Lessons for the Second Sunday of Easter, Year B: Acts 4:32-35; Psalm 133; 1 John 1:1-2:2; and, John 20:19-31.
It’s been one week since Easter Day, the Feast of the Resurrection, one week since the excitement of the empty tomb, one week since the chaos of the empty tomb. It’s been one week since our first Easter “Alleluia” after the Lenten hiatus. “Alleluia! Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!” It’s been one week since the resurrection, and the disciples are still in the same place they were on Easter night, behind locked doors.
But, if Jesus’ resurrection was supposed to have been a big deal, a life-changing event, why are they still in the same place behind locked doors? Did the empty tomb make a difference? Did the empty tomb change them? Did the empty tomb change their vision of and for the world? DId the empty tomb do anything for them, except make them afraid and confused? From the vantage point of the locked room, it doesn’t look like the empty tomb has made any difference at all! After all, the disciples are still behind locked doors, and they are stuck in the same place they were in last week.
So, it got me to wondering: It’s one week after Easter Day! “Alleluia! Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!” One week after Easter, what has the empty tomb done for us? Has the empty tomb transformed us? Is your vision for the world any different than it was? Do you engage the world in new ways? What difference has the empty tomb made in your life? If I’m completely honest then I must admit that my life still looks a whole lot like it did last Sunday, the week before, and the week before that. And when I look at the world it too looks pretty much the same as before.
But something struck me this week! My usual approach to the narrative we heard this morning was to be quite critical of the disciples. I mean: They are stuck in the same place behind locked doors. And don’t get me started on Thomas – “doubting” Thomas, who had been with Jesus likely since the beginning but still doesn’t get it. They should have done better! They should have been better than this! Death has been defeated. “Alleluia! Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!” So, why aren’t their lives different? But, of course, what I am really asking (when I’m so critical) isn’t really about the disciples; it’s about my life! Why is my life not different after Easter? Why am I stuck behind locked doors? Why do I doubt? I should be better. I should do better. I should be living better as if the empty tomb is more. I should be living more powerfully, more fully, more authentically. After all: “Alleluia! Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!”
But recently I’ve begun to hear the narrative of the disciples behind locked doors differently. Here’s what I think today’s gospel is telling us:
- The empty tomb is a big deal;
- The empty tomb is a life changing event;
- The resurrection does make a difference in our lives; and
- Finally, this all takes time.
Living fully the resurrected life takes time. It is not a one time event. It’s something that we grow into. It’s a process. It’s a way of being and a life to be lived. By the grace of God we evolve into resurrected people through our relationships and the circumstances of our lives. God wastes nothing. Every day we step into resurrected life. It’s not always easy and some days are just plain hard, but every day offers us the invitation to resurrected life.
Sometimes I think we come to Easter Day and approach the empty tomb expecting to wake up on Monday to a whole new life and whole new world. But, I am guessing that you awoke on Easter Monday, just like I did, to the same life and the same world you had on Good Friday. And that is not because the resurrection didn’t happen (It did!) or that it failed (It didn’t!) or because Jesus didn’t do “the Jesus thing” in our lives (He is!). No, we awoke like that on Monday because living the resurrected like and walking the way of Jesus takes time.
Maybe we need to let go of the fact of the empty tomb and start claiming the story of resurrection. There’s a difference between fact and story. Facts are one-dimensional, informational, static. Stories, on the other hand, are multidimensional, transforming, and dynamic. Stories take us out of the moment in time and into a movement across time. The empty tomb is a fact – a fact witnessed at a moment in time by the disciples. Resurrection, on the other hand, is a story – a story that moves us across the time of our life and the life of the church. The fact of the empty tomb is not the story of the resurrection, just as the facts of Jesus life is not the story of Jesus and the facts of your life and my life are not the story of our life.
Facts are just the beginning, the starting point for the story. The fact of the empty tomb is the starting point for the resurrection story. Too often, however, we take the facts as the entire story. Isn’t that what we’ve done with St. Thomas? What comes to mind when you hear Thomas? Be honest! He was a doubter. “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.” That Thomas doubted may be the only fact that comes to mind. It is so prevalent that we call him Doubting Thomas.
What if that fact, however, is just the starting point for his resurrection? What if it is not the whole story? What if where we start is less important than where we go, where we end? Thomas’s story doesn’t end with “doubting?” Thomas’s story ends in India. He died there as the Apostle who brought the story and the way of Jesus to the people there. And there he died a martyr’s death, run through with five spears by five soldiers. That doesn’t sound much like a doubter to me. That sounds like someone who was transformed by the story of resurrection. It just took a little time.
Yeah, we know “Doubting” Thomas but let’s not forget “Confessing” Thomas. “My Lord and my God!,” Thomas says in recognition of a new relationship, a new worldview, a new way of being. Somewhere between Doubting Thomas and Confessing Thomas is the story of resurrection, at least in Thomas’ life. All that stuff about Thomas’s doubt is just a starting place. It’s neither good nor bad. It’s a starting place, and we all have our starting places.
What is your starting place? What are the facts of your life today? The starting place for the story of our resurrection is whatever is. Whatever your life is today, whatever your circumstances are, that’s the starting point for your story of resurrection. So if you’re dealing with deep loneliness, sorrow, and loss, that’s your starting point. That’s the room which Christ enters. If you are locked in a house of fear, confusion, or darkness, that’s your starting point and the place in which Jesus stands. If illness, old age, disability, or uncertainty are facts of your life, that’s your starting point and the place in which Jesus shows up. If you feel lost, betrayed, disappointed, overwhelmed, that’s your starting point and the house Jesus enters. If joy, gratitude, and celebration are the facts of your life today, that’s the starting point for your story of resurrection.
All those things I just described and a thousand others are the many ways the doors of our house get locked. Whatever it might be for you, it is just the starting point. The great tragedy is not that the disciples are still behind locked doors. That’s just their starting place. The great tragedy will be if the disciples refuse to unlock the doors, refuse to open the doors, and refuse to get out of the house.
What are the doors that are locked in your life? What are the things that have kept you stuck in the same place? I’ll say it again, that’s just the starting place. Don’t judge it as good or bad, right or wrong. It’s just where you are and it’s the place Christ shows up. It happened twice in today’s gospel. Both times the disciples are in the same house behind the same locked doors and Jesus shows up. He stands in the midst of them. The walls and the locked doors of their house could not keep Jesus out. And the walls and locked doors of your house will not keep him out.
He steps into the midst of our house, through the locked doors, and breathes peace and life into us. He breathes peace and hope into us. He breathes peace and courage into us. He breathes peace and strength into us. And that breath of peace is the key that unlocks the door. So take a deep breath, take it all in, let it fill and enliven you. Let it give you the hope, courage, and strength to unlock and open the doors of your life, and then get out of the house.
Grace is Everywhere 