Pentecost 23 C: Luke 18: 9-14
One of my favourite films of all time is Chocolat. Set in a French village, just after the Second World War, the film centres around the character of Vianne, a woman who, with her daughter wanders the world following the north wind.
In sharp contrast to Vianne, is the mayor of the town - the Compte de Raynauld, a very proper religious man, who controls the village – ensuring that everyone maintains the proper decorum and religious observances.
Vianne and her daughter arrive in the Compte’s village at the start of Lent and set up a chocolaterie – offering warmth, love and hospitality to all who enter her shop.
Vianne’s customers include several characters who represent the broken and the suffering people of the town:
Josephine who is abused by her husband,
Armande, the grandmother, played by Judi Dench who has lost her relationship with her daughter and grandson and feels that her life now has no meaning.
The righteous townsfolk are caught in a bind: should they follow the proper religious observance, living by the rules of a godly life as upheld by the Compte de Reynauld, or ought they embrace the warmth, love and acceptance being offered to all by Vianne. We are invited, along with the townsfolk, to consider what it is that leads to a rich and fulfilling life. Ought we live like the Compte de Reynauld, or like Vianne?
I share this, because I think there are some interesting comparisons we could make between the film Chocolat and the parable that we’ve heard this morning.
In the parable, two men walk into a Synagogue to pray. A Pharisee, an upright leader of the Jewish religious elite and a tax collector, signifying the lowest, the most undesirable type in society. Both men begin to pray. The Pharisee walks to the front of the temple – you can imagine him addressing God in a loud, self-important voice saying: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’
In contrast, the tax collector stands up the back of the temple, trying to fit in with the brickwork. He would not even look up to heaven, but instead was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’
The Pharisee and the sinner in this parable are both extreme examples of human nature – they’re polar opposites. While I’m sure we can both identify people we’ve known who are like either one of them, or indeed we recognise them within ourselves from time to time, these characters are meant to illustrate the extremes of the human responses that are made to God.
The Pharisee has got it all together. He’s what we would call self-righteous. Notice that his own sense of self is predicated on how much better he is than ‘other people.’
Instead of grappling with our own identity or looking at ourselves, we too can focus on what makes us better than others. Such a stance means that to respect ourselves, we need to run others down. And, like the Pharisee, we sometimes like to tell God how much better we are than the sinners, trying to impress God with our religious CV’s: “I attend church meetings twice a week, volunteer at the local nursing home, give money to charity.” Or whatever. In short, like the Pharisee sees himself, sometimes we act as though we are so sure of ourselves that we have no need of God whatsoever.
The tax collector, in contrast is well aware of his shortcomings. He approaches God in all humility: “Have mercy on me, a sinner.” In doing so, the tax collector makes his reliance on God is clear. Because he knows he cannot enter into a relationship with God on his own account, the tax collector instead places himself at God’s mercy.
It’s important to pause for a minute to say something about sin. Sin is not about the ‘ bad things we do’ – likewise confession is not about listing these things so that we can have them struck off our list. Sin, in its most universal sense is simply the things, which separate us from God. We human beings are by our very nature are broken, sinful people. Sin, simply put, is the things we must put down, or let go of in order to return to right relationship with God.
We none of us – the Pharisee, the Compte de Reynauld from Chocolat, nor you nor me can ever ‘do enough’ to make ourselves right with God. It is in fact pointless to even try. Confessing our sin as the tax collector does then, is to accept the fact that the only way to enter into a relationship with God is on God’s terms: by accepting God’s gift of grace as it is offered to each of us – knowing that none of us is worthy of the gift in our own right.
This gift of grace, of hospitality to the outsider – to the broken and forsaken sinner, is most clearly visible in Luke’s account of Christ’s death on the cross. In Luke’s version of the crucifixion, Jesus is caught up in a conversation with the two criminals who are being crucified with him, one on either side. There is no question of the guilt of these men: they both deserve the punishment they receiving unlike Jesus. One of them joined in mocking Jesus saying: “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” But the other rebuked him, reminding him that while they both deserved their punishment, this man, Jesus had “done nothing wrong.” He then asks Jesus to: “remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
Jesus’ response to the criminal is the most powerful example of the inclusivity of Christ’s offer of hospitality for all. Despite the fact that the man apparently had earned his execution as a criminal, Christ turns to him and offers him salvation saying: “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” The invitation to enter the Kingdom of God is available to all who turn to Jesus, admitting that they cannot make it in their own strength, but only by his grace.
