Reacting to the Resurrection

John 20:19-31; Acts 4:32-37

This year we spent 40 days in Lent, complete with all those contemplative scriptures and hymns before arriving at Holy Week. Then we celebrated Palm Sunday, followed by a service on Maundy Thursday. Finally Easter arrived. We sang our Alleluias, heard the miraculous Story, gave thanks to God, and then Easter was over. We went home to a glorious meal but by Monday morning most of us were back to our regular routine.

There is nothing really unusual about this. This year was my 60th Easter celebration. When I was much younger, and Easter baskets were part of the deal, I am sure I gave thanks for Easter as long as the candy stash held out. Truth is, these days I usually am more excited about the days after Easter than the sacred event. On Tuesday Dwight and I traveled to Cincinnati to catch a couple ball games. We talked, Dwight suffered through my music and we discussed why baseball is so superior to all other sports. It was a great to do nothing other than argue over who was the greater first baseman, Stan Musial or Albert Pujols.

Of course that is not what happened following the first Easter. The resurrection marked the beginning, not the end of the story. The followers of Jesus were absolutely overwhelmed by the Easter event. Today too many folks view Easter as an event that guarantees our place in heaven once we die. For the early Christians, the Easter event changed their eternal and daily outlook completely. The writer of Acts recorded, “No one claimed any of the things which he possessed was his own, but they shared everything they had.” Stories are recorded of churches becoming the center of communities where the congregations became large families. Each person claimed responsibility for their neighbor both spiritually and physically. Barnabas sold a field he owned, gave the proceeds to the church and allowed the Apostles to share the money among those who were in need. Justin Martyr wrote, “We who once coveted most greedily the wealth and fortune of others, now place in common the goods we possess, dividing them with the needy.” The early Christians took very seriously the Old Testament idea that creating heaven on earth was possible. They took care of their own and created a radical new life together. We are not sure how long the early church operated in this fashion. The Epistle of James indicates that more than one congregation was destroyed by its failure to continue this practice. Perhaps they were able to function this way because they believed Jesus would return in their lifetime. Perhaps it was simply too hard to continue this particular lifestyle for more than a generation. Regardless, large portions of the Gospel of Luke and the Book of Acts speak about economic issues and how God’s greatest competition seemed to come from the love of money.

When we hear these stories we naturally become skeptical. To some it sounds like they were running some sort of idealistic commune. How could a community survive with such naïve principals? Surely these were only isolated examples and really didn’t apply to the whole Christian community. That is why our lectionary readings link Acts with the story of the disciple Thomas. I suspect there is a little Thomas, a bit of a skeptic in each of us especially when it comes to what we believe.

You know the story. Jesus suddenly appeared among the disciples. All but Thomas was there. Jesus greeted the disciples with the words, “Peace be with you.” We could quickly dismiss this as just another way of saying hello or we can place ourselves into the panicked lives of the disciples. Their leader had been killed. They were in hiding in fear of being discovered. They had heard rumors that Jesus was alive but the report had come from a group of women whose words seemed less than reliable. They were confused and frightened. The words, “Peace be with you” were exactly the words they craved to hear. They wanted some comfort food. They needed assurances that some kind of normalcy would return to their lives.

From birth I suspect many of us instinctively desire to be comforted. I can remember the good old days when my grandchild lived less than an hour away. Before Zach and Martina “kidnapped” my grandson and took him to Louisiana, I would often have the opportunity to rock Andy to sleep. He knew the routine: bath, bottle, bed. When Andy would visit, my job was to prepare the bottle, sit in the rocker and wait for his arrival. Sometimes his hunger and fatigue put him a little over the edge. He would cry out as his grandmother lifted him into my arms. But like a good grandfather I would feed him, sing a lullaby and promise God’s peace would be with him through the night.

“Peace be with you” carries with it the assurance that beyond the reality we experience there is hope. It reminds us that God continues to work for creation even when fear paralyzes us. “Peace be with you” is more than a greeting; it is an invitation to claim the healing power of Christ.

