Sunday, April 24th, 2022 – Easter 2
Philip’s Reflection: “The Breath of God” (John 20:22)
The story from the Gospel of John is set in the evening of Easter day, with the disciples
hunkered down behind locked doors, fearful of what might happen to them at the hands
of those who had killed Jesus just 3 days before. In the morning of that same day, Mary
and the women had found the stone rolled away from the front of an empty tomb. And
Mary had said to the disciples “I have seen the Lord” and she told them all that the risen
Christ had said to her. But who could believe her? – the disciples had seen the empty
tomb with their own eyes, they had seen his pierced and dead body removed from the
cross, and had seen him lain in the tomb. How could death be undone? Far from being
jubilant and triumphant on this Easter evening, we have instead a group of followers
who are grieving, utterly confused, in shock, standing at the brink of defeat and despair.
And out of fear, they have shut the doors of the room in which they are meeting – they
want to shut the world out, with all its suffering and danger, and shut themselves in, to
find a place of sanctuary and refuge, where they can try and make sense of all that has
happened in recent days – the Passover supper with friends in that upper room, the
foot-washing, the betrayal and denials, the trial, the flogging and the crucifixion of their
Messiah. And now, even his dead body gone from an empty tomb....
All of us today can understand their fear. When we’re fearful, we also want to shut the
world out. Whether it’s the long months of a global pandemic; or the horrors we witness
on our television screens – of the deadly effects of gun violence, or an opioid epidemic
that seems to get worse and worse each month, or now, the heart-breaking scenes of
death and destruction in Ukraine, or the testing of new and even more deadly military
weapons – aren’t we tempted to shut it all out, to turn off the tv, to turn inwards, towards
ourselves? Afraid of the decisions that we have to make, of the risks we have to take, if
we are to be more than unwilling spectators. Afraid of our seeming helplessness in the
face of suffering or situations of injustice that seem to multiply daily, we shut the doors
and retreat inside, into our homes, or the safety of our sanctuary, withdraw into our
locked selves. Immobilized by fear and indecision, just like the first disciples.
And unexpectedly, into this gathering of frightened people behind closed doors, in the
midst of their fears, the risen Christ steps in and “stands among them” and greets them
with the words “Peace be with you”.” And he shows them the mark of the nails in his
hands and the wound in his side, and they now recognize him as their risen Lord.
“Peace be with you” Jesus says again and we’re told that their fear now turns to joy and
they remember his promises – “I will not leave you desolate; I will come to you.”; “My
peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled.”
But there’s more to his appearance than the fulfillment of his promises; more even than
the witness of his resurrection, more even than the living evidence that God overcomes
death; and it is this – Jesus “breathed on them and said to them “Receive the Holy
Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any,
they are retained.” Not only is Jesus the one who faithfully keeps God’s promises; but
now he is the one who breathes on them the breath of God and gives them the Holy
Spirit. He now creates them anew for a new life, a life to be lived beyond the locked
doors, a life that is both forgiven and forgiving.
And it is a new life, a vision of a new world, that requires them to see themselves and
others differently. It is a vision that calls them to let go of that which is past, to forgive
that which is past if they are to experience the new life in Christ. Jesus tells the disciples
to trust in the forgiving power of the Holy Spirit – and it is through his gift of the Holy
Spirit that they can be transformed and begin anew.
And friends, the same is true for us today, both individually, and as a community - as we
emerge from the wilderness of a global pandemic; when we have retreated in fear,
when we have searched for meaning and purpose; when we have doubted God’s
promises. When we have blamed rather than forgiven, when we have retained past
grievances rather than let them go; when we have been hard, and judgmental, and
unforgiving, especially of ourselves. Yes, when we too have locked the doors,
sometimes because we had to, but more often when we were afraid to let the world in.
And at times we have also tried to shut out Jesus – afraid of what happens if we do
listen to his promises, and afraid of what happens if we do not.
On the stormy Sea of Galilee, Jesus came to the disciples – “It is I; do not be afraid” he
says (Jn 6:20). Up on a mountain, after the transfiguration, Jesus says to the disciples
“Take heart, it is I, do not be afraid.” And in this Upper Room, now risen but also here
with them in person, he says to the disciples, “Peace be with you”. “Receive the Holy
Spirit”. And to Thomas, a week later, “Do not doubt but believe”. And if we listen
carefully, I think we can hear those same words this morning – “Peace be with you” - in
this sanctuary, with its closed windows and closed doors, as Jesus comes among us
and transforms our fears into joys, and sorrows into hope. For Jesus comes to offer
peace, not judgment, he breathes on us the breath of God, the Holy Spirit, to give us
new life that makes it possible to open the doors – of this sanctuary, of our homes and,
yes, the locked doors of our hearts – to go forth confidently into the new world to which
we are called, to become the people that God means us to be.
This is the gift of the risen Christ, assured by the Holy Spirit, that comes even here,
even among us now, to give us peace. It is the same breath that, in the beginning,
breathed life into Creation; the breath that, in the valley of the dry bones, breathed into
the bones and they came to life; and it is the same breath of God that Jesus breathed
into the disciples in the Upper Room in the evening of the first day, that now breathes
new life into us and this beloved community. So, unlock the doors, open them wide and
let us, as forgiven and forgiving people, receive the Peace of Christ and rejoice in the
Risen Lord - “Breathe on us, breath of God, fill us with life anew, that we may love what
thou dost love and do what thou wouldst do....” (VU 382). Amen.