Easter 2008 "God Can Mend All That Is Broken:" - Matthew 21: 1-11 and Matthew 26:14 - 27:66 - Pastor Paul L. Larsen

A father took his little boy to a pet shop to pick out a puppy for his birthday present. For half an hour he looked at the assortment of dogs in the window. Finally, Dad asked, "Decided which one you want?" "Yes," the little fellow replied, pointing to one who was most enthusiastically wagging his tail. "I want the one with the happy ending."

Easter is the happy ending to a story that looked and felt hopeless. In a poem entitled "The Widow in the Bye Street," John Masefield tells of a young man about to be executed for crimes against the state. Standing in the crowd gathered to witness this event is his widowed mother. She is about to be left all alone in the world. When the trap door opened and the rope had finished its work, this pathetic mother crumpled to the ground and began to sob uncontrollably. Those nearby heard her say something about "broken things, too broke to mend." She was in anguish because of her sense of failure as a parent. But even worse was her utter sense of hopelessness. It is awful to feel that your very existence is not just broken, but broken beyond repair. Her son was "too broke to mend" and now she feels like her life is in the same condition.

In the story of Good Friday we see another young Man being executed by the state in the presence of His mother. He had been brutally beaten, mocked and spit upon, nailed to cross where his broken body hung until he died. But more than Jesus died that day. The hopes and dreams of his mother and all of his followers died with him. They had to feel like their lives were “too broke to mend.”

Feeling like her heart was broken beyond repair, Mary Magdalene trudged to the tomb in the dark that first Easter morning. When she got there she saw that the stone was rolled away. Wasn’t it bad enough that they had tortured and killed the one she thought was the promised messiah? Now some sadistic, horrible people had stolen his body? She runs off and tells Simon Peter and the disciple Jesus loved. They ran to the tomb and looked inside. They saw the empty grave clothes. Not understanding what all of this meant they went back home.

Mary looked into the tomb and saw two angels. They asked, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?” What a stupid question! Don’t they know that Jesus has been killed? Don’t they know that her hopes and dreams died with him? Don’t they know that things are “too broke to mend?”

Mary mumbles something about someone taking Jesus’ body away. She turns and Jesus is standing there, but she mistakes him for the gardener. Mary asks if he has taken the body. But then Jesus calls her by name, “Mary.” And instantly she recognizes him. It is amazing! Christ has been raised!

Things that are "too broke" are now mended, and she blurts out, "Rabboni! Teacher!" She lunges at him and hugs him close. He says, "No, Mary. Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go, tell my disciples that I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God." She flies back to the disciples, her feet barely touching the ground because of the joy within her and says, "He is alive! I have seen the Lord!"

She went there in the darkness, feeling hopeless. She went there feeling things were “too broke to mend.” But then she heard Him. Her need conditioned her to hear the voice of God. So often it is when we are overwhelmed by problems and sufferings and hopelessness and darkness and brokenness that we are able to hear the voice of God. When you are in the dark, when you are feeling like things are “too broke to mend,” listen carefully. You may just hear a word of hope; a promise of resurrection; an assurance that God can mend all that is broken.

In a Guideposts story, Marian Hammaren tells of her daughter Caitlin, a student at Virginia Tech. They were very close and would talk on the phone or text each other almost every day.

But on the fateful day when a gunman started shooting people at Virginia Tech, Marian didn’t hear from Caitlin. She kept trying to reach here daughter, but to no avail. Marian and her husband, Chris, jumped in the car and raced off to the school as quickly as they could. During the terrible 10 hour trip Marian called police stations and hospitals but could learn nothing about Caitlin.

When they finally pulled up at Virginia Tech, police ushered them through the crowds to a room where a bunch of other families were gathered. None of them had heard from their kids. All of them were guessing the worst.

A police officer and a minister walked up to them. Marian wanted to run, to run so fast she could get back to yesterday. Instead, she stood stock-still, bracing for the shock.  “Mr. and Mrs. Hammaren?” the officer asked. They nodded.  “I’m sorry,” he continued. “Your daughter was pronounced dead at five minutes after ten this morning.”

For the last 19 years, everything Chris and Marian had done had been built around Caitlin. She was their world. Now she was gone. Marian and Chris cleaned out Caitlin’s room and attended a memorial service for all the victims. Over 600 people attended. Marian was numbed by the stark finality of it all. It was impossible to accept, impossible to understand they would never hear from Caitlin again.

The authorities returned Caitlin’s laptop. Marian stared at it for a long time. There would be no more of her funny e-mails or pictures with her sorority sisters. Marian opened it and saw a small strip of paper taped just above the screen. The note said, “God, I know that today nothing can happen that you and I can’t handle together.” Marian knew that Caitlin had taped those words in there because she totally believed them. But Marian could not.

