Last week I invited you to come back today because “we do this every
week.” Someone thought I was being sarcastic. They thought I was
criticizing “two-timers,” you know, those folks we only see two
times a year, at Christmas and at Easter. But actually I’m really happy
to see them whenever they appear. No, I was serious when I said “we do
this every Sunday” because every Sunday is Easter in the church. Every
Sunday is a celebration of the resurrection. As far as we are concerned the
first day of the week is always the first day of a new creation in the eternal
reign of God.
Last week we heard Mark’s version of the Easter story, or rather, the
“unfinished” version Mark hopes to see completed in our own lives,
in our own encounters with the risen Christ. This week we turn to the gospel of
John and hear much the same message, though told by means of a different
literary method. Where Mark uses the literary technique of the never-ending
story, John uses what we might call the “prototype,” or
“template” story, a symbolic example of the way things happen time
and again. After his narrative of the crucifixion, John tells us the story of
the first Easter as the dawn of a new creation. Mary walks in the new Garden of
Eden and meets the gardener, who is the risen Christ. And after telling us what
happened on the First Easter, John tells us what happens every Easter, that is every Sunday in the church. On the first day
of the week the disciples gather in a room. On the first day of the week the
disciples gather, and the risen Christ walks among them. On the first day of
the week the disciples gather, the risen Christ walks among them, and the
disciples are transformed.
What happens when the church gathers on the first day of the week? John sees
three movements taking place. First, according to John, we move from fear to
peace. Second, we move from doubt to faith. And third, we move from withdrawn
to sent out. The presence of the risen Christ makes it
happen. As far as John is concerned, you can’t come to the gathering of
the disciples on the first day and walk out unchanged. If the disciples are
here, Jesus will be here, and something’s going to happen that will leave
you no longer the same.
What happens as we gather on the first day of the week? We gather in fear. We
carry all the burdens of the week we’ve been through. Somebody’s
gone to the doctor and heard bad news. Somebody’s faced a tough situation
at work. Somebody’s had a bad argument with a parent or a partner or a
friend. The newspapers are telling us the economy not going well. The
television is warning us gas prices are creeping up again and that everything
will cost more as a result, your check won’t go as far as you hoped. The
news is all bad, all the time, and the fear is palpable. It comes out as
anxiety, anger, intolerance, grief, depression, disappointment, cynicism,
skepticism, bitterness, helplessness, hopelessness, heartlessness, numbness,
passivity, paralysis…. All these negative emotions, all based on fear,
here, among the Easter people of God? O, yes, we are human, and the world does
its best to drag us down into the graveyard of fear-based, death-embracing
self-centeredness. We gather here weary, worn, afraid, our minds focused on our
own problems.
But suddenly, Jesus is with us. The preacher says, “The Lord be with you.” And he is! We respond, “And also
with you.” And he is! We gather and the Lord is with us. We lift up our
hearts. We raise our eyes. We look to God again. We remember the good news is
better than the bad news is bad. We assert hymns of praise against the death
dirges of the daily news. We encourage one another with good cheer. The Lord
has been sighted among us this week. He is not dead. He is not even asleep.
Look, he has healed someone over there. Look, he has helped someone over there.
Look, he has led us through another week, and we are still here to praise his
name. Look, he is here today in our music, in our prayers, in our handshakes,
and in our hugs. His love outlasts the worst the world can do to us. The Lord
walks among us, and he speaks to us. He speaks through the preacher. He speaks
through the choir. He speaks through the stranger we met for the first time
today. He speaks through the scripture and he speaks in our own hearts. And
what does he say? What does he always say? “Peace be
with you.” He breathes new life into us, and says, “Receive the
Holy Spirit.” We remember as those disciples remembered what Jesus told
them in the upper room the night in which he was betrayed, the night before he
was crucified. This was his instructions to the disciples just before the
crucifixion which they would not understand until after the resurrection. Jesus
says:
I have said these things to you while I am still with you. But the Advocate,
the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you
everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you. Peace I leave with
you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not
let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid….I have said
this to you, so that in me you may have peace. In the world you face
persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world! (John 14:26-29,
16:33).
Now it makes sense. When Jesus says “Peace be
with you” and “Receive the Holy Spirit” we understand now.
And in this First Day encounter with the risen Christ we move from fear to
peace. It happens every week.
Every week, though, somebody gets left out. There are always the Thomases who miss the transforming experience everybody
else celebrates. Maybe they find it easier to sleep in that Sunday. Maybe they
are too busy to bother or too dragged down by the burdens they are carrying to
gather with the rest of the disciples on the first day. Or they may be here,
but they just don’t see it. It doesn’t happen for them, they
don’t encounter Christ, they are not freed from their fears, and they may
even resent those people who do feel happy and peaceful and restored. Seems to
them everybody else is blessed by God but not them. Not them. They can’t
believe it is real. Their bad news is real. Their burdens are real. Their
sorrows are real, but the news that Christ is risen and nothing can separate us
from God’s love feels like a fairy tale, self-deception, too good to be
true. They just can’t trust it. “Unless I see the mark of the nails
in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his
side, I will not believe.” You see? The story of Thomas is John’s
way of saying the same thing Mark tried to tell us last week. Easter
isn’t real until we experience it for ourselves. Until we meet the risen
Christ in our own experience and know his embrace and feel his love and let his
Spirit fill us with joy, Easter is just a story told by fools.
