At the end of Franco Zefferelli's amazing film Jesus of Nazareth, one of the enemies of Jesus enters the tomb, observes the place where Jesus' body had been laid but is no longer, and then provocatively says, "So it begins."

I want to extend to each of you a warm welcome to our church on Easter Sunday, and not only that, but an enthusiastic invitation to the beginning. For that's what Easter is - the beginning. The most important beginning in the history of the world. The most important beginning you and I can engage with our lives today.

Now many people miss out on Easter as a beginning because we want so much to see it as a happy ending. We humans love happy endings! A little boy was promised a new dog for his birthday. On the appointed day, his parents took him to the pet store where he checked out all the little puppies. Finally, the boy selected one whose tail was furiously wagging. When asked why he chose that particular dog, the little boy said, "I wanted the one with the happiest ending!"

And so do we all. We are people who yearn for happy endings. And what can be happier than the story of a good man, unjustly rejected and killed, but ultimately vindicated by rising from the dead? Easter seems to be the perfect ending to an otherwise tragic story!

But then we read the earliest recorded story of Easter. It's found in the Gospel of Mark.

The disciples are scattered and in hiding. Some of the women go to the tomb to finish wrapping Jesus' body. But, as they arrive at the tomb in the early dawn hours, they see the stone rolled away from the entrance. They run to peek inside. There, a young man - or is it an angel? - encounters them. The man claims that Jesus is risen from the dead and is not there. The women see that the place they laid him on Friday is empty, the burial cloths thrown to the side. The young man urges them to go tell the disciples the good news!

But they don't. Listen to what Mark says, "So they went out AND FLED FROM THE TOMB, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid."

Doesn't sound like a happy ending to me. Does it to you?

I was reading an article a few days ago by Christine Wicker who beautifully relates her own experience of Easter. She tells of attending Easter services where she left the church wondering whether anyone really believes all this hooey, as she described it. But then came the Easter she was worshiping in a small storefront church where the only visible sign of the holy day was a preacher who held a worn bible in his hand as he preached, and whose every sentence was filled with resurrection. The people clapped and "amen'd", and then it came time for testimonies. The song leader shared how he had been a homeless crack addict before Christ touched his life. A skinny guy got up to say that, a year ago, he was trying to find a way to kill himself, but now he was a follower of Jesus. Then, a little blonde ran up to the podium to say that the devil had been after her for a long time, and almost got her twice. As she talked, it was clear that her life was still one huge tangled mess.

Christine Wicker writes, "The little blonde needed big magic. She needed powerful stuff. She needed a miracle strong enough to beat death, strong enough to beat crack, strong enough to beat poverty." And then Christine Wicker realized that, "She needed the Resurrection. Nothing else would be enough."

As I read Christine's article, it occurred to me that the power of Easter is in its ability to give hope to those whose lives are not one big happy ending.

I was speaking with a parishioner the other day about the death of her mother some years ago. As she spoke, tears began to fill her eyes. In some wondrous way, she seemed to be transported back to the very moment when her mother passed away. She could see the faces of those who were there. She could re-hear the very words that were spoken. She experienced all over again the deep churning emotions that had gripped her in that moment all those many years ago. I've seen this many times before. All it takes is a word, or a photograph, or a song, or a dream about a lost loved one, and it all comes back again. Its almost as if our grief has never really ended once and for all, but has been sort of laying there, just under the surface, waiting for an opportunity to return. I don't think there are perfect happy endings when you lose someone you love. Do you?

Some of my heroes in life are those who are recovering alcoholics. I once made the mistake of introducing one particular friend as a recovered alcoholic. Right away, she corrected me. She said she'd be an alcoholic for the rest of her life. The daily struggle will go on forever. There are no once and for all happy endings to an illness like alcoholism.

And look out into the larger world. The Civil Rights movement accomplished great things on the shoulders of its martyrs and heroes. But fifty years later, racism is still a profound reality. And for all the welfare programs and benevolent efforts of Christians and others, there are more poor people in our country today than ever before. And even though the custody of little Elian Gonsalez is now resolved, is it really over? Even if there were to be a reconciliation between family members, that little boy will still have the death of his mother to contend with.

