Sermon - Easter Sunday : Eyes which see life anew

The False Mirror by René Magritte, 1929

It was a great privilege to be invited to preach for the Pascal Triduum at St George’s Bloomsbury in April 2023. The first time I have preached at all three services and the first time I have spoken in front of so many people at once. I drew on my experience visiting the Holy Land last year and based each sermon loosely around part of a prayer attributed to St Teresa of Avila ‘Christ has no body now on earth but yours’ and the theme of connection, disconnection and reconnection. On Thursday the focus was ‘Feet which walk to do good’ and connections to the embodied love of Jesus through the symbolic washing of feet and the sharing of the Last Supper. On Friday the focus was ‘Hands which bless the world’ and our disconnection from the embodied love of Jesus when he died on the cross. On Sunday the focus was ‘Eyes which see life anew’ and our re-connection to the love of Jesus through Mary Magdalene’s vision in the garden at dawn. The sermon on Sunday drew each reflection together to encourage us to choose to live life as pilgrims – not tourists. To embody the love of God we have now received through the Spirit of the risen Christ.

A sermon given at the Choral Eucharist on Easter Sunday, April 9th 2023 at St George’s Bloomsbury. A version of this sermon was also given at the Easter Vigil at St Stephen Walbrook on Saturday April 8th 2023 (Year A) based on John 20.1-18. A recording of this sermon and the gospel reading (and the fantastic Nessun Dorma style acclamation that preceded it!) can be watched below:

When we sit down to watch telly these days - perhaps The Crown - or maybe my favourite - the latest Star Trek series, there’s often a bit of a recap at the beginning of each episode. If you’ve got one of those modern tellys, a thing will appear on screen saying “skip intro,” and - if you can find the remote - (easier said than done in my house) you can fast forward to the start of the next programme. 
 

Now, I’m going to start with a bit of a recap - so I apologise to anyone here who has been to church on Thursday and Friday this week, because I don’t come with a “skip intro” button I’m afraid (!) so you may feel a bit disconnected for the next minute or so. Those watching online later - hello there! - are at a distinct advantage here.

 

Or are they? 

 

You see, scientists tell us that our synapses - the junctions between our brain cells - are strengthened as a result of cycles of connection, disconnection and reconnection. Exposure to this sequence improves what is called our neuroplasticity. The ability of our brain to grow - to develop - to change. The cognitive benefit of this cycle is something teachers realised long ago. Psychologists will testify that the most enduring, trusting relationships, are forged in the same way - connection, disconnection, reconnection. 

 

So those moments of disconnection -  when we are seeing or hearing or doing something we have experienced before and our mind wanders……but our attention is recaptured and our focus returns - those moments are in fact an essential part of our development.

 

A scientific fact which is a great comfort all amateur preachers like me especially at those times when I look around the room and see your attention wandering! Because of course that’s - erm - healthy!!! 

 

 

At our services here over the past few days I’ve been sharing some memories of my visit to the Holy Land last summer, which was eye-opening in so many ways. There I was able to follow in the footsteps of Jesus. Stand in the place where he washed the disciples feet, touch the rock into which his cross was driven and see the tomb where he was resurrected from the dead. 

 

I’ve been using a prayer which some attribute to St Teresa of Avila, to help to connect the physical experience of my pilgrimage mentally and spiritually. The prayer also seems to speak to the readings from the gospel that we’ve heard over the past three days. It’s a beautiful prayer which you may know: 

 

Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

 

Someone once said that the difference between a pilgrim and a tourist is that tourists want to get away from life. Pilgrims confront life’s big questions. Tourists change their environment. Pilgrims allow their environment to change them. 

 

The Christian life is described as a continual pilgrimage. Yet so often I find myself treating life as a tourist. Fast forwarding to the next thing when I feel I’m treading the same path or when things get a bit hard to stomach. Pressing “skip intro” through life. 

 

But - as science tells us - that’s no way to grow.

 

Scripture and the Christian tradition says the same. 

 

The events of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter are a pilgrimage through connection, disconnection and reconnection. 

 

On Thursday we gathered in the Upper Room for the Last Supper where we were connected to the embodied love that is Jesus Christ, the Son of God; fully human and fully divine. 

 

Today the stone floor of this modest space is packed with people from around the world. The body of Christ on earth - drawn to the place where the disciples were connected to his body and blood through the act of sharing bread and wine. 

 

Connected to that love in action as Jesus washed the disciples feet. 

 

A unique event in the historical record. And an uncomfortable and unnerving experience. The disciples bodies had no muscle memory for a situation like this because never before had someone in a position of authority bent down to wash the feet of another - a task performed by a servant or slave. 

 

Jesus knew that in order to learn that new commandment - to love one another as he loves us - the disciples needed to be brought out of their comfort zone. 

 

In washing their feet, Jesus grounds our faith in this embodied love. With each touch, new synapses were being formed in their brains. Connections made between body and mind. Whether they realised it or not, the disciples were being changed by their environment. They were growing. 

