Over 120 years ago, James Matthew Barrie introduced to the world Peter Pan, Captain Hook, the Darling children, and Tinker Bell. Over a century later, the stories still captivate, and new movie versions keep coming out.
In the original play and novel, Tinker Bell is described as being capable of having only one feeling at a time, because of her small size. For example, in describing how Tinker Bell was once overcome with jealousy, Barrie wrote:
“Tink was not all bad: or, rather, she was all bad just now, but, on the other hand, sometimes she was all good. Fairies have to be one thing or the other, because being so small they unfortunately have room for one feeling only at a time. They are, however, allowed to change, only it must be a complete change.”
This description of Tinker Bell and her feelings has always stood out to me. I have often pondered to what extent we humans are able to have more than one feeling or emotion at a time. Do we full-size humans have the ability to make room for more than one feeling at a time?
We do; but we don’t always make use of that ability. And sometimes, we try to deny others the freedom to make use of that ability.
I’m thinking about these things today, because in the Easter story, there is a mix of feelings. It’s kind of a complicated mess of emotions, really; but fortunately, the main characters in the Easter story are capable of experiencing more than one feeling at a time.
But, that’s not true of the guards. The guards only experience one emotion. When the angel appeared, and the earth shook—shaking earth always puts fear in me!—the guards shook, and became like dead men, because of their fear.
That by itself is rather ironic, because the main role of a Roman guard was to inspire fear in others. “Do what we say… or else!”
Fear was all they wanted you to feel; fear that would lead you to obey.
But when the earth shook and the angel appeared, the guards were so full of fear themselves that there wasn’t room for any other feeling. They are the only characters in this story who get overwhelmed by a single emotion. They are rather like Tinker Bell in that way.
In fact, the guards had more fear than even their rather large, strong, muscular bodies could handle. Fear overwhelmed them. There was no room for any other emotion. They were overcome by fear, and became like dead men.
Maybe it was because all they did was inspire fear in others, that they were overwhelmed. Maybe it’s because fear was the one emotion that they were tuned into.
And, maybe it’s because of all the fear they inflicted upon others, that the angel didn’t try to calm their fears. In fact, it seems that the angel (can this be true?) got a kick out of it! These big, strong guards, whose only purpose was to inflict fear in others… the angel sneaks up, and suddenly causes the ground to shake, and lightning flashes all around (don’t forget about the lightning!), and the angel jumps out and goes, “boogedy boogedy!”
And the guards can’t handle it, and they just fall over from fear!
And then the angel turns to the women–Mary Magdalene and the other Mary–and the angel says, “Don’t be afraid.”
You’re laughing. Can you be laughing and joyful and reverential and worshipful at the same time? Is there room for all those feelings in you? Looks like there is.
I don’t mean to turn the Easter story into a joke. I suppose that if we were only capable of holding one feeling at a time, and all we could do is laugh at the humor, then we could only see the Easter story as a joke, OR we could only see it as the meaningful, central, pivotal story of our faith.
But we are not Tinker Bell. We CAN see the humor, while also, at the same time, recognizing the significance and deep meaning present in the story of the resurrection.
So, the angel says to Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, “Don’t be afraid;” and the angel gives them some instructions, and they depart, “with fear and great joy.”
With fear AND great joy!
See, they were afraid, but they were also filled with joy. They had room for both their fear, and their joy. They weren’t like the guards, who got so filled up with fear that there wasn’t room for anything else. They weren’t like Tinker Bell, who could only contain one feeling at a time.
The two Marys had both fear and great joy.
You may have come to worship this morning with a mix of feelings. We carry with us so much; our hearts are capable of so much.
Easter is a day of great joy, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t any sadness, or loneliness, or grief present.
It’s OK. It’s OK to have more than one feeling at the same time.
After the two Mary’s left, they went and told the disciples, to go to Galilee where they would see Jesus.
So they did. And when the disciples saw Jesus, the scripture says that they worshiped him; but some doubted.
