Anastasia
Luke 20: 27-40


November 11, 2001

This is almost a parable. It's a parable in that its narrators take the situation they propose and throw it down alongside Jesus and challenge him to give a judgment. That's what parable always do: we don't sit and listen to the nice story; we have to decide and judge. Still, this is not one of Jesus' parables.

We do not know her name. We seldom do. However, I believe it would be appropriate to give this most unfortunate woman and career widow the name of Anastasia. The parable, after all, is not really about her, but about her name - Anastasia, the Resurrection.

The Sadducees thrust this poser into Jesus' face, but for them it was not a parable in which they believed. This was an impossible situation, for there was no resurrection in their mind. This world is everything and the rewards go to those who have the rewards already - which for the most part turned out to be the Sadducees, a notoriously wealthy class of religious types who acted as if worldly power directly reflected divine power. Some things, of course, do not change.

The Sadducees wanted Jesus to take this parable seriously, so seriously that he would get entangled in its nonsensical web. Who would the woman link up with in heaven? The original husband, the last husband/brother; or perhaps most interestingly, one in the middle? For the Sadducees, this would be amusing and Jesus would prove the fool.

The story is based upon a not uncommon practice among many societies when a man dies without children. If there is an unmarried brother available he is obliged to marry the widow and any children born would be considered those of the dead husband. This is called the levirate in anthropological language, and there is also a matriarchal version, the sororate, in which a sister marries the widower of her deceased sister. That happened in my family.

Katherine, the youngest sister of my father, died quickly of leukemia, leaving behind a six-month-old daughter Corinne and husband Paul. Gertrude, the next oldest sister, married Paul and raised Corinne. Paul died last year in his 80's. When Gertrude dies, whose wife will be Paul's in the resurrection?

Anastasia's pain must have been immense if this story has a grain of truth to it. How could she cope with the suffering of her husbands, and then have the hope to marry again? There are more than a few of you who know exactly this situation. There is only hope because there is resurrection, a new life rising up out of the forces of death.

Anastasia's most powerful weapon is her memory. She can remember and put the pieces back together of the past and people. Yes, she remembers pain and at times can feel it thoroughly. Nevertheless, re-membering brings back life and a very different kind of life.

A very different kind of life is how Jesus responded to the cunning Sadducees. Things will be entirely different, for people in the resurrection by definition do not die anymore. They are like angels and don't get all wound up in the possessiveness of this world, least of all about who is one's proper husband and wife. Anastasia can remember them all and be grateful for how kindly in her suffering they treated her. Paul remembers Katherine and Gertrude and rejoices in both of them.

Remembrance Day is a mournful day if all you can do is remember the way things were and wish things were like that again. A dead past means a present without hope. If the tragedies of past wars are all you can remember, you have lost sight of the truth, and as a result there will be no future without war.

As you and I remember all that overwhelms us from the past and indeed the very recent present, we bring back to life the truth and love of these people. As we remember, we set out to live in a new world, full of grace and truth, hope and love: a new world in which there will be no more possessiveness, no more division, no more hatred which converts people into commodities. Pollyannish? If you and I as human beings cannot imagine a world different than the one we so ceremoniously celebrate at the 11th minute of the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, then we are the tragedies, destined to repeat death, instead of re-member new life.

The story has a surprise ending. Jesus has proved to the Sadducees on their own terms that God is a God of the living, a God who resurrects, a God who re-members. The surprise is that some of these scribes agreed, "Teacher, you have spoken well." Jesus' enemies never did anything but mumble and murmur against him, never gave him any credit, and certainly never elsewhere admitted he was right.

If our enemies can believe in a living God and a completely new life, can you re-member too?

Preached by Robert Kitchen
Knox-Metropolitan United Church
Regina, Saskatchewan