Resurrection and Justification Eastertide 2018
"A New Creation"
Rev. Paul Mitchell
Vashon United Methodist Church
May 6, 2018
Acts 4:32-35; John 20:19-31
In quick
succession, John paints two pictures a week apart. In the first, a few of Jesus’
followers, possibly mostly the men, because the women for some reason have
already figured it out and are waiting for the men to catch up – typical – are
gathered behind closed doors – their hopes for the messiah in a chaotic mess. Fear
and anxiety are palpable. Conversations are whispered. Lights are low. Their limbic
systems are on high alert. Vision is narrowed. Hope is lost. Into this dungeon
of chaos and despair Jesus breathes the Spirit of peace, discernment, and empowerment.
It was the first Easter evening, and it turns out the women were right as usual
– death could not contain the Lord of life.
Acts 4:32-35; John 20:19-31
As I reviewed my notes before
starting to prepare for this sermon, on first glance my summary of the text
appeared to start, “On the evening of the first Easter, Jesus entered a locker
room.” Still, there may be something similar between a team huddled in the
locker room and the team huddled in the locked room on that first Easter
evening. The game appeared to be over. The enemy had triumphed. Despair had
demobilized the team.
~
In quick
succession, John paints two pictures a week apart. In the first, a few of Jesus’
followers, possibly mostly the men, because the women for some reason have
already figured it out and are waiting for the men to catch up – typical – are
gathered behind closed doors – their hopes for the messiah in a chaotic mess. Fear
and anxiety are palpable. Conversations are whispered. Lights are low. Their limbic
systems are on high alert. Vision is narrowed. Hope is lost. Into this dungeon
of chaos and despair Jesus breathes the Spirit of peace, discernment, and empowerment.
It was the first Easter evening, and it turns out the women were right as usual
– death could not contain the Lord of life.
And yet,
still, a week later, the disciples were still there, in the same house, behind
the same closed doors, still unable to move ahead in their mission. Nothing
worth mentioning had happened in a week. Jesus’ overwhelming gift of the Spirit
was not enough to create durable peace, purpose, or persistence. Thomas has
historically borne the brunt of criticism for his doubt – but after all, he had
missed the team huddle the week before, and nothing the other disciples had
done in the meantime had convinced him to believe – that is to live as though –
new life had begun.
At the
time that the Gospel of John was written, Gnosticism and Docetism were concepts
being considered by some in the
Christian community. Gnosticism claims, among other things, that some persons
are endowed with special spiritual knowledge – either preordained or by divine
intervention. Docetism claimed that Jesus only appeared to be human, and that, being
purely divine, he could not have died. Today we assume that Thomas’ distrust – a
better translation than doubt – was regarding the resurrection. Equally probable
was that some did not believe that the crucifixion could have occurred, and
Thomas’ insistence that he see and touch the risen Jesus was more John’s way of
affirming Jesus’ humanity than questioning Thomas’ faith. That the marks of his
suffering would persist beyond his death has profound implications for us, implications
that would be moot if Jesus was not profoundly human.
In some ways, there was nothing new about God becoming
human. The gods of Olympus did so regularly, perhaps giving their worshippers
the hope that they too could achieve divine status through an individual
relationship or an achievement that merited such a reward. These gods were
often depicted as capricious and oppressive – though also fallible and
compromised. But there is little to suggest that the people of the first
century actually believed that Zeus and family existed in any concrete or even
spiritual way. The more salient concerns were the capricious and powerful
humans who claimed to be gods to be worshipped by their subjects. These gods,
the Caesars and Herods, and their minions, were all too real, seeming to hold
sway over all creation through violence, oppression, and manipulation. Somehow
these gods had conspired to bring down the bearer of a different way. To put it
in the words of teens today, “That’s messed up!”
~
There are infinite examples of what’s messed up right here
and now. One indicator of our messed-up-ness is that there are two months in
the year designated to raise awareness of sexual violence in our culture.
October is “Domestic Violence Awareness Month” and April is “Sexual Assault
Awareness Month.” In the context of our own huddled secrecy, our breathless
silence in spite of receiving the breath of the Holy Spirit, and our reluctance
to carry out Christ’s message of peace and discernment, it is clear that sexual
violence is a spiritual crisis. In our Easter celebration of the exoneration of
Jesus – of God’s embrace of the human body – calling it very good – we must
remember that in the United States, one in four women have suffered domestic abuse.
Worldwide it’s more like one in three. In the United States, domestic violence has
been reported in 28% of households – just a fraction of the estimated
unreported total. In the United States, domestic violence is the leading cause
of death in women – more than the next three causes combined.
And it’s not just women who suffer, but also men,
children, the elderly, and persons with different abilities can be victims of
domestic abuse. Abuse cuts across all racial, ethnic, and socio-economic
categories. Abuse is not only physical, but can be financial, psychological, emotional,
and spiritual. The perpetrators can be men or women, children or parents, whoever
has the advantage, seeming to hold sway through violence, oppression, and
manipulation…. That’s messed up.
Part of what allows this mess to persist is that we do not
see sexual coercion or violence as a significant stain on the new creation that
we are called to live into as Easter people filled with the breath of the Spirit.
