Sermon preached by the Dean of Lincoln at the Sung Eucharist on Easter Day (20 April) 2025 in Lincoln Cathedral.
‘But suddenly, at the edge of her mind, Religion appeared, poor little talkative Christianity, and she knew that all its divine words from ‘Let there be light’ to ‘It is finished’ only amounted to “boum”‘.
So reflects Mrs Moore in EM Forster’s novel, A Passage to India. A life-long Christian, whose faith and the comfort it brings have become increasingly cold with the passing of the years, Mrs Moore has come to India seeking new meaning, new purpose, new significance in her life.
If you’re familiar with the novel or the film, then you may remember that it is during a trip to the Marabar caves that Mrs Moore’s life and beliefs are turned upside down by an unexpected and disturbing experience. Standing in one of these cavernous spaces she realizes that her ears are filled by the haunting sound of a persistent, incomprehensible echo. No matter which words leave her lips, how pious their content or to whom they are addressed, the sound comes back the same – an empty, meaningless echo. And from this unsettling experience, Mrs Moore reflects on the faith that has sustained her throughout her life, and concludes that from God’s first words in creation to Christ’s final words on the cross, it is no more than ‘poor little talkative Christianity’.
Mrs Moore has a point. Christians, like most people, tend to prefer words to actions. We all know that it’s normally much easier to talk about things than to put them into practice. And yet Easter, the festival of Christ’s resurrection, which is the heart of the Christian faith, is all about action. The Gospel account we’ve just heard is split into two parts. The first records Mary Magdalene telling Peter and the other disciple that the stone has been rolled away, provoking the two men to run to the tomb and eventually to go inside. In these verses there’s no dialogue whatsoever. No-one says a word. Why?  Because they were left speechless by the disappearance of their friend’s body or for some other reason, we simply don’t know. The text, like the disciples, is silent.
By contrast, in the second part of the passage there’s dialogue aplenty, lots of words, words initiated first by the two angels, and then by Christ himself. These words are not empty, but give us a precious insight into Mary’s life-changing encounter with the risen Christ, when he calls her by name, and she recognises him for who he really is, not the gardener, but her Lord. And these words lead to action, for this first witness of the resurrection does not keep to herself what she has experienced, but goes and tells others: ‘Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord’.’
Today’s wonderful festival is as much about Mary Magdalene as it is about Christ, by which I mean that is as much about being changed by the resurrection as it is about Christ being raised. You can’t have one without the other; we know that. And yet the world has understandably grown weary of hearing Christians talk and not act; it is tired of hearing what we have to say, and then seeing the ugly spectre of hypocrisy when our actions don’t match our words.
I say this not to demoralise us. Far from it. This is a day of great joy and celebration. Christ is risen. Alleluia! If we believe that, then we need to live as if we do. First and foremost, because that’s what Christ calls us to do, not least so that others can see and believe. ‘Go to my brothers’, the risen Jesus says to Mary Magdalene. ‘Don’t hold on to me; don’t even stay here with me; but go’. Those words can sound quite harsh. Just two days before Mary was there at the cross, a witness of her friend’s bloody execution. Now, quite unexpectedly, Mary meets him again, and yet he tells her to go away. But of course the command to go is addressed as much to us as it is to Mary. ‘Go . . . if you believe that I have risen; go and live out your Easter faith’.
But what does that actually look like for us in Lincoln in 2025? For me living out the Easter faith is about trying to love radically, to forgive deeply and, not least, to serve others sacrificially. None of these is easy. All of them are easier said than done. And so it’s important that we don’t set ourselves up to fail. But this high calling being difficult doesn’t give us the excuse to talk about it rather than try to embody it.
For each of us, exactly how we respond to Christ’s call to live out the Easter faith in love, forgiveness and service will be different. There’s no one size fits all blueprint for Christian discipleship. That said, what is true for all is that this Easter living is not something any of us should attempt on our own. To love, to forgive and to serve as an Easter people require us to be nourished by prayer and worship within the context of a community, the church. This is where it starts. Here and now.
Now having determined the starting point, if it’s hard to imagine what this Easter faith might look like in practice, let me suggest a few examples. I recognise it being lived out when I see acts of forgiveness in impossible situations; when I encounter hope in hospital wards; selfless generosity in times of scarcity; joy in the face of suffering. I recognise it when, faced with a choice, the more difficult option is chosen: kindness over cynicism, reconciliation with someone rather than carrying on resenting them and, perhaps hardest of all, living in hope rather than despair.
This and much more besides is what it means to be an Easter people. This is what it means to believe that now is eternal life. To be rooted in the often harsh reality of daily living, and from that soil in which our feet are planted, to love, forgive and serve, and in so doing, know deep joy in gradually unmasking our true selves, the people God created us to be.
For Mrs Moore in the Marabar caves, the meaningless echo was triggered by the utterance of words that had become detached from action – they were words and no more. Poor little talkative Christianity is a temptation for all of us. This Easter let us resolve to be done with it. As the risen Christ invites us to meet with him at the altar this morning, just as truly as he met with Mary Magdalene on that first Easter Day, let us ask him for the grace and courage to stop talking about the resurrection and to start living it, that with the whole of creation we may be transformed by the love of the crucified and risen one, and acclaim with one voice: ‘He is risen indeed. Alleluia!’.