“So . . . I Send You” (John 20:19-31 & Acts 5:27-41)

So, the Easter story continues.

This morning we have two readings focusing on the events that happened after the resurrection of Jesus.  The first comes from the Gospel of John and focuses on a second encounter of the disciples with Jesus in which Thomas comes to believe.  The other comes from the Books of Acts that happens a little later when the disciples are hauled before the Sanhedrin to explain why they are witnessing in the name of Jesus when they were told not to.  Both are scriptures that I shared earlier this past week in the church newsletter for folks to read and study prior to this morning and this sermon.  When sharing I always tell people to “prayerfully read these passages to hear what God is saying to you.”

 

When studying the scriptures with others I always ask the question, “What grabs your attention?”

  

Probably for most, in the Gospel of John reading, it is the interaction between Thomas and Jesus.  Remember that Thomas missed the first appearance of Jesus and refuses to believe that he is alive.  He wanted proof.  In the second encounter Jesus presents the evidence he asked for.  He tells Thomas: “Put your finger here; see my hands.  Reach out your hand and put it into my side.”  Then he tells him: “Stop doubting and believe.”  And Thomas believed.

 

Everyone loves to tell the story of “doubting Thomas” . . . but, for me that was not what caught my attention.  What caught my attention was at the start of the reading in the first encounter of Jesus with the disciples.  While basking in the great joy of realizing that Jesus was alive, Jesus says to them: “Peace with you!  As the father has sent me, I am sending you.”  At this point they receive the Holy Spirit.  At this point they have the ability to do as Jesus had been doing.  And, at this point they have been given the task to go out into the world and do likewise.

 

Which brings us to our second reading from the Book of Acts.  We are now further down the road in the Easter story.  The disciples have been doing what they were sent to do . . . preaching and teaching in the name of Jesus.  This had been forbidden by the Sanhedrin and this august group wanted to know why the disciples persisted in doing what they had been strictly told not to do.  To which they answer that they were doing what they were told to do.  “We must obey God rather than human beings!”  As witnesses to the story and all that had happened, they were tasked with telling the story.  They were to share the Good News.  “We are witnesses of these things, and so is the Holy Spirit, whom God has given to those who obey Him.”

 

So, what did we learn?

 

The disciples did what Jesus told them to do!  Jesus sent them and they went.  They went about sharing the Good News.  They went about preaching and teaching all that they had learned and experienced with Jesus.  They continued the Easter story.  And we learn from our second reading that it was not without consequences.

 

The evangelizing disciples had consequences for doing what Jesus sent them out to do.  We see in this reading from the Book of Acts that they had gone against what the Sanhedrin demanded.  Brought before the Sanhedrin they were chastised, convicted, and threatened with death.  But one Pharisee named Gamaliel reasons with the other members of the Sanhedrin to let the disciples free to run the course of actions.  He argues that if it is human-based the movement will fail on its own; if it is divine in its nature, then there is nothing that will stop it. 

 

The Pharisee convinces the others to spare the disciples life, but not without a little reinforcement to remind them that they are to desist in their preaching and teaching of Jesus.  They are all flogged and sent on their way.

 

The Easter story lives because of those who respond to Jesus’ call to be “sent out” . . . which he does pretty much from the git go on that first Easter.  That is what grabbed my attention.  That and the fact that actually going out to share the Good News comes with consequences.  Sometimes dire consequences like beatings and even death.  Yep, that is what grabbed my attention in the readings for this morning.

 

What Jesus told his disciples in that encounter behind closed doors . . . he told to us.  When Jesus said that he was “sending out” the disciples to continue what he had started, he said it to us.  As the followers of Jesus, we are “sent out” into the world to share the “good news” of God’s grace and love wherever we are.  And this “sending out” is to become the foundation of our lives . . . of how we live . . . of how we relate . . . of how we are to build the Kingdom of God.  It supersedes everything because it is the will of God.  Remember, Peter and the other told the Sanhedrin: “We must obey God rather than human beings . . . we are witnesses of these things . . .”

    

With our sending out there comes consequence . . . good and bad.  In relating to others as Jesus would do we change the world . . . the hungry get fed, the naked get clothed, the homeless find shelter, people discover hope, respite is delivered, relationships are restored, and the Kingdom is built.  These are the gifts of going forth sharing and living the Easter story . . . of embodying the Good News.  Those are the “good” consequences of being “sent out”.  Then, on the other hand, there are those consequences that are not so good.

