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Text: John
20:19-31 (Acts The Foundation of Peace In the name of him who was dead and rose again, and who now
lives and reigns to all eternity, dear friends in Christ: In this morning’s Gospel reading we find the
disciples on the evening of that first Easter day, holed up together in a
locked room somewhere in the city of Jerusalem – a city whose name means “the
foundation of peace”. It’s a name that
seems to mock the disciples, because peace is one thing they do not have. Their hearts are in complete turmoil. They are afraid of all their enemies out
there somewhere lurking in the darkness that they assume are looking for them
to bring them to trial and torture and death just like they did to their
teacher; and they are even more confused about the strange events of the past
three days. They went from the thrill of
riding high on the wave of their Lord’s popularity on Thursday, through that
terrifying night in the garden when he was arrested, his totally unexpected and
unthinkable condemnation, suffering, and death on Friday, and then they passed
yesterday in what can only be described as numb shock and disappointment. The man they had believed to be the promised
Messiah was dead. They had been so sure
of him; but then all their hopes and dreams had been dashed to pieces. That’s the way this day began too – but then
the women came back from the tomb saying it was empty – and that angels told
them Jesus had risen. That sounded
downright crazy. So Peter and John went
to check it out; and sure enough, the grave was open and Jesus’ body was no
where to be found. The burial sheet was
there neatly folded up; but they didn’t see any angels. And then later Mary Magdalene came along and
said she had talked to Jesus face to face, and that he said for everybody to go
meet him in Galilee. Well, they pretty well dismissed
what she had to say. The poor girl must
have been having delusions due to her unbearable grief; but it did start some
of them wondering ... And then, later in
the afternoon, Peter came rushing back in saying that he also had seen the
risen Lord and spoke with him. They
questioned him at length, and he was so determined and sincere that they
finally became convinced: this was no
hallucination or wishful thinking on Peter’s part. Besides, having spent three years with Jesus
had taught them if nothing else to expect the most unusual and amazing things
from him. Based on Peter’s testimony and
taking everything else they knew into consideration, they came to believe that
Jesus really had risen from the dead.
And while that was great news to them, it also loaded them with feelings
of guilt and shame for having abandoned the Lord in his hour of deepest need. Remember, they all said they would stand by him
through thick and thin; they even said they would die for him – and they all
ran away into the dark when the pressure was on. Over the next twenty-four hours they all had
come to believe that they had been mistaken about him – that he wasn’t the
great Christ and Son of God they had once confessed him to be. Now it seems they were wrong about that
too. What would he say to the group of
them now? How would they be able to look
him in the eye? And so it is that we find them (most
of them anyway) sealed up together in a locked room in the city called the
foundation of peace. And what I want you
to see is that it’s a prison of sorts – or a tomb if you prefer. It’s a picture of what’s going on inside each
of them. They are locked up with chains
of fear and shame and remorse, not having the courage to go out to face the
world, and hating being trapped here wondering, whispering, and waiting in
fear. And this is an important point
that we should not gloss over. These
disciples believe in the Lord’s resurrection from the dead and yet they are
still filled with fear and feelings of guilt.
They understand that Jesus had
risen but have not yet grasped what that meant for them. They knew the truth but not the saving
power of the death and resurrection of Jesus. And the same can be true for the
disciples of Jesus even today. From time
to time because of the circumstances we face, be it one or life’s major
tragedies like death and divorce, or trouble at work or with relationships, or
maybe that strange recurring pain that I really should go see the doctor about
one of these days but I don’t want to for fear of what he might say, or
financial worries, or struggles with temptation … whatever it is, we all can
find ourselves locked up in a dark room within
in fear, in turmoil, and in guilt, our hearts hard pressed by dark storms of
anxiety. Oh sure, if asked we‘d all say
we believe in the death and resurrection of Jesus – but at such times, we’re
really not applying its power and meaning to our lives. We’re letting ourselves be put in spiritual
prison. Which is why we should really sit up
and take notice of what goes on in this morning’s Gospel lesson. What we see is that Jesus comes to his
disciples where they are: in their self-imposed
prison of fear. It’s not a question of
them preparing themselves to be worthy to receive him, or going out to find him
wherever he is. No, Jesus comes to where
they are; he enters their prison to set them free. And he appears to his disciples
speaking his peace to them. It’s the
first thing he says, and he repeats it several times. And these are more than words wishing them
well; no, his word of peace has the power to affect it. It’s like when he told the storm, “Peace, be
still” and immediately it settled down, so also now the power of his word of
peace settles their troubled hearts.
