Sermon: 2nd Sunday of Easter
19 April 2020 – Archdeacon Mark Long
Acts 2:14b, 22-32 and John 20:19-31
I greet you with the words of Jesus to the disciples in today’s Gospel reading, “Peace be with you” on this 2nd Sunday of Easter as we ourselves are invited to encounter the resurrected Jesus, and – as our Collect today reminds us – we are called to give testimony of these encounters to others in such a manner that they, too, come to believe. We do this in 2020 in a context much more closely attuned to the experience of the early disciples than we may have yet experienced in our lifetime: they feared the Jewish leadership, the possibility of arrest, even the possibility of death; we fear the Covid-19 virus, a possibility of death, but perhaps even more than death, the possibility of loss of income and the life-resources this income provides us with as we ride out our lockdown and consider our futures. Our context is different, but the emotions that we are experiencing are likely very similar.
In the narrative provided by John’s Gospel this morning we find the disciples self-isolating, locked-in rather than locked-down, fear a real emotion holding them in its thrall and exacerbated by the perplexing news from Mary Magdalene that she has seen the Lord – she has seen Jesus – whom they knew without doubt to be dead. We can imagine that as the evening moved into nightfall that they needed to hear those words from Jesus, “Peace be with you!” They had had most of the day to reflect on Mary’s words, to ponder their truth and their meaning, to talk amongst themselves; and we can imagine the discussion, the confusion, the perplexity of their conversations, even their disbelief. And suddenly to have Jesus in their midst, despite locked doors, would have been a heart stopping moment! They needed peace on a multitude of levels, and in generous proportions.
Now what is the nature of this peace, this gift that Jesus gives them? The peace Jesus offers is peace in the midst of their fear, in the midst of their perplexity, in the midst of their disbelief; it is not a peace that delivers them from their fear and from the other emotions that encompass them in this moment. Jesus’ gift of peace is not a magic wand that suddenly returns them back to the life they knew just a few days previously; to what they had considered to be “normal”.
The gift is more than just the words, “Peace be with you”; it is having Jesus there, the encounter – as disturbing as it doubtless was to have Jesus appear among them when they knew the doors to the house were locked. John’s Gospel highlights the importance of encounter: here in chapter 20 early in the morning Mary encounters the risen Christ, that evening a larger group of disciples has this encounter, a week later (also in chapter 20) we are told that they have a similar encounter when Thomas is present, and thereafter (in chapter 21) another encounter on the beach when they return for a time to doing what they know, what gives some sense of a their previous normality: fishing. Each encounter takes them a step forward, offers them an opportunity to grapple with their doubts and fears, and builds their trust in a new normal where death isn’t what death was, where all that has confused them over many months gains some clarity; where the temptation to flee, to deny, to fear begins to transform.
In John’s Gospel this first evening encounter – on the day of resurrection – is also the moment of Pentecost: having offered the gift of peace a second time, Jesus breathes on the disciples. Breath for the ancients [I explored something of this in my sermon three weeks ago] was the sign of life, the ultimate gift of God, the gift not just of life, but of divine life; and Jesus makes this connection as he breathes on them, saying, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” Receive that which gives not only life, but divinity, too. The transformation is not immediate, more incremental. The disciples – in going fishing – return briefly to what made sense of life before they ever encountered Jesus. The encounter on the beach is John’s version of the great commission, one in which the disciples (Peter in particular) are encouraged by Jesus to “Feed my Sheep”.
We then pick up the narrative with Luke in the book of Acts, and in today’s reading we see the courage and confidence that is developing out of these encounters with Jesus, and we get to hear the life-changing sermon that Peter preaches after what we more traditionally consider to be the Pentecost experience. The disciples are transformed from fearful, overwhelmed, perplexed learners (because that is what disciples are; not necessarily perplexed, but learners) into leaders who speak with the same confidence Jesus had addressed the crowds with during his ministry. It is a courage that calls people to repentance and faith, that lets go of the past and embraces a whole new perspective on life’s purpose.
As we rehearse the Gospel story, as we remind ourselves of our history as people of Faith, as we immerse ourselves in the resurrection accounts, so we have the opportunity to encounter the resurrected Jesus in this story. We have an opportunity to reflect on our own encounters with God in the light of our faith-history, and are given the opportunity to reflect and embrace our own experiences of fear, of feeling and even being overwhelmed, of confusion and doubt and faithlessness, and yet knowing not deliverance but God present in it all; God with us.
We stepped into lockdown just over three weeks ago, not sure what this experience was actually going to be like. For myself, I did so with a deep sense of relief as physical distancing – as we practiced it briefly before lockdown – didn’t seem to be sufficient in the light of our growing awareness of the dangers of Covid-19, and I saw our Worship gatherings as death traps for those considered especially vulnerable. Three weeks in, with an extension in place, and I realize that I embraced lockdown with a certain amount of naivety; perhaps we all did? My growing awareness of the economic implications of lockdown leaves me fearful for the future, deeply concerned for those who have already lost jobs and income, and for the many who still will. I awaken sometimes from a night’s sleep unrested, fretful, stressed. I awaken knowing that the world has changed, that I don’t really comprehend to what extent, but knowing that the world I stepped out of will not be the world we will all step back into. I pray, knowing God will not deliver us, but that God is with us; that God still breathes on and into Creation, and that I am – we are – part of Creation. The gift Jesus gave those early disciples is our gift, too; as Jesus encountered them, God also encounters us: in our context, in our crisis, in our time. We can trust that we, too, will experience an incremental shift from fear to confidence, from being overwhelmed and perplexed to a greater place of clarity and vision.
As we look forward we do so trusting that God is with us, that the divine breath – the Holy Spirit – is our spirit, and that the gifts of the divine spirit are available to us. Paul, in his 1st letter to the Corinthians, encourages us to “… earnestly desire the most helpful gifts” (1 Corinthians 12:31), and goes on to name these as “… faith, hope, and love …” (1 Corinthians 13:13). These three gifts, along with empathy, are critical to embracing the new normal that will have levels of suffering, struggle, and challenges beyond what many of us have had to face in our relatively privileged and well-resourced lives. We will discover that this pandemic is a great leveler, and that in the midst of personal and community hardship there is room for a new way of living and relating. It is going to take courage and vision to embrace the opportunities that will present themselves in a manner that is good for all and not just for me or for us. It will require our deep commitment – founded in our faith, nurtured with love, envisioned with hope – to step back into our world, to embrace our neighbours and even strangers with empathy and compassion, and in so doing give testimony to our encounters with the risen Christ, and witness to the purposes of God in our world. Amen
No comments:
Post a Comment