 

The same is true for us each time we feel the touch of the sacramental bread and wine on our lips; when we touch the lives of others through acts of humble, loving service.

 

Christ has no body now but yours. 

Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good. 

 

 

On Good Friday we were disconnected from that embodied love. At Golgotha - the hill on which Jesus was crucified that now lies within the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, pilgrims come and place their hand into the aperture where the cross of Jesus was driven into the rock. They reach out to grasp at nothing. To touch a void. 

 

On Good Friday we hold that emptiness in our hands. Perhaps the most authentic expression of human life for us here in the present moment - as we all live in that Jesus-shaped void - the time between the resurrection and Christ’s coming again. 

 

Instinctively we are materialist. Which means it’s a real struggle not to fill that void - with something or someone else. But eventually we learn that only Jesus himself can do that, when he comes again.   

 

So, we look at those open hands nailed to the cross and we learn to open ours - to let go of all we are carrying and to grasp the hope that Jesus gave us. 

 

Christ has no body now but yours. 

Yours are the hands with which He blesses all the world.

 

 

By clinging to blessed hope, today we are reconnected to that embodied love - thanks to Mary Magdalene and what she saw at the Garden Tomb at dawn. 

 

Intriguingly a time and a place that reflect the optimum conditions for connections to be made. 

 

Studies have shown that our brain is most receptive to growth in the few hours between sleep and wakefulness. A liminal, meditative space. One reason perhaps why churches are filled with beautiful art and glorious music - to try to recreate a similar environment. To stimulate connections, relationships. 

 

Recently I was shown a You-Tube video of a vine growing in slow motion. It might not compete with Star Trek but it is a fascinating watch. You see tendrils emerging from the plant and spiralling around as they grow upward. Those that touch something different - something new nearby - are spurred to further growth. To stretch - to reach - for more connection. Those which find nothing new to grasp on to wither. Their growth stunted.

 

Scientists have found that our brains work in the same way as a vineyard or garden. Responding instinctively to the stimulus of new and renewed connections. That some degree of stress - disconnection - is needed to encourage further synapse growth. Like a vine being pruned.

 

How apt that amidst the stress of her grief, her eyes filled with tears and blinded by the rays of the rising sun - that Mary Magdalene should be the first to see the risen Christ - in a garden in the early morning! But now Jesus - this embodied love - was somehow different. Still recognisably him but changed.

 

In the garden at dawn Mary is the first to see life anew.

 

Unlike the men - Peter and the other disciple who also looked into the tomb and, we are told, “saw and believed” - before fast forwarding home - apparently without any word or gesture of comfort to the grieving woman - Mary was different. 

 

She remained in the garden. She was changed by her environment. She saw a man whom she recognised as the risen Lord when he spoke her name. 

 

It was at that moment she saw him with the love and acceptance and possibility with which he saw her. Things which science, for all its great advances so far, cannot see.

 

Mary saw life anew by looking at the world through the eyes of Christ.

 

Christ has no body now but yours.

Yours are the eyes with which He looks compassion on this world. 

 

It was then that she went and announced to the disciples “I have seen the Lord”. 

 

In becoming the first person to share this Good News, Mary initiated a cycle of growth with which we are all engaged. 

 

Grasping to reach the risen Christ; walking in love, holding on to hope and seeing life anew. 

 

Growing in faith. 

 

It’s a journey that began with our baptism, when the Spirit of Christ entered us. When we vowed to come to Christ, the way the truth and the life. Promises we have all strayed from - but vows we are about to renew. As we continue on this journey of connection, disconnection and reconnection. 

 

We can choose to make that journey as tourists or pilgrims. We can choose to confront life’s big questions or escape from them. We can choose to change our environment or allow our environment change us. 

 

Next time we walk to the altar, or see someone in need and think about crossing the road; next time we consider pressing fast forward or “skip intro” - let us connect our mind and body and be aware of the choice we are making. 

 

We are here on this glorious Easter Day - perhaps for the first time - perhaps for the fiftieth time - because deep down we know that life is not just “all about the journey” - but about the attitude - the intention - the manner - in which we walk it. We are called to be pilgrims. To keep learning. Growing to live in the likeness in which we were made:

 

Christ has no body but yours,

No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which He looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which He blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are His body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

 

A life of love and endless possibility which is only possible because

Christ is risen!

He is risen indeed!

Alleluia!

 

 

Image : The False Mirror by René Magritte, 1929 

Acknowledgements : I am very grateful to Fr David Peebles at St George’s Bloomsbury for allowing a novice like me to preach at such important services. I am indebted to Rodney Aist and all at St George’s College Jerusalem for their wisdom on the spirituality of pilgrimage and their hospitality in Jerusalem last year and to Dr Gena St David of the Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, Texas for her excellent lecture at St Augustine’s College helping us to view scripture and theology through the lens of neuroscience.