At the critical moment in the disciple’s confusion and disillusion Jesus stepped back into their lives and offered peace. Then without saying another word, he showed them his wounds. The words of Jesus, when linked with the wounds of Jesus, amplify the promise of Jesus, that peace is possible.

Frank Honeycutt, a Lutheran minister wrote, “We are wounded people. Sometimes we pretend, even with those we know fairly well, that’s nothing wrong. It is often considered bad form to confess our weaknesses, so when asked we often say, “Everything’s fine”, even though we are lying through our teeth. Jesus refuses to pretend. He says, “Peace be with you” and then he hikes up his shirt. Jesus knows peace only comes when we deal seriously with his wounds, and our own.”

Enter Thomas. The disciples tell him everything was going to be fine because Jesus was back. But Thomas was skeptical. He had heard that sermon where the preacher gets up and says, “Don’t worry folks. It is a sad day today but a better day is coming. This life is just preparing us for that reward once we reach heaven and see Jesus.” Thomas wasn’t interested in tomorrow. He wanted proof that the power of God could change his life now. The death of his friend had broken his heart. He wasn’t interested in heavenly promises. He needed to be healed today. When he saw Jesus, his savior’s first words were, “Peace be with you.” The second were just as powerful, “Touch my wounds.”

Ever have some one touch your wounds? I am not talking about physical wounds. I am talking about the wounds deep in side, wounds that linger, and fester. Every have someone bandage your soul? Ever sat with someone that you trusted to the point you could cry and not be embarrassed?

I suspect each of us, man, woman or child, have wounds that need to be healed. I suspect that each of us, man, woman or child, would like to discover peace in our lives. And I suspect most of us, man, woman or child, fear admitting our wounds because it might expose our weaknesses. Let me share a little secret. The Church is filled with wounded people who are saved by a wounded Lord. Jesus said to Thomas, “Peace be with you and then he showed him his wounded side.” Then Thomas and Peter and John and all the other disciples preached a gospel of peace to the people of Jerusalem, exposing their wounds, exposing their fears but most importantly, exposing their faith. Then they called the new converts to a life of spiritual, intellectual and economic dependency on each other.

You see this faith thing is not just between you and God. It is about the people of God sharing in our woundedness, sharing in our faith, and sharing in our recovery. It is about being skeptical and thinking no one else hurts as much as we do and then discovering we all have to deal with some kind of pain. It is about remembering that the church is Christ’s healing agent and the healing does not begin until the wound is exposed. It is about saying “Peace be with you”, with the conviction of someone who has been wounded and healed. It is about sharing that pain, much as the early church shared their wealth, in order to discover that through Christ our wounds can be healed.

In all of my years of ministry I have never defined my successes in terms of budgets, buildings or membership. It has always been about people who are hurt, people who are lost, and people struggling to find purpose in their life. The church best represents the body of Christ when it visits the sick or the home bound. The church best represents the body of Christ when it embraces the young girl who is pregnant, or is a healing agent after a divorce, or gathers around a family when they have lost a loved one, or offers support during difficult economic times. The church does not turn a blind eye to the downtrodden. The church does not desert the mistake ridden. The Church does not condone sin but neither does it condemn the sinner. The church always remembers that he who was without sinned died for us. Because of Christ’s wounds, and because he has healed our wounds, as Christ’s ambassadors our words, without any reservations, should always be, “Peace be unto you”.

Those are transforming words, but how willing are we to be transformed. In our country one in six children go to bed hungry. That is a fact. In our world 30,000 children die daily of preventable diseases. That’s a fact. In the Presbyterian Church, few congregations spend more than 2% of their budget on local needs. That’s a shame.

Perhaps we need to go back to some of the models embraced by the early church. Perhaps we need to have the courage to wound our pockets a little bit so that when we say, “Peace be to you”, we are willing to give a piece of ourselves to the one who is wounded. Poverty is a huge problem with no logical answer. But I think if an answer is to be found, we “skeptics” who dare to follow Christ are going to have to reconsider putting ourselves and offerings behind the words, “Peace be to You”. It is more than a slogan. It is a commitment to a transforming way of life.

To God be the glory. Amen.