St Margaret's Church Prestwich

Rev Sue preached this sermon on Sunday 27 April. Here it is for you again:

It’s the evening of the first Easter Sunday. That morning, Mary Magdalene and then Peter and John ­— had seen the empty tomb for themselves. Mary had also encountered the Risen Christ in the garden. Though she had shared this with the disciples, they were still hiding behind locked doors, afraid that the Jewish authorities would come after them next. They were grieving the loss of their leader, their teacher and their dearest friend bewildered and confused by the reports they had heard. It was all too much to take in.

And then, suddenly, Jesus was standing among them.

It is hard to imagine the mixture of emotions they must have felt: surprise and joy mingling with grief, guilt, and anger. But fear still held sway.

Have you ever wondered why the disciples don’t come across as just a little bit more heroic in the gospels? Jesus had hand-picked them, yet they seemed to fail him repeatedly. And yet, these very gospels are based on their own accounts. Why didn’t they make themselves look better? Was it modesty? Shame? Or perhaps it was a strong desire to show the difference that Jesus made to their lives —  turning  confused and hesitant followers into confident ambassadors for Christ.

At that moment the disciples were frightened and had no idea what to do next, but  Jesus knew exactly what they needed. First, he offered them peace. “Shalom”. “Peace be with you”. It’s a common greeting, but full of meaning. It would have brought to mind Jesus’ words from John 14, spoken at the Last Supper as he prepared them for his death:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid”.

Although they had forgotten those words in their confusion, hearing them again would have stirred memories of Jesus speaking to them before his death. It was all part of the divine plan — Jesus knew exactly what was coming. Next, Jesus showed them his wounds. From now on, they will become the way that Jesus is recognised. This was not a return to life as it was before. Jesus is resurrected, not resuscitated. He appears inside a locked room. His wounds are not erased – they are the scars that tell us that we cannot have Easter Day without Good Friday. They speak of the love with which he freely chose to die for us. They remind us that the worst thing that could happen has already happened. And yet, here he stands. Gazing on the wounds of Jesus takes away fear, not because we believe nothing bad will happen to us, but because we now know that what we most fear will not destroy us. Jesus does not reach down from his glory offering to lift us out of sin, grief and chaos —  he stands beside us, weeping with us, and reminding us that it is not the end of the story.

Fear gives way to joy. The disciples are no longer worried about the Jewish authorities. They once more have Jesus in their lives. But there is more to come.

A second time, he says, “Peace be with you”. But this time he also sends them out. They have a mission – just as the Father sent Jesus, now Jesus sends them. They have travelled with him, learned from him, suffered with him (albeit from a distance) and now they have experienced the joy of the resurrection. The good news is not just for them, it is for others to share. So Jesus equips them with the Holy Spirit, the power that will change their lives. He breathes the Spirit onto them. The Greek word used for “breathe” here is not one in everyday use – it is the same word used in Genesis when God breathes life into Adam. The same word used in Ezekiel’s vision of dry bones brought to life by the breath of God.

With the Holy Spirit comes the responsibility of proclaiming forgiveness. It is a serious matter. This isn’t what Bonhoeffer calls cheap grace. It’s not a universal pardon that lets everyone off the hook. It is an offer of a deep reconciliation with God and with one another, which comes at the price of Jesus’ death and our own willingness to acknowledge where we have gone wrong and to be willing to change.

The encounter with the Risen Christ and the receiving of his Spirit changed everything. A few weeks later, those same disciples who had been cowering behind a locked door, afraid of the Jewish leaders, would boldly tell the High Priest that

 “We must obey God rather than any human authority”.

But one of the disciples was missing. We don’t know why, but Thomas wasn’t present with the others. The following Sunday, he was with them. And once again, Jesus appeared — not to individuals, but to the community meeting together, on the Lord’s Day. The others had told Thomas what had happened, but their testimony wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to see and touch for himself. Jesus understood his needs and deep desire —  to have a first-hand encounter with the Risen Christ. One week later, the Lord came again. To simply be in Jesus’ presence was enough for Thomas. He was overwhelmed. He blurted out “My Lord and my God”.

The other disciples had responded with joy. Thomas responded with worship.

Jesus had hinted at his divinity before, saying “I and the Father are one,” but no one before had ever called him “God”. Thomas’s reluctance to rely on the testimony of others and his desire for personal experience were rewarded by a profound realisation. The man he had lived alongside for three years was also God.

So where does that leave us, who weren’t there in those early days after the resurrection? We have now received the whole story. We know that Jesus died on the cross, that he was raised from the dead, and that when we greet the Risen Christ, he is both the human being who suffered excruciating pain and was killed, with a body as frail and as temporary as ours, and he is also our God who breathes his Spirit upon us and gives us the peace and joy that transforms our lives.

John’s gospel contains only two beatitudes (those sayings beginning  “Blessed are…”). The first is at the Last Supper after Jesus washed his disciples’ feet. 

“Slaves are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them”.

The second is here, to Thomas:

“Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

Ours is not a second-class experience – we meet Christ in the pages of the gospels as we hear his words and follow his life. We meet him in prayer as we open our hearts to him and listen to his will for us. We meet him when he breathes his Spirit upon us and sends us out as his messengers, to be blessed both by humbly serving those around us and by our lives and our words inviting others to share our faith.