Sermons & Notes

Fr. Dean Mercer, St. Paul's L'Amoreaux Anglican Church, Toronto, Ontario, Canada - www.stpl.ca.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Easter Joy in the Morning - Sermon - 23 March 2008

In his commentary on St. Paul’s letter to the Romans, Bishop Tom Wright notes three things about why the patriarch Abraham is a model of faith for Christians.

First, Abraham turns from false gods to faith in the one, true God.

Secondly, Abraham rightly gives glory to God rather than glory to those things that are undeserving and which would set him on a course toward corruption and dishonor.

And as a hundred year old man with a ninety-nine year old wife, Abraham accepts the Lord’s promise of fruitfulness and new life trusting that the Lord has power over death.

I repeat. The faith of Abraham gives him purpose. He worships the true God. Not a swamp of false gods, leading a person into false hopes, empty pleasures, hollow promises.

Abraham rightly gives God glory and his faith brings meaning to his life. It is one thing to know that something is true. It’s another thing to let that truth permeate our lives, to find the meaning it gives to our life, and to do so with gratitude and reverence.

And the faith of Abraham gives him hope. He places his trust in the One who has power over death. Where Abraham can only see barrenness and death, Abraham accepts God’s assurance of fruitfulness and new life - and receives the child from whom descendants more numerous than the sands of the sea would descend.

Let me tell you about Fr. Walter Ciszek.

As a young man growing up in the United States, Walter Ciszek dreamed of living in Russia. During his theological training in the States and later in Rome, Ciszek studied Russia and Russian Christianity. And just as WWII began, hHe received his first appointment as a priest in Poland. And even though he hadn’t made it all the way to Russia, Russia came the rest of the way to him. With the invasion of Poland by Germany, Poland was carved up between the Germans and Russians and Walter Ciszek found himself in the Russian section.

But at the invitation of a fellow priest, an opportunity came to go with a coal mining team deep into the heart of mainland Russia. Ciszek jumped to accept and soon he was crowded into a railway boxcar for the long trip. He could barely contain himself, finally to visit the country he had so longed hoped to see; finally to experience life in a communist society about which he had heard such fascinating reports.

But upon arrival, his disappointment was profound.

In the mining camp, Ciszek discovered that the principle of religious freedom in a communist country meant little among people who were steeped in the official atheism. There was little interest and no encouragement.

Causing far greater strain, however, was the invasion of Russia by Germany. From then on, anyone who showed signs of nonconformity was under suspicion and most were arrested. Ciszek’s dream became a nightmare. He was arrested and for four years he was ceaselessly questioned and tortured under the trumped up charge of being a spy.

Ciszek describes this period as one in which his own soul was purged. Suffering and oppressed under communism, Ciszek had no more illusions about human institutions. Living beside hardened criminals, Ciszek had no more illusions human nature. And tormented day and night to produce a false statement, Ciszek’s eventual failure left him no illusions even about himself.
Though it was this final episode which served as a turning point.

After continuous interrogation, harassment and torture, Ciszek finally signed a statement declaring falsely that he was a spy. He went back to his cell in despair. He had lost hope in every one and every thing around him. Now he lost hope even in himself. But at that moment, the lowest in his life, he prayed a simple prayer and, as he put it, turned to God in complete trust, determining from that moment on to live with the single aim of trusting God and following God’s will even in every circumstance of his life.

So he did. Even in prison, he resolved to follow God’s will in every circumstance.

The prison guards were visibly amazed at his transformation. So much so that they misunderstood the change and hatched a plan to send him back to Rome as a Soviet spy. But when it was demanded that Ciszek sign a second agreement to serve as a Russian spy, Ciszek - who had become someone different from the man who had caved in earlier - refused. His captors flew into a rage and sentenced him to fifteen more years of hard labor in a Siberian work camp.

Which brings us to a remarkable episode in his life.

After completing his fifteen year sentence, Fr. Ciszek was released from prison and sent to the city of Norilsk where he could live, but under strict conditions set by the local authorities.
In Norilsk, however, Fr. Ciszek hunted up two other priests who had also been released from prison. They were in a miserable little shack in a squatter’s village on the edge of the city. But in that tiny hut, he was greeted with the joy of three brothers reunited at a seaside resort.

And there, in such humble conditions, after so many years of interruption, Fr. Ciszek resumed his duties as a priest. One occasion stood out among all others.

About a year later, the other two priests were forced out of Norilsk and Fr. Ciszek was left alone to serve the people during Lent and Holy Week. Humble as conditions were, a full schedule of services was arranged. Hundreds of people, at great risk to themselves participated. And for 48 hours straight over Good Friday, Holy Saturday and Easter Eve, Fr. Ciszek went throughout the city of Norilsk, blessing the people and hearing their confessions concluding with the Easter eucharist. And when it was finally over and as he sat to rest, in the background he could hear the last group of courageous Christian people leaving his small cottage, greeting each other in the words of the traditional Easter greeting: Christ is Risen. Christ is risen indeed. For all he had suffered, to serve these brave people through the most solemn season of the Christian year was one of the most thrilling experiences all his life.

The very next day, he was picked up by authorities, given an airline ticket and ordered to get out of the city and never return.

And this is what I find so striking. In prison, he realized his limits as a frail, mortal and sinful man, there to discover the perfect contentment of choosing only to follow the will of God. And while at first angered by his expulsion from Norilsk, as he sat in the plane, uprooted again and on the way to another new home, suddenly, it dawned on him: how was it that he should have experienced the joy of that Holy Week? How was it, in such a dramatic and historic time, that he should be the one to reap what his two predecessors had worked so hard and faithfully to achieve? And in those terrible circumstances, he experienced the peace of perfect trust in God and in the future for which God would provide.

Following the risen Lord, Fr. Ciszek followed the true God who could be trusted through the tumult of war with the Nazis and oppression under the Communists. Following the risen Lord, Fr. Ciszek found the meaning of life offered in gratitude to the Heavenly Father who alone deserves it, turning his head away from the shrill demands for it from captors who tried to use violence to gain it. And following the risen Lord, Fr. Ciszek experienced the new life that God can bring where only death and hopelessness appear.

Or, as an editorial in yesterday’s National Post put it so eloquently (22 March 2008):

Even when all seems definitively lost, when the stone is rolled into place and the darkness within the tomb is complete, even then hope is not lost. For the day in which the voice is silenced, the day in which the light is darkened, the day in which the faith is sealed underground — all this is but for a day! The day of the tomb does not have the final word, for in the morning, there is Easter joy.

The next time your loyalty to the One true God is turned away by a big bag of money, or a big bag of wind - remember! - the tomb does not have the final word, for in the morning, there is Easter joy.

The next time your affections are turned away from the Great Love toward little and hollow loves of fleeting pleasure and false relief - remember! - the tomb does not have the final word, for in the morning, there is Easter joy.

And the next time the forces of death and decay start heckling in the back of your head, the next time you hear them telling you there is no hope, no future, no use - remember! - the tomb does not have the final word, for in the morning, there is Easter joy.

And in the footsteps of the One who leads into the truth, who offers us the meaning and satisfaction in life for which we are made, who offers us hope beyond the grave, St. Paul’s words are the right ones:

I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.