Today’s parable is not just about how we ought to respond to God, but also about the way we should treat one another. We are called to love God, and to love our neighbour as ourselves.
Not only do we need to love God and respond to him in the way the tax collector does, but we also need to treat those around us with love and respect. These two concepts are so tightly intertwined that they cannot be torn apart.
For Jesus, bolstering one’s sense of identity by disparaging others (even when they are terrible sinners) easily leads to illusions of grandeur and a failure to see ourselves as we really are. It is a kind of “goodies verses baddies” game. The answer is not to pretend the tax collector has done no wrong, but to accept our common humanity and to know that our real value is in loving and accepting ourselves as God loves us and not increasing our own value by putting others down.
The tax collector is also a person of worth. We can forget trying to earn credit points with God and establishing our worth on a relative scale. When we do so, we will have so much more time and energy for compassion, both receiving and giving it. ‘Pharisees’ need grace and forgiveness – just as much as tax collectors.
Let’s return again to the example of Chocolat. In a desperate attempt to ensure that the rules are kept, the Compte de Reynauld prompts the people to treat each other terribly. He has separated out his religious observance from the love of his fellow villagers.
The contrast between the Compte’s behaviour and the way in which Vianne invites people into her shop, and seeks to meet their deepest personal needs could not be stronger. In the end, the love which Vianne offers the villagers through chocolate even causes a change of heart for the Compte.
Towards the end of the film, the village priest finally makes sense of the relationship between the need to love God and love others. Preaching on Easter Sunday he says: “Listen, here's what I think. I think that we can't go around... measuring our goodness by what we don't do. By what we deny ourselves, what we resist, and who we exclude. I think... we've got to measure goodness by what we ‘embrace’, what we create... and who we include.”
Surely this is what Jesus is saying to the Pharisee. Rather than being self-righteous and caught up in comparing ourselves to others, we need to hold the love of God and the love of others in tight relation to one another.
So where does this leave us? This is not to say that prayer, giving to the church, spending time caring for others, or any of the good things that we do are pointless and worthless. What the parable is getting to is our intentionality as we do these things. If we pray or give or whatever, merely to earn brownie points, to be the best, most self-righteous religious person about, then these actions are meaningless. As Paul says in that section of 1 Corinthians that we most often hear at weddings: to paraphrase – if I have not love, then I am nothing but a clanging gong, or a noisy cymbal.
It’s all about Intentionality.
If our prayer, our love of God and love of one another comes out of a genuine longing for a relationship with God, and if our love for one another reflects the Kingdom of God to those we meet – then like the tax collector in the parable, our prayers are truly worthy of the living God.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
The Journey of Discipleship: "Follow me."
This is the sermon I preached this weekend at a local retirement village. You'll see that it fits the context.
Blessings!
SB
I’ve always enjoyed travelling. Before I began training for ministry I was a teacher, and this has given me some wonderful opportunities to travel.
• Taught Chinese – students to China (things go wrong – broken bones, lost passports, stolen passports etc)
• I’ve also taught in England and travelled around there – as well as using holidays to drive around Europe – (more adventures - stolen purse, losing my mother etc)
What I like most about travelling is that it provides a wonderful opportunity to learn about ourselves – how we deal with difficulties and challenges. We learn about who we really are. We meet amazing people. I’ve made friends whilst travelling that I stay in touch with many years later. Travelling provides opportunities for growth and our development as people.
In today’s reading Jesus too is going on a journey. This reading is the turning point in the gospel: Jesus is now heading towards Jerusalem. We who have read the whole story know exactly what that journey will mean: it’s the journey towards death on the cross, resurrection and return to the father. In the face of what he knows is the inevitable end of his journey, Jesus is determined – he “sets his face” to go to Jerusalem.
This is the journey that Jesus calls his disciples to join him on. The journey to Jerusalem and ultimately the cross.
The first thing that happens, as in any good travel story, is that Jesus sends his disciples on ahead to find a room for the night. The disciple enter a village of Samaritans, but find no welcome there. It’s probably not surprising that a Samaritan town won’t receive him – we know that there is long term animosity between the Samaritans and Jews from other stories in the bible. James and John don’t take this lack of hospitality very well and decide ask Jesus whether they should retaliate – call down fire from heaven to destroy the village. Their response to this slight is way out of proportion –to wreak havoc in the town, destroy lives and families because they wouldn’t offer them a bed.
