March 23, 2008 ~ Easter Sunday
Matthew 28:1-10
“Scared To Death Of Life: Dead Men Tell No Tales”

“Dead men tell no tales.”  Isn't that the title of a recent movie with a couple of swashbuckling Hollywood hunks?  The phrase, attributed to ruthless pirates of the 1700's and 1800's, was made famous in Robert Louis Stevens 1883 book, “Treasure Island” and in Disney's blockbuster movies, “The Pirates of the Caribbean.”  Judging from the number of poems, books, songs, blogs, pieces of art, and movies connected with the phrase, it seems to strike a chord in our culture. (1)

“Dead men tell no tales.”  Or do they?  We human beings are fascinated with what it means to return from the dead, and what the dead might say and do upon their return.  Ghosts.  Phantoms.  Apparitions.  Ghouls.  Zombies.  -Fortune tellers and mediums are paid good money to try and coax a few words from dead loved ones.  Television shows like “CSI” and “Cold Case” try to make up in evidence left behind at the scene of a crime where the actual voices of the dead are lost.

There are a few exceptions, but for the most part, we seem to be scared of what the dead might say if they do return.  What do they know that we don't want told?  What might they be freed up to reveal, once death has wiped their last inhibitions away?  And I'm not just talking about the gruesome or telling means of their death.  Actually, that's probably the least of most of our worries.  I would be far more afraid of their honesty about their entire life… and how I did or did not care for them enough, connect with them enough, love them enough.

We don't want the dead to speak.  “Dead Men Tell No Tells” is a reassuring phrase to most of us, even if left unspoken. 

Ebenezer Scrooge, in Charles Dickens' classic tale, found out exactly what horror might be unleashed if the dead were to talk. He had not one, but three apparitions telling a lot of tales, and quite articulately.  Like Scrooge, we might be confronted with truths about ourselves that our minds and hearts could barely contain.  Searing truths about what we've done, as individuals and as a society, and how we treated people, more often than not without much of an awareness on our part.  Isn't that what we fear if the dead were to talk to us.

[Fear defines and shapes so much of life, with or without the dead coming back to life.  Talk show host Tavis Smiley, in a recent interview with comedian Richard Lewis, reflected on the belief that fear is the basis for much of comedy.  Tavis said, “Every comedian I've talked to who's worth his or her weight in gold says that what drives them is the fear.  You meet so many comedians who are good at what they do because they're running from something or their comedy is motivated by whatever it is they're afraid of.” ](2)

Our scripture text today is filled with fear and the admonition not to fear.  The guards shook for fear of the earthquake-wrought angel.  The women who had come to the tomb to clean and anoint Jesus' dead body were told by the same angel, “Do not be afraid.”  They left the tomb with “fear and great joy.  On the way, they encountered their risen Lord and Savior, and his very first words are “Do not be afraid.”

[We recall this assertion from elsewhere in the great story.  “Do not be afraid!” has been part and parcel of the gospel story since that first “Gloria In Excelsis Deo” song filled the night sky above the shepherds in the field watching their flocks by night.]

Of what were they afraid?  Besides the earthquake, the angel whose appearance was like lightening, and a dead man walking and talking, there's not much of which to be afraid in this story, is there?  Yes, all these paranormal occurrences might engender fear, but I don't think that is what is truly the most frightening aspect of this series of events. I believe the reason for this profound attention to fear was what Jesus might say upon his return. The disciples feared that Jesus, come back from the dead, would treat them like they deserved to be treated, and would say to them what they deserved to hear.  They were scared that he would tell tales, read 'em the riot act, make it plain, lay out their business for all to see, “tell it like it is.”

They had reason to be afraid of Jesus telling tales:  Constantly misunderstanding his teaching and forgetting his sermons, not to mention during that last week James and John's arguing, Peter's denial, the disciples scurrying like frightened cats, and even the women, who'd been by his side through it all, seemed all-too-resigned to find a dead body in that tomb.  Where was the faith they proclaimed so daringly when he was by their side?  Where was the boldness they had when Jesus was in his prime, and the crowds were cheering him - and them - on?   Yes, the disciples had a lot to be afraid of if Jesus were ever to come back to life.  They would be accountable for a lot.