Now, all this is to say that there just aren't all that many permanent, perfect, happy endings in life! And God does not give us a trite happy ending on Easter either. Oh no, Mark describes an Easter that contains more questions than answers, more wonder than certainty, an Easter that puts us in the middle of a group of women running for their lives! Easter is not about artificial happy endings.

It is about fearful new beginnings!

Easter offers us hope in the face of the frightful journeys we must travel, whether through grief, or toward healing, or into reconciliation with others. And St. Mark shows us how we can take hold of this Easter hope as we engage those journeys.

First, Mark calls us to the past. The angel in the tomb says, "You seek Jesus who WAS crucified."

The journey of hope, I believe, always begins with the memory of God's love. This is how the ancient Hebrews were sustained through their darkest and most difficult hours. We hear such a memory in Psalm 136 which remembers the suffering in Egypt, the injustice under Pharaoh, the insurmountable obstacle of the Red Sea, the hardships of their forty years wandering through the wilderness. And yet, as the story of all their troubles is recited in the psalm, the congregation repeats after every half verse, the refrain: For God's steadfast love endures forever!

The journey of hope finds its beginning when you remember God's loving deeds in history. You can read about it on the pages of the Bible. You can encounter it in the stories of others.

Joseph Holub, a former pastor of one of our parishioners, used to tell a story that comes out of the extermination camps of World War II. The story goes that a group of Hasidic Jews was being herded like cattle into the gas chamber. As they marched, they began to sing over and over again an ancient Jewish poem called Ani Maamin which means, "I believe." Even when the doors to the chamber were closed and sealed, those outside could hear them singing inside, "Ani Maamin, Ani Maamin!" - we believe, O God, in you above all.

The gas was turned on, and several minutes passed, but still they sang. "Ani Maamin!" Ten minutes went by, and though the chant was more quiet, it could still be clearly heard, "Ani Maamin, Ani Maamin!" We believe, O God, in you above all. Fifteen minutes passed and still there were voices singing. Impossible! How could this be?

Twenty minutes passed. The voices were almost all quiet now. But still, from within the gas chamber, came one voice singing the song, "Ani Maamin, Ani Maamin." This was unthinkable that one could survive so long! Yet still, the voice sang, until a full thirty minutes had passed. And then, the singing stopped.

The story spread about the amazing voice that sang in the midst of darkness and death, and in some way, even beyond death itself. No one could explain it, although a rabbi once was asked what he thought. He said, "I believe it was the voice of God."

And why wouldn't it be? Why, from the beginning of the world to this very day, God has come and embraced us in our losses, and our illnesses, and our challenges, and even our sin. History is full of stories of the steadfast love of God.

But the most incredible story of all is the story of Christ crucified. And why was he crucified? Because he loved so well! Because he embraced the wrong people. Because he forgave sinners. Because he healed people whose lives weren't what they were supposed to be. Because he crossed the racial divide. Because he welcomed to his table people who weren't welcome at anyone else's table. Jesus was crucified because he loved too much.

I love how James Howell describes Jesus' death upon the cross as God putting his loving arms around our pain. On the cross, God takes upon himself the suffering of every man, every woman. On the cross, God pours out his very life for us, and joins his voice to ours. Ani Maamin!

So, if there are unresolved endings in your life today, there are fearful new beginnings you must make. Yes, it's scary to begin a new relationship with God when you've lived your whole life on your own terms. Yes, it's scary to check yourself into detox and begin the walk toward recovery. Yes, its scary to break away from an abusive spouse who's spent years telling you you're not good enough or smart enough to make it on your own. Yes, its scary to admit that you're an abuser, and you need to face it and fix it. Yes, it's scary to join the fight against racism and poverty and homelessness when those problems seem so immense!

But remember the steadfast love of God! God brought Israel out of the slavery of Egypt! God led the people through the impossibility of the Red Sea! God walked with six million Jews into the gas chambers of the holocaust, and God didn't stop singing until he rescued them all and brought them safely home!

And Jesus was crucified. He put his loving arms around your pain, and embraced you with the gift of salvation. His steadfast love endures forever!