In response, Jesus rebukes them. The issue is not just the destruction of the Samaritan town, but their whole mindset.
They are not displaying either the love of God or love of neighbour. They are mindlessly escalating a simple rejection into catastrophic reprisal. Instead, Jesus’ response is simply to move on to another village. Jesus, who will later uses the animosity between the Jews and Samaritans as a way of broadening out the idea of who can be a neighbour – who it is that we should show love, care and compassion to, uses this opportunity to teach the disciples another lesson. Rather than escalating a simple rejection and lack of hospitality into a monumental fight – the disciples are instead to move on to another town, to “let it go”, to keep their eyes on the journey ahead. “Don’t lose focus,” Jesus might be saying – “we’re heading for Jerusalem.”
As they continue on, they are met by three people who are considering following Jesus. The first, who voluntarily approaches Jesus is told that following Jesus is to have a life where there is nowhere to lay their head. The journey to Jerusalem and the cross is a difficult and perilous one.
The next two people are actually called by Jesus to: “Come and follow me.” Both are willing, but make excuses – there are things at home that need to be dealt with. The first has an apparently reasonable request: he needs to bury his father before he can follow Christ. The second wants to go and say farewell to those at home. Jesus tells them in no uncertain terms that they are to leave everything behind to follow him.
Did you notice that we are not told how any of these three potential disciples respond to Jesus? Did the first young man return home to bury his father? Did the second go back to get his parents approval? The gospel does not tell us – perhaps because this is not important. Because it isn’t the individual situations of these potential followers of Jesus that matter, it isn’t the point of the story.
If we get caught up in the nature of what the two men want to do before they head off or whether or not they actually end up following Jesus– we miss the point. Because, if we think about our own lives we do the same thing as these young men all the time, don’t we? There’s always something more pressing, more important to do. “Just hang on a sec, I need to ….” is a pretty common response to those we love, and to Jesus.
Because in truth, the things that matter to us always seem to be reasonable and sensible excuses, just as the responses of these men seem reasonable. What Jesus is saying here, is that nothing is more important than following him. There is nothing we should do first before we step out to follow him as disciples. To do so is to be spiritually dead. To follow Jesus is to be spiritually alive. To follow Jesus is to choose life – eternal life, in all its richness and fullness. Jesus isn’t saying: don’t care for your family, don’t meet your responsibilities – what he IS saying is that nothing, nothing, is more important than the life of faith and following him on the journey.
What is the journey that Jesus calls the disciples on like? Is it a cushy simple– it is not one of comfort and rest – but one where there is “nowhere for Jesus, the Son of Man, to lay his head.” To be a disciple is a difficult and costly journey.
So what does this mean for us today? Is this a journey that we can go on? If so, how? Well the first thing to say is that this is not a physical journey of travel, but rather one of spiritual pilgrimage – a call to follow Jesus is a call to enter into relationship with the living God who creates and sustains us.
The nature of a call to discipleship is different for all of us:
• for some it involves overseas missionary work,
• for others ministry in the church,
• for some it’s the intimate ministry of pastoral care: offering a cup of tea and a listening ear for someone in distress. Being prepared to spend time being present to another person in their time of need.
• Or maybe it is the ministry of prayer: praying for the world, for those who suffer, for those whose needs should be brought before God.
• Perhaps a ministry of hospitality: allowing others to experience something of the inclusive love of God.
Whatever the ministry, the journey that we are called to go on is a life long journey, one where our relationship with God grows and changes as we grow and change.
The nature of the activity that takes place may change over the course of our lives, but the invitation does not – nor does our need to continually respond to God’s calling diminish.
The other important thing to say is that we need tools for the journey. Just as a traveller does not set out without sturdy footwear, a good back pack and waterproof clothing, neither can a spiritual pilgrim embark on a journey of deepening relationship with God without the right equipment. The tools of the disciple on the journey are prayer, reading the bible, worship and fellowship with other Christians. These provide sustenance and the nourishment necessary for growth on the way.
So, as I said at the beginning, I love travelling. The thrill of new experiences and sights to see is wonderful. But perhaps the most exciting journey of all is the one that Jesus calls us to go on. A journey to Jerusalem: a journey with difficulty and hardship along the way, but a journey whose ultimate destination is to enter into the rich and abundant life of God.
