Resurrection Continued
03-31-08
In my ministry I have been privileged to serve three very different congregations. These churches don’t have that much in common. The congregations gather in vastly different circumstances. The architecture of the buildings differs drastically, and they all worship in different styles. One of my churches insisted on a traditional processional and the Gloria Patri every Sunday despite having an average of 35 people in worship. In another of my churches it would be a common thing to hear Norah Jones, or Elton John pieces played during the offertory. This church has more than one musical group as opposed to a scraggly choir of seven elderly people, and the pastor reads the scripture passage as opposed to the liturgist.
Easter Sunday I talked to a young man visiting us for the first time. He said to me, "You do church the way it ought to be," That struck me as a nice compliment, but a funny concept. We all have ideas on what church ought to be, don’t we? We are comfortable with certain elements, styles of music, and orders of worship.
Our gospel gives us a picture of a church which had no pipe organ, or even an old upright piano. No choir. No pastor, even. In fact, it’s a picture of church at its worst, the most miserable little group of people ever to take upon itself the name "church." What we see are Jesus’ disciples gathered behind locked doors after Christ’s resurrection.
They really are a depressing lookin’ bunch. For long, repetitive, chapters in the Gospel of John, Jesus has been preparing his disciples for his death and resurrection. He has gone over, and over, and over again, his commandments to love one another, to be bold, to trust him, to be the branches to his vine, to feed on the Bread of Life, to be ready to follow him at all costs. At its basic level, the disciples should have understood what was being asked of them.
However, they aren’t thinking too clearly, or trusting to deeply. They are cowering behind closed doors like frightened animals. I would love to have been a fly on the wall, an observer of all they are trying to process in their minds and hearts. Yet, we can only imagine what they are talking about. Are thy angry at each other? Are they pointing a finger at Peter for being such a chicken and denying the Lord? Are they accusing each other of running away when Jesus needed them the most? The disciples must have been ashamed. This group had left its leader in the lurch. Each one knows that when the chips were down, they ran out on Jesus. Even as these disciples hide from the Roman enemy that lays just outside the door, they have nowhere to run from the shame that lays within their hearts. So they remain huddled together in an attic, frightened of what is outside and frightened by what is inside. They huddle in a fear, a grief, the guilt, that perhaps we have all experienced at times as we run away from Christ.
You see, they are supposed to be the first church of Jerusalem. They were supposed to be the ones proceeding confidently out into the world, full of the Holy Spirit, announcing the Easter triumph of God. Instead they are huddled in fear, hoping that nobody in town will know that they’re there. Rev. Tom Long, says it is here that the church is at its worst — "scarred, disheartened, and defensive." 1
Rev. Long asks, "What kind of advertisement might this church put in the Saturday paper to attract members? ‘The friendly church where all are welcome. (In other words, "Open hearts, Open minds, open doors’? Hardly.) Locked doors and fear are not signs of hospitality. ‘The church with a warm heart and a bold mission?’ Forget it. The first little group of Christians is the church of sweaty palms and shaky knees and a firmly bolted front door.
Could this even be called a church? These disciples have no sanctuary, no pulpit, no choir. It has no plan, no mission, no conviction, no nothing. It certainly didn’t look and feel like what church ought to be, at least, not in my mind. Here is a church with absolutely nothing going for it except....hope.
There is hope! If we read further, the "locked doors" keep out the enemy who can kill the body, but they can not keep out the Risen Messiah. Jesus strolls right in, stands among the frightened, guilty disciples and says, "Peace be with you." Put another way, "May God’s peace, a peace characterized not by the absence of anxiety, but by the presence of justice and mercy, be with you." Christ’s greeting is a proclamation of forgiveness. And Jesus doesn’t say this just once, he says peace be with you three times. Twice to the frightened disciples behind the locked doors, and then again to Thomas who unfortunately did not experience Jesus’ first guest appearance and comes to believe, with Jesus’ second visit a week later. It takes a few times for us to recognize the risen Christ, and Christ’s peace sometimes. What wee see here that the blessing of forgiveness from the Risen Christ does not allow us to return to business as usual. Rather, Christ’s forgiveness transforms us and empowers us for new life. In one breath Christ’s disciples are forgiven and given new power, the power of the Holy Spirit. They once again start to resemble a church.
