesus he knows. How to begin? Like Matthew, he looks through the scriptures to see what was foretold about the Messiah, but because Luke is very different from Matthew, different passages strike him. Luke is struck with the theme of reversal, how the coming of the Messiah will turn things upside down. And so he gives us the stories of Mary's and Elizabeth's pregnancies, humble circumstances producing mighty results. He puts a favorite early Christian hymn on Mary's lips:

"He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty."⁽²⁾

And he gives us the Christmas story we love, a birth with a manger for a bed, shepherds for heralds, angels for a chorus, glory and peace for an anthem. Did it happen just the way Luke writes? Perhaps. Perhaps not. We will never know. Luke was not writing history, he was testifying to his faith in a world which would be turned upside down because of this birth. Luke was writing from the perspective of Easter.

Fifteen more years and now it is the year 105, the city is Ephesus, the writer is John. Seventy-five years have passed since the crucifixion.

There is a legend that Mary, the mother of our Lord, spent her last days in Ephesus, and that John built her a house there. Last spring Fran and I visited the ruins of Ephesus and our tour visited Mary's house, built a hundred years ago on the strength of a German woman's vision that this was what the house was like and here on a mountaintop is where it was. Did it happen the way the German woman pictured? She was not really giving us history, (although she might be); she was testifying to her faith, and her words created a place where pilgrims come and leave petitions covering a wire mesh bulletin board and where a priest says Mass for the faithful.

But even if John built Mary a house, she had surely died by the time the Gospel was written. If Mary was 16 when Jesus was born about 4 BC, then John was writing about 125 years after Mary's birth. So of all the writers, the one who wrote the Gospel of John had the fewest memories to call upon. But he too wrote from an Easter perspective. How to begin?

Jesus Christ was the center of John's life and of his universe, and that's how he wrote. John's beginning story goes all the way back to the beginning of creation, in which Christ is the Word of God helping God create the entire universe. "He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being."⁽³⁾ Did it happen exactly that way? Which of us were there at creation a nd can say yay or nay? John is writing theology, not history - but he's writing from an Easter perspective. Christ is the ultimate beginning. Hardship is not the end. Trauma is not the end. Suffering is not the end. Death is not the end. The end is not the end.

In the first 200 years after Jesus' birth others wrote stories about Jesus which did not make it into our Scriptures. In one story the boy Jesus is playing with other children. Another child won't give Jesus a toy. In anger the boy Jesus calls down a curse on the other child and makes the child's arm wither away. Surely when the early church leaders were prayerfully sorting out what seemed to be inspired scripture and what wasn't, they thought, 'No, this story is not an expression of the Jesus we know, and it doesn't express an Easter perspective."

And so, what of us? I wondered what it might be if we today tried to be like Matthew, Mark, Luke or John, and write a beginning story that expressed our own Easter perspective. If I were to write a story of Christ's beginnings, what would my story be? One came to mind a week ago which I share with you:

One day, when Jesus was 10 years old, old enough to explore but too young to do a grown man's work, he ventured beyond the village walls of Nazareth. In that area the Romans had sought to extend their control by creating towns for people who were not Jews. Each day he went exploring, the boy Jesus went farther into the Roman town near Nazareth. Soon he met some young Greek boys his age. Fascinated with each other, they talked about their different lives and made friends. When Jesus came home and told his parents where he had been, his parents in great consternation took him before the village elders. "Explain yourself," they told him, "for these are our enemies, children of the hated oppressors, and good Jewish children do not associate with them." And Jesus answered them, "It is written, 'God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them....God saw everything he had made, and indeed, it was very good.'"⁽⁴⁾

Well, maybe not up to the standards of Matthew's story or Luke's story, but it is still written from an Easter perspective, for without the defeat of the forces of evil on Calvary, it wouldn't matter what Jesus did as a boy. And it's an Easter story because it expresses who Christ is for me today, 2000 years after he walked the dusty roads of Palestine.

An Easter perspective doesn't need to be a story. In New York, two blocks from Ground Zero, our United Methodist World Service offerings have paid for an Easter perspective in that place of devastation. On the wall of a 10 story building is a giant poster with two hands clasped in prayer and the words, "Fear is not the only force at work in the world today. And then the phrase "Open minds, Open hearts, Open doors - the people of the United Methodist church.

And so what of us? Do we have an Easter perspective? Are we missing an Easter perspective? In the face of challenges in our personal lives or to our church community are we in danger of losing an Easter perspective?

Every one of us here got ourselves to church this morning. That simple fact testifies to a fundamental belief that life is meaningful, that there is some point to getting up in the morning, that there is some point to being here. If all of us have that very basic connection with life, then all of us have our own Easter perspective, if we can but find it. And then the point is not to seek something from the outside to come in and fill our emptiness, but to reach deep within ourselves and connect with the Easter perspective that is already there. For each of us has experienced injustice in some fashion, each of us has experienced cruelty and pain, each of us has experienced loss, and each of us has discovered in the process an inner strength that has let us come through these experiences, surviving and thriving. An Easter perspective names that inner strength as a gift of God, a gift of the presence and power of God, and names it as the same power and presence which was with Christ transforming Good Friday into Easter.

Thanks be to God who gives each of us the gift of Easter throughout the days of our years, and throughout the stories of our lives.

1. Dag Hammarksjold, Markings, New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1965. pp 68-69

2. Luke 1:52-53, NRSV

3. John 1:2-3, NRSV

4. Genesis 1:27a, 31a, NRSV



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