Blessings!
SB
I’ve always enjoyed travelling. Before I began training for ministry I was a teacher, and this has given me some wonderful opportunities to travel.
• Taught Chinese – students to China (things go wrong – broken bones, lost passports, stolen passports etc)
• I’ve also taught in England and travelled around there – as well as using holidays to drive around Europe – (more adventures - stolen purse, losing my mother etc)
What I like most about travelling is that it provides a wonderful opportunity to learn about ourselves – how we deal with difficulties and challenges. We learn about who we really are. We meet amazing people. I’ve made friends whilst travelling that I stay in touch with many years later. Travelling provides opportunities for growth and our development as people.
In today’s reading Jesus too is going on a journey. This reading is the turning point in the gospel: Jesus is now heading towards Jerusalem. We who have read the whole story know exactly what that journey will mean: it’s the journey towards death on the cross, resurrection and return to the father. In the face of what he knows is the inevitable end of his journey, Jesus is determined – he “sets his face” to go to Jerusalem.
This is the journey that Jesus calls his disciples to join him on. The journey to Jerusalem and ultimately the cross.
The first thing that happens, as in any good travel story, is that Jesus sends his disciples on ahead to find a room for the night. The disciple enter a village of Samaritans, but find no welcome there. It’s probably not surprising that a Samaritan town won’t receive him – we know that there is long term animosity between the Samaritans and Jews from other stories in the bible. James and John don’t take this lack of hospitality very well and decide ask Jesus whether they should retaliate – call down fire from heaven to destroy the village. Their response to this slight is way out of proportion –to wreak havoc in the town, destroy lives and families because they wouldn’t offer them a bed.
In response, Jesus rebukes them. The issue is not just the destruction of the Samaritan town, but their whole mindset.
They are not displaying either the love of God or love of neighbour. They are mindlessly escalating a simple rejection into catastrophic reprisal. Instead, Jesus’ response is simply to move on to another village. Jesus, who will later uses the animosity between the Jews and Samaritans as a way of broadening out the idea of who can be a neighbour – who it is that we should show love, care and compassion to, uses this opportunity to teach the disciples another lesson. Rather than escalating a simple rejection and lack of hospitality into a monumental fight – the disciples are instead to move on to another town, to “let it go”, to keep their eyes on the journey ahead. “Don’t lose focus,” Jesus might be saying – “we’re heading for Jerusalem.”
As they continue on, they are met by three people who are considering following Jesus. The first, who voluntarily approaches Jesus is told that following Jesus is to have a life where there is nowhere to lay their head. The journey to Jerusalem and the cross is a difficult and perilous one.
The next two people are actually called by Jesus to: “Come and follow me.” Both are willing, but make excuses – there are things at home that need to be dealt with. The first has an apparently reasonable request: he needs to bury his father before he can follow Christ. The second wants to go and say farewell to those at home. Jesus tells them in no uncertain terms that they are to leave everything behind to follow him.
Did you notice that we are not told how any of these three potential disciples respond to Jesus? Did the first young man return home to bury his father? Did the second go back to get his parents approval? The gospel does not tell us – perhaps because this is not important. Because it isn’t the individual situations of these potential followers of Jesus that matter, it isn’t the point of the story.
If we get caught up in the nature of what the two men want to do before they head off or whether or not they actually end up following Jesus– we miss the point. Because, if we think about our own lives we do the same thing as these young men all the time, don’t we? There’s always something more pressing, more important to do. “Just hang on a sec, I need to ….” is a pretty common response to those we love, and to Jesus.
Because in truth, the things that matter to us always seem to be reasonable and sensible excuses, just as the responses of these men seem reasonable. What Jesus is saying here, is that nothing is more important than following him. There is nothing we should do first before we step out to follow him as disciples. To do so is to be spiritually dead. To follow Jesus is to be spiritually alive. To follow Jesus is to choose life – eternal life, in all its richness and fullness. Jesus isn’t saying: don’t care for your family, don’t meet your responsibilities – what he IS saying is that nothing, nothing, is more important than the life of faith and following him on the journey.
What is the journey that Jesus calls the disciples on like? Is it a cushy simple– it is not one of comfort and rest – but one where there is “nowhere for Jesus, the Son of Man, to lay his head.” To be a disciple is a difficult and costly journey.