This time it’s not a command that controls the wind and waves, but it’s
power of his death and resurrection to comfort and assure his followers of God’s
great love and forgiveness. He then
reinforces the word by showing them the wounds in his hands and side. This is not to confirm his identity – every
single one of them knew it was Jesus – no, the purpose of showing his wounds is
to present himself to them as the one crucified for their sin and raised to
life to show that the sacrifice was fully paid.
By showing the wounds on his risen body he’s showing the picture worth a
thousand words that says, “Because I live – I who died for your sin, see here’s the proof – you too will
live; and nothing that happens to you, nothing in heaven, earth, or hell can
prevent it. The marks of his suffering
and death in his risen body are the proof positive that with respect to the
salvation of God’s people, “it is finished”.
The marks of the nails and spear are in a very real sense the true
foundation of peace upon which believers can build lives free from doubt,
worry, and guilt. And it’s worth noting that many
people believe this room in which Jesus appears is the same one in which he and
his disciples ate the Passover meal together on the night that Jesus was later
arrested. And it does make sense that
the nameless benefactor who provided a safe and secluded place for the very
controversial Jesus to celebrate the feast with his disciples would also allow
the disciples to hide here from their enemies.
If so, it’s quite appropriate that Jesus now appears in his risen body
at the same place where he and his disciples had celebrated God’s great
deliverance of his people from bondage and oppression – and specifically where
Jesus had instituted the Lord’s Supper in which he gave them his body and blood
to assure them of the forgiveness his about-to-take-place sacrifice would
secure for them. They didn’t understand
it then; but now it comes full circle as he again, presumably in the same room,
shows them his body crucified and raised to life, and the wounds from which
came the blood that bought their redemption and peace with God. But whether in the same room or not,
the connection should be clear to us. In
any case, Jesus having thus granted them God’s peace and shown them its
foundation in his own flesh, the disciples’ reaction is to be overcome with
joy. Gone are their fear and guilt and
confusion. At this point they know more
than the fact of the Lord’s resurrection, they have personally received its
impact in their own lives. And that has
set them free. And having been freed,
the Lord Jesus prepares them to go forth and free others in the same way that
they have been released. Again he speaks
his peace to them, and then he commissions them by breathing the Holy Spirit on
them and granting them the authority to declare the forgiveness of sins in his
name. It’s sort of preview of Pentecost
when the Lord would send his Spirit on them again in a fuller measure – but
it’s more than enough for them at present. And so the gathered disciples are
now comforted and strengthened with the peace of the Lord – a condition they
continue to enjoy even afterward, when Jesus is no longer visibly present among
them. It makes no difference: their lives are now shaped and ordered by the
peace they have with God in their risen Savior – all of them except for Thomas,
who wasn’t present when Jesus appeared.
St. John gives us no clue about where Thomas was, or what he was doing,
or why he was absent when Jesus made his first appearance to the larger group
of disciples. And it doesn’t help us
much to speculate about such things. But
what we can say is that Jesus could have appeared to him also, either at
a time when he was with the others or separately like he did to Peter, but that
he chose not to. Which begs the
question, “Why?” Why did Jesus choose
not to appear to Thomas during that first week?” The short answer is
that Thomas was not yet ready to receive the Lord’s peace – but that short
answer may require some explanation. He
has been called “doubting Thomas”, but with the way we use the term doubt
these days we might conclude that he was just showing some healthy
skepticism. Doubt can be a good
thing. If something sounds too good to
be true, it probably is; and it’s your judicious capacity to doubt that saves
you from being suckered. But Thomas is
not merely doubting in this sense. The
word used to describe him might better be translated “unbelieving” – and not in
the sense that he can’t believe what he’s hearing from the others; but
rather that he willfully and forcefully chooses not to believe. He has plenty of evidence and first hand
eyewitness testimony to establish the fact – but it’s a fact that he does
not want to believe. Why might that be?