I think that it is Christ that makes church, church; His proclamation of forgiveness, his peace. I think that despite our music, and stained glass windows, despite the preaching and mission, despite all of our educated evaluation and dedicated planning, worship, real worship, is not of our creation. It’s a gift. It is a space for the risen Christ to breathe the Holy Spirit upon us, to re-create us, if you will, to be in ministry to one another, and especially important, to the world beyond the church’s doors.
If you want to see us, stripped of our sacred trappings, our pretenses peeled away, then look here in this twentieth chapter of John — you will find a group of timid souls hanging on to one another behind locked doors. Without the presence, the presence which makes our human gatherings the church of God, this is about all we are. And the good news is that it was to this church, which was hardly church, that the living, Risen Christ came saying "Peace be with you" (John 20:19).
Here’s the thing, I think that those of us who are fearful about the future of this church don’t always recognize our concerns as fear. Sometimes we want to keep the Spirit that we feel intact, by keeping worship and structure and music and so forth exactly as they are. In fact, sometimes I think that our laborious planning, or selecting and evaluating, is just another form of those disciples’ locked doors. We plan the service, proofread the bulletin, make sure everything is tied down, so we can keep it all fixed, predictable, and under control. We may not be leaving any room if Christ should show up and bring the Holy Spirit with him.
Listen to what power Christ brings them and us. It is not the power to move mountains or to leap tall buildings with a single bound. It is not the power even to touch and heal the blind, to change water into wine, or to make a thousand fish out of one, to end poverty, or to heal our own damaged bodies and souls. Jesus breathes his own Holy Spirit into his disciples, and it is a power which comes precisely out of our deepest brokenness and needs. Let me repeat that, Jesus breathes his own Holy Spirit into his disciples, and it is a power which comes precisely out of our deepest brokenness and needs. Fear transforms into faith, forgiveness overcomes anger, hope defeats despair, and the renewed little band of believers is sent out into the world with the very power of God’s Spirit to live and proclaim the good news… and the world is created all over again.
This is a world that not only includes the frightened huddled disciples in an attic, it includes you and I. And surely, this power of the Holy Spirit, is a power which our world today longs for, a world broken by hurting and resentment, vengeance and alienation… a power we long for, in our pain and resentment, guilt and anger. We cannot ignore, that in a move that seems foolish, Jesus entrusts this power, this new life, with the most frightened, ashamed, broken people in the world.
Our faith story tells us that it was while we were yet self-centered that Christ died for us, that God loves us so terribly, so embarrassingly, so overwhelmingly, that we are transformed by that love into new people. He entrusts us with the power and guidance of the Holy Spirit, a power that allows us to participate in God’s mission of love and forgiveness.
Church is a gift of a God who refuses to leave us be. God comes to us. Christ’s presence makes this church. To the church which had nothing at its beginning, Christ gives everything. Spirit. Mission. Forgiveness.
We are church, not because of the building we’ve built and cared for, not because of the choir, the organ, the preaching, or the various activities. We are church because, to us, Christ has come and given us his gifts of Spirit, mission, and forgiveness, commissioning us to give them to the whole world in his name.
That’s why we’re called church. So let us continue to be open to the movement of the Spirit in this congregation. So that as we are re-created, we may help re-create a world where Christ’s peace and God’s Spirit heal, and empower, and defeat despair, and that the gift of worship may be open and experienced by all those who long to know God. Thanks be to God. Amen
1 I am indebted, in this sermon, to Thomas Long and to William Willimon, Whispering the Lyrics, Lima, Ohio: CSS Publishing Co., Inc. 1995, pp. 89-94.
Blessings,
Melissa