So what does this mean for us today? Is this a journey that we can go on? If so, how? Well the first thing to say is that this is not a physical journey of travel, but rather one of spiritual pilgrimage – a call to follow Jesus is a call to enter into relationship with the living God who creates and sustains us.
The nature of a call to discipleship is different for all of us:
• for some it involves overseas missionary work,
• for others ministry in the church,
• for some it’s the intimate ministry of pastoral care: offering a cup of tea and a listening ear for someone in distress. Being prepared to spend time being present to another person in their time of need.
• Or maybe it is the ministry of prayer: praying for the world, for those who suffer, for those whose needs should be brought before God.
• Perhaps a ministry of hospitality: allowing others to experience something of the inclusive love of God.
Whatever the ministry, the journey that we are called to go on is a life long journey, one where our relationship with God grows and changes as we grow and change.
The nature of the activity that takes place may change over the course of our lives, but the invitation does not – nor does our need to continually respond to God’s calling diminish.
The other important thing to say is that we need tools for the journey. Just as a traveller does not set out without sturdy footwear, a good back pack and waterproof clothing, neither can a spiritual pilgrim embark on a journey of deepening relationship with God without the right equipment. The tools of the disciple on the journey are prayer, reading the bible, worship and fellowship with other Christians. These provide sustenance and the nourishment necessary for growth on the way.
So, as I said at the beginning, I love travelling. The thrill of new experiences and sights to see is wonderful. But perhaps the most exciting journey of all is the one that Jesus calls us to go on. A journey to Jerusalem: a journey with difficulty and hardship along the way, but a journey whose ultimate destination is to enter into the rich and abundant life of God.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
"Seeing before Believing" a sermon on John 20:19-32
Some events are so big, so extraordinarily momentous that you never ever forget. You can remember exactly where you are even years after:
Can you remember where you where you were when:
JFK got shot?
Man walked on the moon?
9/11?
When Australia won the America’s cup?
The dismissal?
I remember some of those – but I was but a twinkle for others – they’re not part of my own living memory, but thanks to the wonders of modern technology I have seen the TV footage.
If we were connected to the internet here I’d be able to Google them and we could watch them again now, right here on the big screen as if they were happening live. We’ve become so used to being able to ‘see’ what happened at an important event that we rely on our sight for proof: if we didn’t see it, then it just didn’t happen.
The situation was sort of similar for the people in John’s community. At the time when John’s gospel was being written down the last few eye witnesses to Jesus’ death and resurrection were dying out. The community John was writing for was the second generation of disciples who hadn’t seen the event.
How could they believe what they hadn’t seen for themselves?
The writer of John’s gospel writes down what happened, what the eye witnesses saw – not just merely so that the second (and subsequent) generations could see the events that happened – but so that they might believe. John tells us this in what is sometimes described as John’s statement of intention for the writing of the gospel- he is writing: “so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.”
The events of the life of Christ, and most specifically the event of Easter, is the biggest of all world changing events. It’s bigger than the dismissal, bigger than JFK, bigger even than Collingwood winning a grand final. We need a record of these events not merely so we can see them happening – but so that we can believe – and through them have life in Jesus’ name.
And we see this point illustrated in today’s Gospel reading. This story is one of my favorite parts of John’s gospel. It is a story filled with suspense:
• the disciples are hiding in an upper room behind locked doors.
• Earlier that very morning Mary Magdalene had been to the tomb and seen that the stone had been rolled away.
• She had called the male disciples and they had raced to the tomb. The other disciple -‘whom Jesus loved’ had seen the grave clothes rolled up and had believed.
• The men had returned to their homes and Mary had been left crying at the tomb.
• Jesus appeared to Mary Magdalene and in one of the most beautiful and touching moments in any written text he speaks her name: “Mary.”
• She recognizes him as her teacher and rushes back to the disciples in the locked room and in the verse before our story today begins she declares to them: “ I have seen the Lord.”
The first sighting and the announcement of the Risen Jesus is placed in the mouth of a woman in John’s gospel. One can only imagine the conversation that ensued. Peter and the other disciple had seen the empty tomb, but not Jesus himself.
The disciples in the upper room were afraid. Their beloved teacher been crucified at the hands of the Roman authorities at the request of the Jewish officials. The disciples were hiding from the Jews behind locked doors.
