Behind Closed Doors (a sermon for Easter Sunday, April 12, 2020)

Today marks the fifth Sunday (but tenth worship service) that we have had to meet virtually instead of in person. And, speaking for myself, today’s is—without question—the hardest.

Much of Easter Sunday is, for me, about the community; the people; the pageantry; the music—so much is the music!—that, as much as I appreciate being able to get together virtually like this, makes this day hard. Especially hard. …

But, as hard as this is for us all—that we’re closed and isolated by ourselves at home—guess what?

According to the account of Easter Sunday in the Gospel of John—the one we read today—the first disciples were exactly—exactly!—in the same position that we are today!

As is always the case with John’s gospel, there is so much that could be said about the unique and—in some cases—perplexing details that John gives us about Easter! A footrace to the tomb between Simon Peter and the disciple whom Jesus loved? Why is that there? Why the meticulous detailing of who arrives first and who enters the empty tomb first? Why do we need to know that?

Why does Mary not recognize the risen Lord Jesus when she sees him? Why didn’t she recognize the two angels who spoke to her moments before? But then, of course, there is the magnificent account of hearing Jesus—the risen Lord Jesus!—speak her name. And she believes!

As I say, as is always the case with John, there are countless details that we could explore and linger on in his account.

And, most years, we would! And, most years, I would love doing just that!

But not this year! There is a detail that John gives us—and only John—that speaks to this Easter in a way like no Easter before, at least in any of our lives!

Several times over these last five Sundays—and, during the Lenten midweek and Holy Week services—I’ve been flabbergasted how certain parts of scripture speak as never before to what we’re all going through. And today, that’s more true than ever!

The Gospel of Luke also says that Jesus’ disciples were “gathered together” on Easter Sunday. But it is only the Gospel of John—the account we read this morning—that gives us this essential detail.

“When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’”

The disciples weren’t just “gathered together” on Easter Sunday. They were closed inside, isolated from everyone and everything else out of fear! They were exactly like us today. Or, more to the point, we are exactly like they were that first Easter Sunday.

And yet, hear the Word of the Lord! “Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you’”!

This is such good news! When we cannot “go” to Easter, Easter comes to us! When we cannot “go” to Jesus—when, out of justifiable fear, we are barricaded and isolated from the outside world—Jesus comes to us!

And what is Jesus’ word—The Word of the Lord—to us? “Peace be with you.”

As a child of the 1960’s, I’m accustomed to people greeting one another with “Peace!” (It was sort of a common greeting for hippies that, then, kind of then meandered its way into the general population.)

At best, to say “Peace” to one another in those turbulent times of the 1960’s—and, believe me, they were turbulent!—was, at best, a hope. As in, “I hope you can find peace! I hope you can feel at peace!”

It was a hope—an aspiration—but never a promise. And it was never received as anything more than that! “Peace, man!”

Yeah, right!

Neither on that Easter Sunday—nor on this—is Jesus simply bringing a casual greeting or giving voice to an aspirational hope to his frightened and homebound disciples.

No! He’s telling them the truth. He’s declaring to them the gospel. He’s telling them—in the simplest of terms—what his resurrection means now to them. “Peace,” he declares, “be with you.”

During one of our Lenten midweek services—one in which we were actually still allowed to be together—I talked about how, according to brain research, our brains are hardwired to hold onto negativity while letting positivity slip away from us.

We said our brains hold on to fear and bad stuff like Velcro, while letting good stuff be like Teflon in our brains. Unless we work at holding on to it, good stuff just slides away from us.

Especially this Easter, we need to hold on to Jesus’ Peace with Velcro, not Teflon! We need to breath that Peace into our lungs and hold it there for at least fifteen seconds so that we can hold on to it. …

Let me make clear, I’m being metaphorical! We don’t need to literally hold our breath for fifteen seconds! I mean that we need to absorb Jesus’ peace into our souls, holding the conscious thought of it for at least 15 seconds at a time, perhaps several times a day!

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear …, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.”

Jesus came into their locked rooms and said, “Peace be with you.” Peace be with you. Peace is with you. Peace. Peace!

Because of Jesus resurrection and that Easter Sunday, when we’re alone or barricaded behind closed doors this Easter, we are not alone! Being homebound and maintaining safe social distance is no barrier to Jesus!

This may not be like any other Easter that you or I have ever celebrated, but the risen Lord Jesus ensures that it is Easter wherever and however we may be!

Peace be with you. For Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!

Alleluia and amen!