Easter 2: The Resurrected Jesus Comes in Peace!
The disciples were locked away in fear, and, despite everything, Jesus didn't come to shame them, or condemn them, but to say "Peace be with you." (3 times!)
It’s the Second Sunday of Easter. The 8th of the 50 days of the Easter season. Only, you wouldn’t know it due to the fact that the peeps and chocolate bunnies are all on clearance now that Easter Sunday is behind us.
I don’t say this to complain. I love the fact that the Cadbury Creme Eggs are going for a fraction of what they cost 2 weeks ago. And for those of us who’ve allegedly been fasting for the last 40 days, we’ve still got 42 days left to feast on absolute junk.
But, in all seriousness, it’s been a week since we read about the resurrection of Christ. Only, like with the show Succession, or much of your favorite TV before the rise of Netflix, while it’s a week later for you and me, it’s the same day for characters in the story.
So, in today’s Gospel, we’re picking up right where we left off last week: with Mary Magdalene telling the disciples, “I have seen the Lord.” Now, whether or not they believed her, they do not appear to receive this announcement as good news. We read that the disciples were locked away — they’re huddled behind closed doors — for fear of the religious authorities. They were afraid that the same folks who came after Jesus were coming after them next.
Why? Well, a quick recap:
For the Romans, Jesus was an insurrectionist. Remember Pontius Pilate’s placard? He’s the alleged “King of the Jews.”
For the religious authorities, Jesus was a blasphemer. He’s put himself on equal footing with God. Remember the actions of the high priest? He tore his garments in outrage because of Jesus’ claims.
So, understandably, the disciples are worried that as followers of this “insurrectionist;” as disciples of this “blasphemer,” they’re next on the chopping block.
But this isn’t the only reason they’re in hiding. Think about all that’s happened during Holy Week. The disciples couldn’t stay awake with him for an hour. When he was arrested, they deserted him. And after swearing he’d follow him to the very end, Peter, his best friend — the mouthpiece of the disciples – denied him 3 times.
Maybe they’d written off Mary’s testimony, but in the back of their minds they had to have been thinking, what if it were true? Nevermind the resurrection — the defeat of death — that you and I know situated on the other side of these events. They had to have at least questioned, what if he had somehow survived the ordeal? The last thing they had done for their Lord and friend before he was allegedly murdered was abandon him in his hour of greatest need. Imagine the shame that they’d feel if he were to suddenly confront them – if he were to unexpectedly show up and look them in the face. What would they do? What would you do?
I know that if it were me, I’d want to melt into the floor. Just like in Middle School when, for no reason at all (other than to be cool) I talked badly about a best friend, he found out, and he gazed at me with what felt like the most wounded look possible. In that moment, I knew I deserved everything that was coming to me and more. (It’s been close to 30 years since and I still have trouble shaking that feeling of shame.)
I tell this story not to give you too much information about my personal issues, but to tell you if I were one of the disciples, I’d prefer that Jesus come with vengeance – with a sword to strike me down – rather than experience that inevitable look of betrayed disappointment. I don’t know about you, but I’m not sure I could have handled it.
The possibility of this encounter makes me think of the scene in “The Godfather Part II” when Michael Corleone confronts his brother who’s betrayed him and says, “I know it was you, Fredo. I know it was you. You broke my heart. You broke my heart.” Only in Fredo’s case — unlike what I would have hoped for myself if I was one of Jesus’ disciples — it’s the worst-case scenario. He was only stuck down after being left to sit in his shame for what must have felt like an eternity.
And so I come back to the question I asked earlier, what would you have done if you were one of the disciples in this story? Have you ever been “caught in the act” or exposed as a fraud? Maybe you’ve gossiped about a friend, or have been caught in a lie, or weren’t there for someone when they needed you most. While scary, the prospect of being flogged by the authorities might be preferred to facing the one we’ve betrayed.
But there’s no hiding from the one “to whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hidden.” Without warning, Jesus appears on the scene. (Not even the bolted doors of death can keep him out.) The friend who they’d let down is right in front of them, but instead of coming to shame them or condemn them, he says, “Peace be with you.”
“Peace be with you.” He doesn’t give them the look Al Pacino’s Michael Corleone gave his brother Fredo. Instead, he says “Peace be with you” three times, because there’s no other way they’d believe it. It’s too good to be true, and yet he truly comes in peace.
This is why we say “The peace of the Lord be always with you” at the mid-way point of every service. Because you and I, oftentimes well-meaning people (just like the disciples), have betrayed him time and time again through our lies, gossip, and abandonment. And yet, don’t sit in that shame. For the one who still bears the scars of Good Friday comes to us in peace.
Friends, Jesus has caught a glimpse of the areas of our lives that we’re trying to hide the most, and he doesn’t shame — and he doesn’t condemn — he comes to forgive – he comes to heal – he comes in peace.
May this same Lord, who is alive and active, birth in us repentance, forgiveness, and that peace “which passes all understanding.”
...forgiveness,and that peace "which passes all understanding "...I will never forget the freedom...I could now breathe....at the moment of surrender to His Lordship