Can you worship God, and at the same time still have doubts? Apparently, yes! “When they saw Jesus, they worshiped him, but some doubted.” What an interesting thing for Matthew to draw our attention to.
It’s not something you often hear preached about, on Easter or any other day. I may be the only preacher crazy enough to get up on Easter Sunday and point out that even while the disciples were worshiping Jesus, who was standing right there in front of them, some of them were also doubting.
What were they doubting? That he was alive? He was standing right there in front of them!
Maybe they were just trying to figure things out in their minds. It was, after all, a lot to take in. And they had seen, with their own eyes, his execution. Jesus was dead; there was no doubt about that. And yet, now he was apparently alive. Those two things cannot possibly both be true, can they?
They saw Jesus. They worshiped him. But some of them doubted.
Whatever you make of this, there is room in the Easter story for both worship and doubt. There is room in the Easter story for both joy and fear. There is room in God’s kingdom for all the conflicting emotions and feelings of the human experience.
And there should be room in the church for all our emotions and feelings as well.
It reminds me of the time (in Mark’s gospel) when Jesus met a man who begged Jesus to heal his son. Jesus said: “All things can be done for the one who believes.”
And the man replied: “I believe; help my unbelief!”
There’s another case of someone believing and doubting at the same time. And, apparently, that’s OK, because Jesus then healed the man’s son.
“A life that is holy is a life that allows for all of your uncertainties, your curiosities and unbelief. That doesn’t just allow for them but holds them as sacred. Spirituality that is not permitted these liberties is merely subjugation.” (a quote by Cole Arthur Riley, This Here Flesh)
I think for many of us, the time when we experience the greatest mix of contradictory emotions is when we grieve the passing of a loved one. As we remember the person we loved but who has now died, we find ourselves weeping at the loss, laughing at some of the stories of their life, and, often, angry at some of the things they did, or didn’t do. We may even be angry at God, while at the same time so incredibly grateful for the love we shared.
Grief is like that. It’s messy.
The Easter message is all about how life conquers death. That is what we celebrate today. Jesus was dead, but God raised him back to life; and God promises to do the same for us. That is why we say, with joy: “Christ is risen!”
But if it sounds like there is no room for doubt in our exclamations of joy, the Easter story tells us that, to the contrary, there is.
Especially since there is still a lot of uncertainty. We know that there is life, we know that God’s love continues even after death… but some of us want some more details; some more specifics. Some of us are the type of person who wants the itinerary all laid out.
Where are we going? How long will it take to get there? Where will we stop along the way? What will the accommodations be like once we get there? Will there be wifi, or a fitness room, or a pool? What are the hours of the buffet, or will it be open 24 hours?
There is so much I do not know; so much that I want to know.
But if I knew all the details, then faith wouldn’t be necessary. It’s been said that the opposite of faith isn’t doubt, that the opposite of faith is certainty. If I had certainty about everything, then I wouldn’t need faith.
So, faith–for me–is knowing that there is life, and knowing that God’s love endures forever, and rejoicing in that, because what could be more wonderful?
But faith is also making room for doubt, for questions, for fear.
Everything will be revealed, but not until its time.
We know that all things will work out for good, and that the victory belongs to God. We celebrate that! We celebrate with great joy!
And yet…
On this Easter, we are also distraught at what we have seen: the loss of life, from gun violence.
We are angry at injustice.
We are afraid for the future of the planet and our nation
We are frightened by the power of those who insist on stripping away the rights of our trans siblings
We are anxious about the future ministry of this church and so many churches like this one
We are sad because of the grief we carry and will always carry
But at the same time… at the same time…
We are alive with hope in God
We are joyful in light of resurrection; not just the resurrection we read about, but the resurrection, the new life, we experience every day
We are thankful for a faith that sustains us, and a church that both nurtures and challenges us
And we believe in the resurrection; we believe in life; we believe in love.
And yes, we are all these things, and we believe all these things, and we have all these feelings, all at the same time. Unlike Tinker Bell, God made us this way. And that’s part of the joy and the mystery of being human. It’s part of the joy and the mystery of Easter.
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