News Redeemer Resurrection Joy
Oh what resurrection joy this season of Easter holds for us! The lilies that bedecked the altar may be planted in the ground, the candy long since eaten (and regretted!), but the resurrection song continues on and on and on! Christ has risen. He is risen indeed, alleluia! Put it on your I-Phone, program it on your programmable alarm clock, set your car to greet you with resurrection news. Christ is risen. He is risen indeed, alleluia.
It is so hard to hold fast to images of joy and new life, to really believe and live the resurrected life Christ claims for us. Just look at the Gospel text this week. In contrast to resurrection joy, the Gospel story this week presents us with images of fear, the disciples huddled in fear, namely.
You can’t exactly blame them, after all, this Jesus upon whom they had placed all their hopes, every apple they had went in this barrel, every text message was about him, and he was brutally killed in the worst possible way imaginable, on a cross, humiliated: their supposed savior. And now who knew, but it seemed like the crowd had a taste for blood, maybe they’d be next. You might be huddled, too, if these events had just happened in your last few days!
Fear, it is the great immobilizer. It is the antithesis, the very opposite of faith. Fear, it drives men and women away from discussion and towards each other’s throats. Fear, it drives the persecution of Christians in the Middle East and the persecution of Muslims in the western world. Fear is so powerful that it may be behind every bigoted, prejudiced thought that’s ever been had. It may be responsible for when we define ourselves not by what we are, but by who we are not. Fear, it lurks ready to pounce every time things don’t go according to our plans. And let’s face it, this means that fear has some seriously expansive territory in which to play!
And fear, like that old school video game Pacman, fear seeks to eat away at faith, seeks to undermine its potency, seeks to erode the steadfast knowledge that faith provides, the steadfast knowledge that God is God and God in Christ triumphs in joy, especially when it seems like all hope has been lost. This is the faith of those whose Savior died upon the cross, humiliated and seemingly beaten. This is the faith of people whose Savior then rose triumphant in ways not easy to comprehend. The Savior who appears behind our locked doors and says “peace be with you.”
Which of your doors are locked today? Be ready, Christ is already preparing to appear with the message shrouded in such simple form that we could miss its potency. Peace be with you.
The Bishop of the ELCA, in his Easter letter, described visiting Haiti and how, as they walked amidst the rubble, pastor Josephus Liveson Lauranus, president of the Lutheran Church in Haiti, proclaimed “We will not be defined by the rubble, but by restoration, for we are a people of the resurrection.” Amen to pastor Lauranus! How do you define yourself? How do I define myself? When we look in the mirror do we see the resurrected Christ emblazoned upon our forehead with the kind of clear message displayed by a Mary Kay sticker on the back of the pink Cadillac? Do our hearts sing of the resurrected Christ who shows up in our fear and says “peace be with you?” Do we define ourselves by the rubble of our lives or by the Christ who is resurrection, who is restoration?
Imagine the fear of people persecuted for their religious beliefs- the early disciples and people living now, around the world and even, perhaps, in our very own neighborhoods. Imagine your own worst fears, whatever they may be. Fear acts on us often without our even knowing it, undermining our own best chances to be part of God’s creative and redeeming work in our lives and the world. How often do I name my fears, stare them in the face, then commit them to Christ trusting in Christ’s mercy to handle them for me?
“Peace be with you.” Peace to your fears, peace to your hearts, peace to your lives, peace to this world, peace behind every locked door and locked heart.
“Peace be with you.” This is a liturgical act we include every Sunday during the worship service. If you’re an introvert this practice may strike fear in your heart because here at Redeemer Lutheran the enthusiasm for sharing the peace can border on becoming coffee hour or a mild mosh pit. I am waiting for the Sunday when I am passed hand over hand across the congregation, shaking hands with those I pass as they look up my nostrils.
“Peace be with you.” It is a liturgical act based in this Scripture passage, based on the story of Christ, who came to the disciples in the midst of their fear. We don’t say “fear be with you.” Hey, and also with you. NO! We say “peace be with you, and you, and you and you, and every one of us,” and may the walls break down and the flood gates open as this peace is shared with the world, not our peace, not our good morning, but a liturgical act of defiance in the face of fear. A liturgical act that remembers that Christ has conquered death- what is there to fear?
We are at the start, my friends, of the 50 days of Easter. We are at the start of the most joyous season of the Church year, in which the Pacman of fear is gobbled wholesale by the triumphant light of Christ. I pray for us that we might not act as though Easter is over, but find ways to let this Easter joy be carried into our lives, our hearts, our days, and especially our interactions with others. After all, Jesus didn’t come to the disciples, say “peace with you,” and by the way, keep it to yourselves!
Christ said “peace be with you, as the Father sent me now I send you.” Then he breathed on them and gave them the gift of the Holy Spirit, and sent them into the world to share the resurrection joy. We, too, are sent. Christ seeks to mold us to be bearers of the Gospel, proclaim the kingdom. It is local work and it is international work. It is peacekeeping work at its best in that we are given to be keepers of the peace of Christ, peace such as the world cannot give. Peace such as fear and its allies of despair and hopelessness cannot overcome.
Imagine if we greeted people on the street with “The peace of the risen Lord be with you.” Aside from being locked up in a mental institution, think of the positive effect this could have =-) Imagine if the first words we said when we got home from work were not “honey, how was your day?” but “Peace of the risen Christ be with you.” Or when we greet our children and grandchildren, put them to sleep, hand them their cereal, “peace of the Lord be with you.”
Sharing the peace. A liturgical act of defiance that is not confined to the boundaries of Sunday worship, but the true gift that keeps on giving. A gift righteously achieved and freely given on our behalf.
Some refer to this Sunday as “Low Sunday” but this is an oxymoron as there can never be a “low” Sunday with a God who has taken fear to the cross and risen triumphant on our behalf.
Christ is risen! He is Risen indeed, alleluia!