The time setting is just as important as the place: it holds a clue to the significance of the story. The writer of John’s gospel doesn’t want us to miss it so he reminds us saying that it is the “evening of the first day of the week.”
This reminds us of the story of creation In the genesis story on the first day God created the heavens and the earth. This very gospel begins not with the story of baby Jesus being born to Mary but with another reminder of creation: in the beginning was the word – and the word was with God, and the word was God.”
So at the end of his gospel, John is reminding us that this story is happening on the ‘first day of the week’ so that we make the connection to the processes of creation. It is a story with earthly and heavenly significance just like the genesis story. The events in the upper room that night, along with the events of the previous few days are like a “new creation.”
Jesus as God made man enters into human time to build a bridge between the disciples and God.
So on the evening of the first day, the risen Jesus enters into the locked room. Into that fear filled room Jesus speaks these words: “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”
And then he breathes on them and says: ‘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.’ In the first statement Jesus gives peace to the gathered community of disciples. It is the peace that he promised them on the night before he was betrayed. It is a peace not of this world – but peace which comes from God.
But this peace is not for them and them alone. It is not a gift which can be kept – but one which needs to be passed on.
So Jesus immediately breathes the Holy Spirit on them and sends them out. Just as the Father has commissioned Jesus, so he commissions them to go out and share the good news with the people. The disciples are able to act to forgive sins not in their own power, but because they have received the Holy Spirit. Just as God breathed life into the clay of the earth and created Adam in the genesis story, so the risen Jesus breathes new life into his disciples so that they may go out and join in the work of the spirit, reuniting people with God.
Unfortunately though one of the disciples was not present in the upper room that night and missed seeing the risen Jesus. Thomas was not there.
Poor old Thomas gets rather bad press doesn’t he? Doubting Thomas. He’s been saddled with the title for 2000 years – it’s so common an expression that people who have no idea of the Christian story use it. A bit unfair I think!
If you or I had missed out on what had happened in that upper room I think we’d probably have reacted the same way.
The morning after 9/11 I remember going to the library at recess and standing silently watching the television. More and more students and staff came in and watched. We all needed to see it. The images were unbelievable weren’t they? Even at our school in Melbourne there were kids who had family members who had worked in those towers, and others knew people that were in New York or Washington and were anxiously awaiting phone calls.
We needed to ‘see’ in order to believe. Just like Thomas.
Thomas provides a bridge – a way into the story for the generations who follow – those who, like Thomas want to say – well unless I see it – unless I touch those wounds I cannot believe.
Notice what happens in the story:
Jesus comes again, a week later, into the locked upper room. He doesn’t berate Thomas and tell him off – he invites him to touch his wounds – “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.”
Now here’s the interesting part – not what does happen, but what does not.
We are not told what Thomas does – but what he says. We don’t know if he does touch and see – but we do know that he reaches out in belief – because his very next statement is “My Lord and My God!” Thomas has reached out in faith and come to belief in Jesus – not as a mere human being but as the divine Son of God.
And this is our point of invitation into the text. We as readers of the gospels, beyond the original disciples - who are human just like him – who want to see and touch in order to believe are invited to see and know Jesus on a deeper level to “reach out – to not doubt and believe.”
Seeing and but far more importantly believing in the Risen Christ had a profound effect on Jesus’ disciples.
And we see that effect in our second reading from Acts, in which Peter stands up to the High Priest in the council. The disciples had been given strict instructions not to preach in Jesus’ name, and yet they did. Peter stands up to them and tells them that he speaks under God’s authority and with the help of the Holy Spirit that had been given to them by God. When the High priests heard Peter we are told that they were so enraged that they wanted to kill them straight away.
Isn’t this an extraordinary turn around! This is the same Peter who, when questioned by a young girl by a fire on the night that Jesus was taken into custody denied knowing him three times! Now in a potentially much more dangerous situation, Peter is able to stand up and claim his faith. Not only had he seen, far more importantly he had believed: the spirit of God was able to work within him to continue to spread the Good News of Christ.
We know too from later historical sources that Thomas had quite an extraordinary career as an evangelist spreading the gospel. Sources from the 3rd century tell us that he made it as far as India, in fact the Thomist Church in India, one of the very earliest Christian churches claims their descent from the teachings of St Thomas. Thomas who had to see to believe, who came to faith in that moment in the upper room was changed forever. God was able to use him to further his mission.