I wonder sometimes if whether or not Judas was the only one who really took Jesus at his word, who really trusted that the resurrection would happen.  Good Lord, Jesus told them about his death and resurrection enough times throughout his ministry.  Most of them seemed not to worry so much about such grim possibilities.  Judas did.  He seemed to really get it.  What if Judas' suicide was a sign that he fully expected Jesus to come back from the dead, but with all his wrath and vengeance focused on Judas, the one who betrayed him.  Was it fear of what Jesus might say and do as a resurrected being that caused Judas to hang himself?  Was Judas' faith so strong that he truly did believe dead men would tell tales?

[Even the chief priests, Sadducees, and Pilate were afraid of what the dead might say.  In the verses immediately prior to this, they conspire to guard the tomb so that the disciples of Jesus might not fake his resurrection and thus put words into his mouth condemning them.  Little did they know that Jesus, himself, would be raised to life again.  Or did they suspect it might actually happen… and fear all the more?]

This reminds me of a story The Rev. Dr. Mary Hinckle Shore tells of receiving Holy Communion:

Years ago, as someone poured wine from a chalice into my communion glass, he said, "The blood of Christ, shed for you."  It was a jarring emphasis on the preposition.  Readers and liturgists usually know that prepositions are not the most important words in a sentence.  The line is usually spoken, "The blood of Christ shed for you," and it probably should be spoken that way.  But that day, when the assisting minister punched the preposition, I thought - for the first time in my life I thought - you know, it could have gone the other way. The blood of Christ could have been shed against me.

[When Jesus says, "Do not be afraid," he makes it clear that what could have happened did not.  The earthquake and the resurrection are both signs that the end is at hand.  But what kind of end?  Until the women see Jesus, they do not know precisely what kind of end it will be.  What about those who deserted Jesus, and the one who denied him, and those who were powerless to do anything but look on as the grisly scene of crucifixion unfolded?  What about them?  In the end, will they find that his blood is a judgment against them?  Will we?”] (3)

But Jesus doesn't lay them low, does he?  He has every right to… he has every reason to… but he doesn't.  Instead, the resurrected Jesus talks of forgiveness, and the future.

Almost thirteen years ago I this June I was on a plane over the Midwest, headed home to be at my mother's bedside as she lay dying.  When my brother-in-law called me in New York, he said that my mother was still awake and talking.  But by the time my plane had landed she was unable to speak or even move.  I sat by her hospital bed for hours yearning for her to wake up, to say a word.  She could not, and did not.

We went to my sister's house to sleep that night.  I thought many things, but I was especially torn apart by the dreadful awareness that the year prior had been filled with a great deal of stress and strain between my mother and I.  The last time I had seen her I had left her house in a rage and moved to a hotel room because of how angry I was that she seemed to be supporting my brother's alcoholism and drug-addiction.  Throughout that entire year, we never made peace, and she began to struggle with a painful and persistent skin disease.

That night, following the hospital visit, I truly had mixed emotions.  I yearned for my mother to wake up and give me words of comfort, peace, assurance… but feared that instead she would condemn me for leaving her in her time of need.  She would have every right to chastise me, for I had become self-righteous and cruel in my distance from her.  But when we returned to the hospital after the nurse had called, and I sat by my mother's body following her death, all my fears fell away.  This woman, who in life may have held me accountable, but would never have condemned me, certainly would not condemn me in death.  If my mother had miraculously risen from that ICU bed, there is no doubt in my mind her words would have been of healing and of love.

Should we expect any less from Jesus?

Did Jesus spend any time, energy, or breath on condemning the disciples for their unfaithfulness, for their betrayal, for their lack of trust?  No.  Not even a word of anger for dear Judas.  Jesus wasted no time in his resurrection on condemning those who had done him wrong.