I meet with so many people who struggle with doubt. They often feel guilty
about it. But doubt is a natural expression of healthy spirituality. Like
Isaiah said, God’s ways are higher than our ways, God’s thoughts
beyond our thoughts (Isa 55:9). In our finitude we
hold illusions about God, so we are bound to be disillusioned at times. God
does not act by our blueprints or timetables. The meantime between prayers and
answers can be a pretty mean time. And so we doubt. But the Bible honors our
doubts, even expresses them for us in places. Every time some rigid orthodoxy
is set forth among God’s people which threatens
to box God into a system of beliefs about God, a prophet rises to challenge it
with a counterproposal. To the chapter and verse that God will always bless
them and no nation can ever defeat
We all go through our Thomas times, when God seems far away. But God can stand
our questions, and all will be answered in time. In the meantime, our questions
and doubts keep us engaged, asking, seeking, knocking. The opposite of faith is
not doubt, but despair. Only when we abandon hope, turn away altogether, give
up on God and turn our backs, are we lost. The Thomases
among us may struggle and doubt, but they are still here with us and we should
hold them close. Because as long as they are still here, the day will surely
come when their questions will be answered and they will encounter God’s
grace in the deepest places of their hearts.
They may have to wait longer, but if they will just show up, keep coming,
joining the disciples for the celebration on the first day, one day, it happens
to them, too. Their eyes are opened. Their fears are dissolved. Their burdens
are removed. They are touched by the risen Christ and understand for the first
time, or maybe once again, the significance of his wounded side and
nail-scarred hands, just how far he will go to love them. And here on the first
day gathered with the disciples they meet the risen Christ themselves and move
from doubt to faith. It happens every week.
Every week on the first day we come here wounded, weary, anxious, doubting. We
withdraw into ourselves. It is the most natural reaction to fear and pain,
almost instinctive, like when you touch a hot stove. You pull back, turn in,
stick with your own, avoid the new, minimize the risks, hunker
down. The disciples are right at first to hide in their upper room with the
doors locked. The world is hostile to their gospel of life. But their encounter
with the risen Christ gives them such courage and peace, such faith and love,
that when Jesus sends them out, they go to the very people they were fearing to bear witness to the grace they have
received.
What are we afraid of? As long as there are people who profit from hatred and
violence and death, the world will be hostile to the gospel of peace. As long
as there are people who gain from injustice, poverty, and fear, the world will
resist the gospel of love. As long as there are people who prefer hostility,
division, and dominance, the world will resist the gospel of reconciliation. We
naturally withdraw from such a world to the safety of our own. But once we have
been released from fear, we have the peace that passes understanding. Once we
have received the Spirit of God, we have the love that leaves no one out. Once
we have met the risen Christ, we have the mission to carry that peace and love
out to the fear bound world. On the first day we gather withdrawn into our own
burdens and fears but then we meet the risen Christ and we are sent out with
the energizing joy to tell the good news, to be the good news in a bad news
world. It happens every week.
John wants us to know what happens in the church on the first day. It’s
Easter. Jesus, the Christ, whom the world crucified, God raised from death.
It’s not just the first day of a new week. It’s the first day of a
new creation. We gather in his name and he comes among us. By the power of his
presence we move from fear to peace, from doubt to faith, from being withdrawn
to being sent out. It happens every week as far as John is concerned.
Now I ask you today: is that the same Christ who comes among us when we gather
in this place? Can this idealistic vision of the church be realized here among
us, in our place, in our time? You know the challenges facing our church in
these days. You know our burdens and fears. We need more people. We need more
resources. We have felt afraid for our
church and its future. But is it possible the risen Christ is sending us out to
find those people who need the church? Is it possible God wants us to go out
and find the resources we need? Could this be the Lord’s way of pushing
us beyond our own comfort zone to show to the world how Christians bear witness
by making peace with those who disagree with us instead of casting stones from
behind our protected walls? What does the Lord want us to experience on the
first day of a new creation? And what is he sending us out to do?
The Lord be with you! (And also with
you!) Peace be with you. Receive the Holy
Spirit. Go out and tell the world that Jesus Christ is risen
and he is here in this place every time we gather on the first day. Amen?
May we pray?
O Lord, make us your Easter people. Not just one Sunday a year, but every
Sunday, come among us and free us from fear and doubt. Encourage us and send us
out. And let your church rise with the freedom to love all people, with the
courage to bear witness and with the joy that is contagious because Jesus
Christ is risen. Amen.
Mary Anne Biggs, Pastor
Nekoosa United
Nekoosa