When her grandparents had died a few years before, Marian had grieved deeply. But she had also known that each of them had lived a long and complete life. She was able to handle their passing. It hurt, but it was acceptable.

Caitlin’s death was not. Every time she picked up her cell phone she expected to hear her voice. She couldn’t go into Caitlin’s bedroom. She could barely go upstairs at all. She could talk to Chris about how she felt, but he was suffering in the same way. She needed to talk to someone else, but who? The only person she really wanted to talk to was Caitlin.

With nowhere left to turn, she started talking to God. Well, not exactly talking. She yelled. She screamed. Asking, “Why?” How could something like this be? Why did God let her daughter get taken away?” But God was as silent as Caitlin.

In her frustration - her rage - she found herself buying books on spirituality. She burned through them. She even read the Bible - something she hadn’t done since Sunday school. She was looking for something - looking with a vengeance. She wanted a response. An answer. An answer from someone, or something, that would make up for the fact that she would never get the one message she desired - that she would never again hear from the one person she truly needed to hear from.

Sometimes something little would happen. In the middle of a book, those earnest words taped to the inside of Caitlin’s computer would pop into Marian’s head: Nothing can happen that you and I can’t handle together.

One August day, about four months after Caitlin’s death, Marian was sitting in the backyard, reading. It was a gorgeous morning, with the sun pouring down, a morning not too different from the one two years before when she and Chris had loaded up the car and driven their daughter down to college as a freshman,

Out of the blue, those words of Caitlin’s sounded in her head. “Nothing can happen that you and I can’t handle together.” But this time she felt like they were being said to her. And all at once, as deeply as the sun’s warmth penetrated the earth, those words penetrated Marian. Deep in her bones she believed them. She knew with utter conviction that she would see her daughter again.

She prayed, “Lord, I don’t understand Caitlin’s death. I’m pretty sure I never will. But I do know that you’re here with me. And because I know you are present in my life - I know that Caitlin is safe in your care.”

Caitlin’s passing had brought Marian out of her old world and into a new one – a world where things can go wrong - more wrong than she had ever imagined. But now with the God’s help she knew that there was nothing - absolutely nothing - that could happen that she couldn’t get through.

No matter how broken things are, even if they seem “too broke to mend,” God can mend them. There is a happy ending. As Fredrick Buechner put it, “Resurrection means the worst thing is never the last thing."  

I hope you came here in a happy Easter mood. I hope you are rejoicing over all the ways that God has blessed you and that you sincerely feel that life is great. The Easter message of new life in Christ can fill us with joy.

But some have come here today in the darkness of grief and despair. This may be your first Easter without your Mom or your Dad or your spouse or your child. Grief can make you feel like things are “too broke to mend.” But God can mend all that is broken. With the resurrection God has defeated death and your loved one is alive in Christ. You will see them again in heaven. There is a happy ending. And as difficult as grief is, God has promised that there is nothing that can happen that you and God can’t handle together.

You may have come here in the darkness and hopelessness of having lost a child, not to death, but to drugs or alcohol or to plain old rebellion. What a terrible and painful situation that is. It feels like things are “too broke to mend.” But if God is powerful enough to defeat death he can defeat addiction and rebellion. He can give you the strength you need. He can mend your broken heart and assure you that there is nothing that can happen that you and God can’t handle.

You may have come here today dressed up in your Easter clothes, looking good, but feeling phony. You have a smile on your face but there is an ache in your heart because your marriage has died or you have lost your job or you have lost your house or you have lost your pension or you have lost your health, or you have lost your purpose in life. It feels like things are “too broke to mend.” Let me tell you, my friends, God who raised Jesus from the grave and defeated death can give you the strength to overcome the problems that are putting a dark cloud on your life. God has promised that there is nothing that can happen that you and God can’t handle together.

Mary Magdalene and the disciples thought things were too broke to mend. Because Jesus died their lives were in a shambles.

Because he rose from the dead they were able to live in a completely different way.

Instead of having hearts “too broke to mend” their hearts beat high with hope and joy.

Instead of hiding out in fear they went public with the proclamation that Jesus was Lord.

Instead of being afraid of death, most of them were martyred for their faith.

Things weren’t easy. There was no promise it would be. But they lived out their lives knowing that there was nothing that could

happen that they and God couldn’t handle. That same promise is there for you.

There is nothing in your life that is too broke to mend.

There is nothing that can happen to you that you and God can’t handle together.

Easter tells us there is a happy ending, for God has promised to be with us every step of the way in this life and he has promised

that even when we die he will raise us up to live with him forever.

Christ is risen! God can mend all that is broken! Alleluia. Amen.

GUIDED BY THE GOSPEL: GATHERING • GROWING • GIVING