Well, you all know from personal experience that there are none so
stubborn and resistant as those who do not want to admit their own faults and
fears. Stubborn resistance and the kind
of pseudo-intellectual pride we see in Thomas usually come of not wanting to
confront the truth about oneself. If
there’s a reason we don’t find him locked in that room on that first Easter
evening, let me suggest that it’s because that’s not a picture of his spiritual
condition at that time – or at least, he’s not aware of it. Like so many others, though he’s been burned
by life’s fiery trials, he still thinks he can handle them on his own. He would deny being in any kind of prison. But consider what happens to him in the days that follow the
Lord’s appearance. All the others have
their feet squarely set on the foundation of peace. No, they may not have all the answers, and
they still have lots of things to work through, but they work through them in
the certain assurance and power of God’s forgiveness and love. Though Thomas didn’t see the Lord, he can see
this – and he knows that something profound has happened to them. And again, just based on the evidence and
testimony he has, the fact of Jesus resurrection is established – it’s only
that he denies it. So, put yourself in
his sandals and imagine what he’s thinking.
“Jesus did rise, and he appeared to all the others – but not to me.” Now, imagine sitting with that thought for a
few days. He asks himself over and over, “Why would Jesus appear to the others
and not to me?” He cooks with that for
eight long days, and when he thinks the question you can bet that the answers
come: not worthy, not qualified, not
good enough … before long he’s got a long list of sins and shortcomings that
only he need know. But we see that not
appearing to Thomas unsettles him and exacerbates his lack of peace. It makes him experience the imprisoned
feeling the others had. So he spends
eight days in the hell of being the only disciple Christ did not appear to. This is highlighted by two things
that he does. First, we see that he
claims that just seeing the risen Lord would not enough for him. He insists that he actually must touch the wounds – and again, let me
suggest that this is not to confirm Jesus’ identity, he’d know him if he saw
him – but this is specifically so that he can know God’s peace found in the
Lord’s body crucified and raised to life.
The second thing that’s quite telling is that he sticks around with the
others, and that eight days later he’s locked up in the room with them. If he really thought they were all a bunch of
nut cases for saying that they had seen Jesus alive, he’d be long gone by now. Instead, he’s sticking close to them. He isn’t about to let Jesus show up again
when he’s not there. He’s aching to be
set free like they have been. So the next week, it’s to a very broken, contrite, and
ready-to-receive Thomas that Jesus finally appears. And now that he’s ready to hear it, Jesus
announces his peace to him also, and he holds forth for Thomas’ inspection his
wounds that are the foundation of that peace with God. Instead of condemning him for his former
unbelief and blind pride, he urges Thomas to find assurance and strength for
his weak faith by touching his wounds.
And Jesus does something more: he
proclaims a special blessing for those who believe without really seeing. That blessing is for us and for all the other believers who
have not experienced a personal appearance of the resurrected Lord. And I hasten to add that the blessing is not
for those who simply believe in the fact of the resurrection. We’ve already seen that it’s possible to
accept the fact and not receive its forgiving and freeing power. It’s precisely because of this that the Lord
Jesus has provided us with a way to experience his resurrected presence in a
way that emphasizes that very power. We
know that Jesus is always with us. And
we know that we can always hear him speak to us in his Word. But it’s when he shows himself to us that he
specifically shows the wounds that are the foundation of our peace with
God. I’m speaking of Holy Communion, of
course, in which we see and touch by faith the body of Jesus crucified and
raised, and his blood that was shed for our redemption. That’s why after consecrating the sacramental
bread and wine I turn to you and say, “The peace of the Lord be with you
always.” When I say it, I’m holding the
peace with God in my hands and I’m about to give it to you to feel, touch, and
taste. And those who are ready like
Thomas was ready, who hunger and thirst to be set free of their sin and know
the peace of the Lord, receive it. And, as Jesus said, those whom he
sets free are free indeed. We see this
in this morning’s reading from Acts, a story that takes place in the city of
Jerusalem several weeks after Pentecost.
In it we have the disciples who were formerly imprisoned in fear and
guilt now out boldly and openly proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus in the Temple
courts. When the same authorities they
were once afraid of arrest them and lock them up, they prove that they can’t be
held. They are completely free now. And when the temple guards come to arrest
them again, we find that it’s not the disciples, but their enemies who are now
living in fear and confusion – and well they should be, because the Lord is
putting the heat on them, even as he did for Thomas, to prepare them to receive
the peace of the Lord. May Christ in his mercy continue to
grant us this peace and so keep us free.
And may he use us, as he did his disciples, as his emissaries to bring
his peace to the world. In Jesus’
name. Amen. Soli Deo Gloria! |
