He is risen! He is risen, indeed! Alleluia!

We have been waiting to say that for almost seven weeks now. During the Lenten season we honored the age-old tradition of refraining from saying “alleluia” while we have been engaging in the disciplines of faith – fasting, praying, reading the Bible, studying together, observing regularly the sacrament of Holy Communion, and worshiping as earnestly and as often as possible. And now, having made it through the austere period of Lent we can celebrate that our focus shifts from Jesus to Christ.

From Jesus to Christ . . . I suppose that it is not usually put that way, but I think it is accurate to describe Easter as this transition. For several weeks we have concentrated on the earthly life of Jesus . . .

• his sojourn in the wilderness where he was tempted by the devil, as the gospel story goes,
• the threat to his life by Herod, the “fox” of Jerusalem,
• Jesus’ teaching about the fig tree as an illustration of how God’s grace still gives us time to change our ways,
• the stunning story of the man who has two sons, a parable that reveals the forgiving nature of God,
• the awkwardness in Bethany where Mary, the sister of Lazarus, breaks open the expensive perfume to anoint Jesus’ body as if he already had died,
• and then, the final sequence of the boisterous entry into Jerusalem as people waved palm branches and chanted, “Hosanna!”, many of the same people who after his arrest and mockery of a trial would shout, “Crucify him!”,
• and finally, the entirely human, excruciatingly painful death on a cross.

We have lived with Jesus and his humanity for a long time.

But now, the tomb is empty, the body is gone. And the focus necessarily shifts from the human Jesus to the conceptual Christ. That is, “Christ” is a theological concept, an idea, a way of speaking about the unspeakable. It is in continuity with “messiah” and “the anointed one,” terms used in other times by other traditions, but when it is applied to Jesus, Jesus the Christ, it takes on a meaning different from any other savior that anyone has ever expected in human history.

The disciples did not believe it at first, that the tomb was empty. The women had gone early in the morning, just as dawn was breaking, with oils and ointments to prepare the corpse for a more permanent burial. But, the body was gone and two angels, apparently, asked them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”

The women ran back to tell the others, but they were skeptical. But Peter hurried to the tomb and found it as the women had said. And the shift in focus began from a bodily Jesus to an other-bodied Christ. What kind of “other body?” That is the question the first Christians asked Paul when he told them what had happened, and he responded, “That is a foolish question. It defies any description that we can offer.” But it is clear from the beginning that the disciples were not talking about a corpse walking out of a tomb. The earliest thinking was that we no longer would see Jesus in the flesh but would encounter the risen Christ in one another, in the scriptures, and in the ritual meals we ate together.

If things had stayed that simple, perhaps we would have saved ourselves a lot of turmoil. But over the next decades and even centuries later generations became contentious over the details of the reality of Christ, what one must believe about it. So, it moved from a non-descript Jesus Christ as the “only Son of God” in the Apostles’ Creed to the “only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one Being with the Father” in the Nicene Creed. That was seen as progress. Paul was right; what kind of body Christ has is a foolish question because it defies our answers.

Except we know this . . . we are called “the Body of Christ.” We, the Church, with all of our warts and disfigurements and brokenness, we are to be the Body of Christ. And now that becomes our focus, the Easter shift from the body of Jesus to the Body of Christ, from the story in the Bible to the story in us.

When the world’s people look at us, what do they see? Do they see new life? This is a deadly world. Do they see in us an affirmation of our earthly existence?

When they look at us do they see hope? This is a discouraged world. Do they see in us a resurrection of possibility?

When they look at us do they see peace? This is a warring world. Do they see in us ways toward reconciliation?

When they look at us do they see justice? This is an unfair world. Do they see in us champions of what is right?

When they look at us do they see love? This is a hateful world. Do they see in us lovers especially of the unlovely?

When they look at us do they see Christ?

It is the case, and here the logic circles back on itself, that if we are to focus on Christ then we must look back to Jesus as the lens through which we will see how we are to live, how we are to be the Body of Christ. And here there is no mystery:

• give extravagantly to the needy,
• feed the hungry,
• clothe the threadbare,
• do not be tied down by conventional obligations,
• abandon pride, position, and power,
• live freely like the birds of the air and the flowers of the field,
• share God’s love more convincingly in actions than in words,
• and, show regard for the least among us.

That is how we celebrate Easter, Easter not as a day but as a way of life. That is how we focus on Christ. And wonderfully, as we focus on Christ we see Jesus all the more clearly.

He is risen! He is risen, indeed! May the world see that embodied in us, and may they out of gratitude shout, “Alleluia!” Amen.