As you engage the fearful new beginnings you must make in your life this week, I invite you to the memory of Jesus crucified. The hope of Easter begins with a memory of the past.

And then, Mark invites us to the present.

The angel says, "He is risen...He is not here...He is going before you to Galilee...!"

Galilee, you know, is where these women and the disciples came from. It's where they grew up. Where their homes are. Galilee is where they live!

And that's where Jesus has gone! To where we live! So I want to say to you today, "If you're looking for Jesus, he is not HERE! Jesus is not in the sanctuary where we celebrate the empty tomb. He is not in the beautiful lilies, not in the wonderful music, not in the empty cross hanging there on the wall!"

He is not here! He is risen, and he's waiting for you where you live! Jesus is always a step or two ahead of you in life!

One of our Stephen Ministers tells the wonderful story of a flight back home from Phoenix. She had just completed our Stephen Ministry training on developing good Christian listening skills. Seated next to her and her husband on the airplane was an older lady. And as soon as the plane took off, this woman began to talk.

That's not always something we really enjoy - to have our seatmate turn into Chatty Kathy. But our intrepid Stephen Minister had just completed the module on listening skills. She wanted to try them out. And so she did, while her husband tried to hide under the seat!

Well, this woman talked and talked and talked. She talked about her past, about her family, about all their struggles. She opened her heart and poured out all the pent up emotion she'd not had a chance to bring out into the open. Our Stephen Minister just pretended to be Jesus. She listened, and guided the one-way conversation. When the flight landed, the woman hugged our Stephen Minister, I think exchanged names and addresses, and went away feeling as though a healing had come to her!

Now who would have thought that weeks earlier - maybe even months - when that troubled woman called the airline for a reservation, it would have been God Himself at the reservation desk, peering through the Saabre system to find just the flight, just the row, just the seat next to a Christian woman who wanted to practice her new ministry of listening love?

And Jesus is already present in your family situation, and at your job, and in your illness. Present in your doubt. Present in your problem. Present in your broken relationship. Present in your grief. Present in the world where you live! And Jesus is present in the world where we live. Present in the midst of the violence of our society, and in the midst of homelessness, and in the midst of poverty.

And here's the simple Easter message.

If you want to find Jesus, go look for him there - in Galilee - where you live!!

And then Mark turns us toward the future. The angel says, "There you will see him!"

A while ago, someone asked me if I could prove to them that Jesus is truly risen. Earlier in my ministry, I would have responded to that question by quoting the Scriptures, and by encouraging the questioner to consider why the disciples who ran away on Friday, returned to faithfulness on Sunday and beyond. And even more importantly, why did these disciples - almost to a person - ultimately choose death rather than deny the resurrection. And, to top off the discussion, I would have included a healthy dose of my own witness to the power of Jesus in my life.

Today, I'm more inclined to respond differently.

If you want to see for yourself if Jesus is truly risen, go and live among the poor and devote yourself to their cause in his name, and you'll find out. Go and sleep with the homeless on a city street, and become an advocate in his name for those who live there, and you'll know for sure. If you want proof that Jesus lives, you're going to have to get out of your mind and get into the world!

Go to the person who hates you the most. Tell them you're sorry for your part in the broken relationship, and as a follower of Christ, you want to ask for forgiveness. Seek out the person who has most deeply hurt you, and because you follow Jesus, offer them the gift of forgiveness. Face up to the thing that gives you the most pain in life right now, and decide today that you're going to go after healing, and you're not going to settle for anything less. Commit yourself to loving people too much - like Jesus did - and loving the wrong people like Jesus did - and inviting to your table those who aren't invited to anyone else's table!

Begin these journeys - and others like them - and you'll find out first hand that Jesus lives!

For only when you engage the past, present and future of hope can you ever know for sure if it's true!

That's why the angel said, "You seek Jesus who was crucified. He is risen...he is not here...he is going before you to Galilee. There you will see him."

At first, the women were much too frightened to begin such a fearful journey. But we know that ultimately they did.

And now the question becomes, "Will YOU take up the past, present and future of hope? Will YOU begin the Easter journey?"