 

Being “sent out” embodies more than acts of ministry . . . acts of kindness . . . acts of caring for the needs of other.  It also takes on the ministry of peace, justice, inclusion . . . of building God’s Kingdom on this planet we call home.  It involves taking on the systems that create poverty and hunger.  It involves confronting those who would belittle and reject others.  It involves seeking peace in the face of conflict and war.  It means leveling the playing field so that all can play.  It means going against those who want control . . . who want power . . . who don’t want to share.  It means that some toes are going to get stepped on . . . and they will fight to not lose what they have.

 

In the story we heard from the Book of Acts this morning we see this take place.  Those in power and control—in this case the Sanhedrin, do not want to lose power or control.  They had witnessed what had taken place before Jesus was crucified . . . seen how popular the message of Jesus was . . . experienced the push of Jesus’ message.  It was a threat . . . a threat to their power and control.  Because of this they explicitly warned the followers of Jesus to not teach in his name.  To do so would bring consequences . . . bad consequences.  For the Sanhedrin death seemed the quickest way to stop what was happening, but luckily for the disciples a more level-headed person argued to let it be.  To emphasis the seriousness of their threat the Sanhedrin flog the disciples.  They are gambling that the Jesus movement is nothing more than a flash in the pan . . . they would fail.  Surely, they knew the will of God better than these upstarts.

 

Turns out that Gamaliel was more of a prophet than he realized when he stated that these people were motivated by human desire it would fail, “but if it were from God, you will not be able to stop these men; you will only find yourselves fighting against God.” 

 

So, it has come to be.  The Easter story is God’s will . . . God’s will that it be shared.  God’s will that it be lived.  We sit here this morning because those before us heeded Jesus’ call to be “sent forth”.  Those before us chose to follow God and not human or worldly desires, and because they did, we have the gift of worshipping and serving today. 

 

Jesus told his disciples that first Easter, “As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.”  We are a people sent out to share the Easter story of God’s love and grace . . . sent out to live the story of Easter—new beginnings, new ways of living and serving.  Not all will agree with our “sending out”, but God will take care of us and be with us.  It is God’s will, and it will not fail. 

 

After the disciples had been flogged, they left the Sanhedrin rejoicing.  They rejoiced because God had chosen them to be the bearers of the Good News.  We, too, are the chosen sent out to walk this path to walk in the footsteps of Jesus.  It is God’s will.  It is up to us to continue the story of Easter.  Let us rejoice!  The ball is in our hands.  Amen.

 

“Contrary” (Luke 24:1-12)

Contrary to what one would think . . . that first Easter was not the big whoop and holler celebration we experience today.  No, that first Easter was a quieter and more subtle affair.  It was not what one would expect.

 

In the Gospel of Luke, we are told that that morning started early with a group of women heading to the tomb to properly prepare the body of the crucified Jesus.  I imagine that it was a somber and quiet affair.  Imagine the shock the women felt when they saw the stone rolled from the entrance of the tomb . . . the shock of not finding the body of Jesus.  Imagine the fear they felt when they are suddenly confronted by two men in “clothes that gleamed like lightning” there in the tomb.  Imagine the stupor they must have felt as they are told . . . quite matter of factly . . . that Jesus wasn’t there.  Didn’t they remember what Jesus had told them . . . that he would be crucified and would be raised again on the third day?

 

And then they remembered.

 

That was it.  No heavenly choirs.  No flashing lights.  No booming voice.  No doves flying down from the heavens.  That was it . . . an empty tomb and a missing body.  Jesus lives!

 

When the women returned from the tomb, they told these things to the disciples and others.  But none of them believed the women.  Told the women that it sounded like nonsense.  None of it made sense.  Peter, having heard what the women told, ran to the tomb . . . looked in and saw the pile of linen cloths and no body.  Jesus was gone, but it did not make sense.  The writer of Luke’s gospel tells us that “he went away, wondering to himself what had happened.”

 

A week ago, we were hearing about the arrival of Jesus in Jerusalem . . . hearing about the big parade.  There was the waving of palms.  Lots of cheering and shouting . . . people proclaiming, “hosannas in the highest”.  It was a grand entrance announcing the arrival of the king.  It was a party with all sorts of whooping and hollering.  And now . . . this.  It did not make sense . . . it was contrary to what one would think or expect when it comes to a resurrection of the Son of God.  It is no wonder that Peter and the other disciples had difficulty believing what the women shared.