What did he do?  He sought to calm their fears and their doubts, “Do not be afraid.”  He offered them comfort, “Peace be with you.”  He reminded them of his chief proclamation, “Feed my sheep.”  And he sent them out into the world to teach and proclaim this gospel of merciful love to everyone, “Go, ye, therefore.”

Jesus' resurrection, coming back the way he did, simply means that our resurrection will need to be in much the same manner, if we are truly followers of Christ.  We will have to let go of the image that when we return from the dead we will need to “tell tales,” but instead, will offer forgiveness; that we will have let all of our pride and prejudices melt away in the blazing love of God. 

But why wait for our resurrection from the dead to live life so fully and freely?  Ebenezer Scrooge realized it before it was too late, and used his own fears about death to transform his life.  Isn't this why Jesus came in the first place, so that his life and his resurrection might mean something in the lives of his disciples? 

Jesus' resurrection illuminates the obvious: We are scared to death of life.  of living life as Jesus did and as Jesus calls us to.  You see, if we spend our lives held captive to the tales that dead men might tell, we will live our lives smaller than they every should be.  If we live in constant fear of what those living around us might say should they come back from the dead, why don't we just live lives of grace, honesty, compassion, righteousness, and love now?  Why wait until we're scared what they will say from the great beyond, and ask them what they think in the great here-and-now?  Why postpone life until death, unless we truly are scared to death of life.

Thus what we're really afraid of is that Jesus' resurrection means we need to let go of all that anger, cynicism, heartache, vengefulness, prejudice, and pride … that we hold so close to and live life as resurrected beings here and now.  This most likely means we will live, like the women at the tomb, with an odd mixture of fear AND joy.

I need to live for the people around me like I never lived for my mother.  Now.  We need to live for Jesus like the disciples never were able to.  Now.  As individuals, as a church, as a nation, and as a global community we need to live life to the fullest now so that at our loved ones' deathbeds we will have no fear, and on our own deathbeds, preparing to meet Jesus face to face, we will not fear what tales that dead man might tell.  We will be confident in the lives we lived while we were still breathing.  That is resurrection!   Amen.

(1)
http://tellnotales.yuku.com/topic/1491/t/quot-Dead-Men-Tell-No-Tales-quot.html
From what I have read, the phrase "dead men tell no tales" is a slogan uttered by the crew of Captain Gibbs in the 1820's. He was quite ruthless in the disposing of imprisoned crews. Does anyone have any insight into the validity of this? Or has anyone found any accounts of this phrase from earlier pirates?  Robert Louis Stevenson then stole this phrase and had it spoken by Long John Silver in the 1883 book “Treasure Island.”

www.phrases.org
“'The dead cannot reveal any secrets.' The proverb has been traced back to Thomas Becon (c. 1560). First attested in the United States in 'Porcupine's Works' (1797)..." From "Random House Dictionary of Popular Proverbs and Sayings" by Gregory Y. Titelman (Random House, New York, 1996).  That is Becon (not Bacon).”

(2)
The Tavis Smiley Show on PBS, aired March 10, 2008.  Found at: http://www.pbs.org/kcet/tavissmiley/archive/200803/20080310_lewis.html

(3) "The Insecure Tomb" by The Rev. Dr. Mary Hinkle Shore, Evangelical Lutheran Church in America Speaker on Day 1 for March 23, 2008 (Easter) Matthew 27:62-28:10.  The Rev. Dr. Mary Hinkle Shore is associate dean for first theological degree programs at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, MN.  You can find this online at: http://www.day1.net/index.php5?view=transcripts&tid=694 




Rev. Allen V. Harris
Franklin Circle Christian Church
www.FranklinCircleChurch.org


 

Copyright 2008 -- The Rev. Allen V. Harris

Franklin Circle Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)

1688 Fulton Rd., Cleveland, OH 44113-3096