We are disciples, huddling behind locked doors, nursing the fears induced by a
mind-set of tribalism, vulnerability, and privilege…. That’s messed up.
Perhaps the mess of sexual assault seems too remote or too
overwhelming, but in light of the few statistics I have mentioned, we cannot
deny that it is near at hand, in our midst, and more prevalent than we want to
admit. Victims of domestic abuse and sexual violence carry an enormous load of
fear and shame – and will work to hide it. Perpetrators are clever and controlling,
often charming and even helpful in their public lives. Chances are you know a
victim or an abuser. I’m not an expert on domestic abuse or intervention. But I
do know that sexual abuse has a profoundly spiritual dimension. I encourage
you, if you are or know a victim or abuser, find someone to listen. Find
someone who will say “How are you hurting? Tell me about your pain.”
Every act of violence, every abuse of power, starts with personal
decisions – decisions to withhold peace, decisions to withhold forgiveness, decisions
to withhold power. Like it or not, it’s in our nature to slide back into our
former ways, to worship the old gods in whatever forms they now take, to overlook
the good news of Easter – that we are not alone or abandoned even when all
seems lost. What have we done to change the world in the weeks since Easter?
~
But there is grace. Jesus does not condemn the disciples who
for the second week in a row are sequestered behind the safety of closed doors.
Instead he returns again and again with peace, discernment, and empowerment. The
story of the disciples in the locked room is actually a creation story. The
fact is that the bible is filled with creation stories – not one, not two, but
dozens of them. In fact, you could say that the Gospel of John begins and ends
with creation narrative. Here is how. Remember the great opening prologue of
John:
In the beginning was the
Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
It was in the beginning
with God.
All things came into
being through it, and without it not one thing came into being.
What has come into being
in it was life, and the life was the light of all people.
The light shines in the
darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.
The true light, which
enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.
It was in the world, and
the world came into being through it….
From its fullness we have
all received grace upon grace.
Many scholars believe that the twentieth chapter of John was
originally the final chapter. Chapter twenty ends definitively:
Now Jesus did many other
signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But
these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Anointed, the
One who shares in God, and that through believing you may have life in his
name.
Think back to the story that we commonly refer to as the
creation story:
In the beginning when God
created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness
covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the
waters.
Chaotic and directionless, dark and roiling – perhaps even
without sound until the breath of the Spirit moves. Or remember the second
creation story – part two, but probably the older of the two:
At the time when YHWH
made the heavens and the earth, … YHWH fashioned an earth creature out of the
clay of the earth, and blew into its nostrils the breath of life. And the earth
creature became a living being.
In the locked room, Jesus does
what God did to unlock the power of creation; he brings order to chaos and
bestows the breath of life. So John begins and ends with creation. The
incarnational perspective on creation in John is a way of saying that creation is
not just an act of God, but an incarnation of God’s very being. The breath of
God is an awakening of the image of God that is inherent in everything that has
the breath of life. And in John, this awakening spirit conveys three messages to
the disciples: peace, discernment, and empowerment. “The peace Jesus announces
is not one that can allow the disciples to remain behind locked doors. They are
no longer merely disciples. Now they are apostles as well, sent into the world,
just as God has sent Jesus himself.”[i]
~
We, who are followers becoming disciples
becoming apostles, who have been invited, are now being called, and – if we
choose to accept the mission – will be sent, have a role to play in the new
creation. The vision of that new creation that Jesus has bestowed upon us, huddled
here in our locked room, is characterized by three dimensions: peace,
discernment, and empowerment. Jesus greets us with peace – but it may as easily
be a command as an assurance. The new creation Jesus expects of us is one of
peace. This peace is not merely an
absence of violence, but a robust wholeness of right relationship with God and
each other. This peace means not merely silence, but a sacred quiet in which we
truly hear one another, in which we listen carefully, being fully present to
one another. This peace means the yielding of privilege and power by those who
possess them.
But this is not a rosy-colored-glasses
kind of peace. The second gift Jesus bestows is that of discernment. In this
new creation, forgiving sin and retaining sin are the two trees in the new
garden. Their shared fruit is that of discernment. There will be evil and there
will be malice just as there will be error and misjudgment. In the new
creation, we will encounter messy things like sexual violence. There are no
easy, universal answers. We cannot afford to rush to judgment. Each victim of sexual
violence has a different set of circumstances, a different cultural context. And
while we bear a responsibility to notice each other’s circumstances and to
create a world in which violence is not an option, any intervention must not
contribute to worse circumstances.
All of us have power – some more
than others. Even victims of domestic abuse and sexual violence have power, but
for one or many reasons have not been able to exercise it. Thus the new creation
we are called and sent to participate in is one in which mountains of power are
laid low and valleys are filled. We can choose to participate in God’s new
creation of peace, discernment, and empowerment every moment of every day, from
the youngest of us to the oldest, in large ways and in small. We often overlook
the impact of the small. This week, make peace with a neighbor; forgive a
parent, spouse, or child; empower a stranger or a friend. The more often you
practice – the easier it will be to see. In another week, we may be able to
step through the closed, locked door ourselves – “As my Abba has sent me, so I
send you,” - and boldly proclaim a new creation of peace, discernment, and
power. May it be so.
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