 

It seems that in most of the stories we hear about Jesus there is always some sort of fanfare that accompanies them.  The birth of Jesus is quite a spectacle . . . a big old star, heavenly choirs, a bunch of wise men.  The baptism of Jesus also was quite a show . . . once again, heavenly choirs, descending doves, and a booming voice.  In comparison an empty tomb and a pile of linen cloths seems pretty mild . . . maybe even lame.  But that is how the writer of Luke’s gospel kicks off Easter . . . an empty tomb on a quiet, unassuming early morning.

 

You would think that a resurrection would warrant something a little more substantial.  Shoot we raise more of a ruckus than what we read this morning.  Easter is worth whooping and hollering about.  It is the crowning affirmation of God’s love and grace for all of God’s children.  God loves us.  God wants us.  It is something we should shout about.  Yet, contrary to all of that, Easter arrives in a quieter and more subtle way.  It comes less dramatically than one would expect, but it could come in no other way and still carry the impact it needed to share.

 

It is a new beginning.  There is hope.

 

In an article in the Billings Gazette it spoke about Easter being “a promise of hope” for several congregations that had been devastated in disasters in the past year.  It shared about First United Methodist Church in Mayfield, Kentucky that had been destroyed by a horrific tornado that ripped through that part of the state.  It totally demolished the church building to a pile of rubble.  But the congregation will be gathered today to celebrate Easter.  There is hope.  As the pastor stated: “We are all about finding those bright spots.”  Out of the rubble they have discovered hope and new beginnings . . . they have turned outward to help those in their community to rebuild what they have lost.  This is contrary to what they had expected.

 

Middle Collegiate Church in New York City was gutted by a fire during the pandemic.  Yet, as they rebuild, they discovered hope in the least expected of places.  The congregation shares in the hospitality of their Jewish neighbors as the East End Temple opened its doors to welcome them in.  Rabbi Joshua Stanton states: “It was very clear when the tragedy fell on Middle Collegiate Church that we needed to live out our values, open our doors.”  The congregation will gather today and celebrate Easter as the rabbi offers prayer during their Easter service.  There is great hope for the congregation.  As one member put it: “It feels like a miracle, going through the fire and the pandemic worldwide, all that we’ve gone through . . . to now have a place to call home.”  Another stated: “For Middle, this is a time of resurrection” as they continue the community ministries they have always had to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and care for the homeless—the least of these.

 

In Colorado at the Ascent Community Church 26 families—including the lead pastor--lost their homes in the harrowing fire that swept across that area in late December. In the charred remains of his home, lead pastor Bill Stephens sees the ashes of his family’s life burnt to nothing.  Yet at the same time he sees green shoots and yellow blossoms.  Stephens sees hope . . . he sees a new beginning despite the grief of losing everything.  He states: “That Jesus conquered the grave, conquered the sin . . . and breathed life on Easter Sunday, there’s something really powerful about thinking about ours as just a minor version of that.” 

 

And, lastly, in Louisiana, the priest at Saint Charles Borromeo Catholic Church will celebrate Mass today in the rubble of the church under a temporary tent after Hurricane Ida leveled the area about 80 miles southwest of New Orleans.  The priest proclaims: “We have lots of hope.  Easter strengthens us.”  A parishioner agrees.  There is hope and new beginnings.  The parishioner, Teddy Neal, says, “I see Easter as a new beginning.  I’m pretty much humbled, where it doesn’t matter what the conditions are—as long as I’m present with Jesus during the Eucharist.”  There is hope.  There are new beginnings.  Jesus lives!

 

God is mystery and contrary to what we think and expect, more often than not God comes to us in ways that we least expect.  So why should Easter be any different?

 

We witness in the story this morning—despite it all, God comes to us . . . and in God’s coming we find hope in the least expected places in our lives.  That is what the women at the tomb would tell us.  Out of the darkness comes light.  Out of the rubble comes flowers. Out of death comes life.  Out of it all comes hope.  Easter is a moment of contrary.  We find hope and new beginnings.  God loves us . . . Jesus lives!  Amen.