All of this must have been enormous comfort to the early followers of Christ, caught between the death and resurrection of Jesus and the second coming that they were waiting for with eager expectation.
So it is for us too – for we, like Jesus’ earliest disciples are ordinary folks - we bumble and make mistakes – lack faith and ask questions. We mightn’t have video footage of the events in the upper room that night, but we do have the recollections of the events as they have come down to us in John’s gospel.
Caught between the alpha and the omega – the beginning and the end times we, along with John’s community are the receivers of what happened in the upper room that day.
Just like in that early catacombs painting– between the beginning and the end there is Jesus.
Jesus saying to us as to the disciples in the locked room: “My peace I leave for you” there is nothing left for us to fear.
The Holy Spirit breathed onto the first disciples is also breathed into our lives to empower us and send us out into the world.
May we, like Peter and Thomas be empowered by the Holy Spirit to not fear and to go forth into the world to continue the mission of God.
Can you remember where you where you were when:
JFK got shot?
Man walked on the moon?
9/11?
When Australia won the America’s cup?
The dismissal?
I remember some of those – but I was but a twinkle for others – they’re not part of my own living memory, but thanks to the wonders of modern technology I have seen the TV footage.
If we were connected to the internet here I’d be able to Google them and we could watch them again now, right here on the big screen as if they were happening live. We’ve become so used to being able to ‘see’ what happened at an important event that we rely on our sight for proof: if we didn’t see it, then it just didn’t happen.
The situation was sort of similar for the people in John’s community. At the time when John’s gospel was being written down the last few eye witnesses to Jesus’ death and resurrection were dying out. The community John was writing for was the second generation of disciples who hadn’t seen the event.
How could they believe what they hadn’t seen for themselves?
The writer of John’s gospel writes down what happened, what the eye witnesses saw – not just merely so that the second (and subsequent) generations could see the events that happened – but so that they might believe. John tells us this in what is sometimes described as John’s statement of intention for the writing of the gospel- he is writing: “so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.”
The events of the life of Christ, and most specifically the event of Easter, is the biggest of all world changing events. It’s bigger than the dismissal, bigger than JFK, bigger even than Collingwood winning a grand final. We need a record of these events not merely so we can see them happening – but so that we can believe – and through them have life in Jesus’ name.
And we see this point illustrated in today’s Gospel reading. This story is one of my favorite parts of John’s gospel. It is a story filled with suspense:
• the disciples are hiding in an upper room behind locked doors.
• Earlier that very morning Mary Magdalene had been to the tomb and seen that the stone had been rolled away.
• She had called the male disciples and they had raced to the tomb. The other disciple -‘whom Jesus loved’ had seen the grave clothes rolled up and had believed.
• The men had returned to their homes and Mary had been left crying at the tomb.
• Jesus appeared to Mary Magdalene and in one of the most beautiful and touching moments in any written text he speaks her name: “Mary.”
• She recognizes him as her teacher and rushes back to the disciples in the locked room and in the verse before our story today begins she declares to them: “ I have seen the Lord.”
The first sighting and the announcement of the Risen Jesus is placed in the mouth of a woman in John’s gospel. One can only imagine the conversation that ensued. Peter and the other disciple had seen the empty tomb, but not Jesus himself.
The disciples in the upper room were afraid. Their beloved teacher been crucified at the hands of the Roman authorities at the request of the Jewish officials. The disciples were hiding from the Jews behind locked doors.
The time setting is just as important as the place: it holds a clue to the significance of the story. The writer of John’s gospel doesn’t want us to miss it so he reminds us saying that it is the “evening of the first day of the week.”
This reminds us of the story of creation In the genesis story on the first day God created the heavens and the earth. This very gospel begins not with the story of baby Jesus being born to Mary but with another reminder of creation: in the beginning was the word – and the word was with God, and the word was God.”
So at the end of his gospel, John is reminding us that this story is happening on the ‘first day of the week’ so that we make the connection to the processes of creation. It is a story with earthly and heavenly significance just like the genesis story. The events in the upper room that night, along with the events of the previous few days are like a “new creation.”
Jesus as God made man enters into human time to build a bridge between the disciples and God.
So on the evening of the first day, the risen Jesus enters into the locked room. Into that fear filled room Jesus speaks these words: “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”
And then he breathes on them and says: ‘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.’ In the first statement Jesus gives peace to the gathered community of disciples. It is the peace that he promised them on the night before he was betrayed. It is a peace not of this world – but peace which comes from God.
