Sunday, March 30, 2008

Delivered by Rev. Ellen Brantley

SERMON: Wounds of Peace

TEXT: John 20:19-31

The trouble with titling a sermon before you write is that the title might not fit when you’re finished. Such is the case with today’s message.

A more appropriate title for this sermon is, “What now?”

It was Easter evening, just hours after the women had told the disciples that the tomb was empty and Jesus had risen from the dead. But as you might imagine, the disciples were having trouble believing it. Rather than dancing in the streets in celebration, they were probably still pinching themselves, wondering if it was all just a dream. Not only that, but they were frightened – so much so that they locked themselves in the house. They didn’t know what was going to happen next. Would the Jewish and Roman authorities come looking for them, to accuse them of stealing the body, to put them to death as well?

While they may have remember Jesus’ words to them before he died, “Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not let them be afraid,” indeed their hearts were troubled. They were paralyzed with fear, wondering all the while, “WHAT NOW?”

Even though Jesus had been preparing them for his death for the three years that they ministered together, they still didn’t know what to do next. We’ve been there, haven’t we? Even an expected death can throw us off track, can turn our lives upside down, can cause us to ask, “What now?”

Then suddenly, Jesus was there with them, saying, “Peace be with you.” Then he showed them his wounds. Some would say that he did this to prove to them that he wasn’t a ghost, that it was really him, in the flesh. (Never mind the fact that he just appeared in the house without opening the door.) But I think there might be more to it than that. Perhaps Jesus showed them his wounds to send the message that life goes on, despite our wounds. Even while the scars are still fresh, new life can happen.

This idea is demonstrated most beautifully by those who are willing to donate the organs of a loved one who has just died. While their wounds are still fresh, while their grief is just beginning, they are allowing new life to happen for a stranger whose life hangs in the balance.

Jesus also shows his wounds to help us remember that he understands our pain, both physical and emotional: the pain of a slow death the pain of betrayal, the pain of unanswered prayer. Through it all, the first gift he brings is peace.

Now its time to answer the “WHAT NOW?” and get them moving again. Jesus declares, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” Then he breathes on them, just as God breathed life into the first human at the beginning of creation. That breath of life is also the wind of the Holy Spirit, and through the breath of the risen Christ, the disciples receive the gift of the Spirit as Jesus promised before his death.

It sounds a bit like Pentecost, doesn’t it? And it should. For the resurrection of Christ is the very reason that we call ourselves “Christian” and the very foundation of the church. The disciples really were the first church, the first Christians, and we would not be here without their witness. And listen to what Jesus tells them about their purpose: “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

It’s a little troublesome, isn’t it? Certainly we can understand the concept of forgiveness, and it makes sense that church should make forgiveness a focus of our ministry in Christ’s name. But “retaining” the sins of others? What’s that all about? Does this mean that we can look at the world and judge who should be forgiven and who should not? Certainly not!

One commentator interpreted the forgiving and retaining of sins in relation to Jesus’ commandment at the Last Supper: to love one another. “By loving one another as Jesus loves, the faith community reveals God to the world; by revealing God to the world, the church makes it possible for the world to choose to enter into relationship with this God of limitless love. It is in choosing or rejecting this relationship with God that sins are forgiven or retained. The faith community’s mission, therefore, is not to be the arbiter of right or wrong, but to bear unceasing witness to the love of God in Jesus.”

I was talking with someone the other day, and she was sharing her difficulty in forgiving her husband for years of irresponsible financial management. “I’m just so angry,” she said. “And I know it hurts me more than it does him to be so unforgiving, but I just don’t know how to let it go.” My suggestion to her was one that I heard from someone else years ago: If you can’t bring yourself to forgive someone, maybe you can at least ask God to forgive them. The more you ask God to forgive, the closer you will come to the point where you’re able to forgive as well.

Finally, we come to the part of the story where Thomas doubts the report that Jesus has risen because he was not there at his first appearance in the house. “Unless I see,… I will not believe,” Thomas says. A week later Jesus appears again to the disciples, Thomas included. He invites Thomas to touch the wounds on his hands and side, saying, “Do not doubt, but believe.”

We hear it as a scolding when Jesus says to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” But the emphasis of Jesus’ words is less on Thomas and more on “those who have not seen.” Here, Jesus is looking ahead to future generations, to us, knowing that he’ll not be able to appear bodily before us. And yet, because of the witness of these disciples and contemporaries of Jesus, future generations will believe and will be blessed for it.

Furthermore, it is in our doubting and our questioning that we discover and learn. It is in our seeking Jesus that we find him. Indeed, he does appear to us, though not bodily, in so many other ways: through these words written by his disciples and others; through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit; through the prayers and forgiveness offered to us by the church in his name; through his peace which passes understanding; through the sacrificial love of believing family and friends.

It was a number of years ago that another pastor shared with me the story of an 11-year-old girl who had written a poem called, “I Saw Jesus Today.” I don’t have the poem, but as it was told to me, it was made up of several sentences something like this: I saw Jesus today. For a moment it looked like my mother, but I know it was Jesus because of the way she loves me no matter what. I saw Jesus today. For a moment it looked like my teacher, but I know it was Jesus because of the way he taught me about how God wants us to treat each other. I saw Jesus today. For a moment it looked like the school nurse, but I know it was Jesus because of the way she took care of me and dried my tears.

Does Jesus appear to you? And when he does, do you ask yourself, “WHAT NOW?” We in the church are his disciples today, and he calls us to share his peace, his love, his forgiveness, his life with the world. May we all be blessed in our believing. May we rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy. And may we be moved by the Holy Spirit to be witnesses of the resurrection our whole lives long.

To the glory of God! AMEN.