But this peace is not for them and them alone. It is not a gift which can be kept – but one which needs to be passed on.
So Jesus immediately breathes the Holy Spirit on them and sends them out. Just as the Father has commissioned Jesus, so he commissions them to go out and share the good news with the people. The disciples are able to act to forgive sins not in their own power, but because they have received the Holy Spirit. Just as God breathed life into the clay of the earth and created Adam in the genesis story, so the risen Jesus breathes new life into his disciples so that they may go out and join in the work of the spirit, reuniting people with God.
Unfortunately though one of the disciples was not present in the upper room that night and missed seeing the risen Jesus. Thomas was not there.
Poor old Thomas gets rather bad press doesn’t he? Doubting Thomas. He’s been saddled with the title for 2000 years – it’s so common an expression that people who have no idea of the Christian story use it. A bit unfair I think!
If you or I had missed out on what had happened in that upper room I think we’d probably have reacted the same way.
The morning after 9/11 I remember going to the library at recess and standing silently watching the television. More and more students and staff came in and watched. We all needed to see it. The images were unbelievable weren’t they? Even at our school in Melbourne there were kids who had family members who had worked in those towers, and others knew people that were in New York or Washington and were anxiously awaiting phone calls.
We needed to ‘see’ in order to believe. Just like Thomas.
Thomas provides a bridge – a way into the story for the generations who follow – those who, like Thomas want to say – well unless I see it – unless I touch those wounds I cannot believe.
Notice what happens in the story:
Jesus comes again, a week later, into the locked upper room. He doesn’t berate Thomas and tell him off – he invites him to touch his wounds – “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.”
Now here’s the interesting part – not what does happen, but what does not.
We are not told what Thomas does – but what he says. We don’t know if he does touch and see – but we do know that he reaches out in belief – because his very next statement is “My Lord and My God!” Thomas has reached out in faith and come to belief in Jesus – not as a mere human being but as the divine Son of God.
And this is our point of invitation into the text. We as readers of the gospels, beyond the original disciples - who are human just like him – who want to see and touch in order to believe are invited to see and know Jesus on a deeper level to “reach out – to not doubt and believe.”
Seeing and but far more importantly believing in the Risen Christ had a profound effect on Jesus’ disciples.
And we see that effect in our second reading from Acts, in which Peter stands up to the High Priest in the council. The disciples had been given strict instructions not to preach in Jesus’ name, and yet they did. Peter stands up to them and tells them that he speaks under God’s authority and with the help of the Holy Spirit that had been given to them by God. When the High priests heard Peter we are told that they were so enraged that they wanted to kill them straight away.
Isn’t this an extraordinary turn around! This is the same Peter who, when questioned by a young girl by a fire on the night that Jesus was taken into custody denied knowing him three times! Now in a potentially much more dangerous situation, Peter is able to stand up and claim his faith. Not only had he seen, far more importantly he had believed: the spirit of God was able to work within him to continue to spread the Good News of Christ.
We know too from later historical sources that Thomas had quite an extraordinary career as an evangelist spreading the gospel. Sources from the 3rd century tell us that he made it as far as India, in fact the Thomist Church in India, one of the very earliest Christian churches claims their descent from the teachings of St Thomas. Thomas who had to see to believe, who came to faith in that moment in the upper room was changed forever. God was able to use him to further his mission.
All of this must have been enormous comfort to the early followers of Christ, caught between the death and resurrection of Jesus and the second coming that they were waiting for with eager expectation.
So it is for us too – for we, like Jesus’ earliest disciples are ordinary folks - we bumble and make mistakes – lack faith and ask questions. We mightn’t have video footage of the events in the upper room that night, but we do have the recollections of the events as they have come down to us in John’s gospel.
Caught between the alpha and the omega – the beginning and the end times we, along with John’s community are the receivers of what happened in the upper room that day.
Just like in that early catacombs painting– between the beginning and the end there is Jesus.
Jesus saying to us as to the disciples in the locked room: “My peace I leave for you” there is nothing left for us to fear.
The Holy Spirit breathed onto the first disciples is also breathed into our lives to empower us and send us out into the world.
May we, like Peter and Thomas be empowered by the Holy Spirit to not fear and to go forth into the world to continue the mission of God.
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