The Big Day is over. Put away the Easter bonnets and the lilies – we’re back to regular life.
(And if you’re clergy, you’re in the Easter Monday brain fog of exhaustion…).
Christ is risen? Me, not so much.
Only, it’s not over. In church-time Easter goes on for seven weeks – seven weeks to try to comprehend what those Alleluias are all about. And in Gospel-time, it’s still Easter Day, still that First Day of the week, the First Day of the new creation, the First Day of forever. And Jesus’ disciples are not celebrating; they’re terrified.
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 Jewish leaders. Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.
They may have begun to wrap their minds around the fact that Jesus appeared to be very much alive, inexplicably, miraculously. But they certainly haven’t figured out how. And his risen-ness presents a more immediate problem: now they are in even greater danger. They were already anxious – witness Peter’s haste to disavow his friendship with Jesus after his arrest. But now they are truly scared. The authorities who put Jesus to death would not welcome these new developments. They might well want to stamp out any hint of this Jesus movement and eliminate all witnesses.
Into this turmoil, Jesus appears. Not through the locked door. Not through a window. He is just suddenly there, standing among them, speaking peace to them, showing his wounds.
And so it can be for us, as we can become aware of him. When we’re in the midst of turmoil or terror, malady or malaise, sometimes we forget that Jesus can get into the room. We think we have to invite him, or worse, that we have to get our act together before he’ll drop by. But he just shows up, speaks peace upon us and upon our circumstances, and shows us his wounds, like a calling card, a calling card that says, “I know a little bit about suffering. I know what it’s like to be alone and forsaken. I have not forgotten you, and I will never leave you or forsake you. You can find healing for your wounds in mine.”
In what situation in your life might you need to recall Jesus’ presence? Pray to become aware of where he is in that; go from, “Come, Lord Jesus,” to “Where are you in here, Lord?” Talk to him, tell him what you’re going through, listen for his responses. Receive his peace, for it is hard won and it sticks.
Today is Earth Day. As we grapple with the ever-more frightening and seemingly hastening reality of climate change, we might practice this prayer: “Where are you in this room called Earth, Jesus? Give us your peace and your power to heal the damage we have done to this beautiful planet you have given to sustain us.”
The disciples found their terror turned to rejoicing as they realized he was truly alive among them. Five minutes earlier they would have been unable to fathom rejoicing. And yet, there they were. And there he was. And joy is. Alleluia! Christ is Risen!
Only, it’s not over. In church-time Easter goes on for seven weeks – seven weeks to try to comprehend what those Alleluias are all about. And in Gospel-time, it’s still Easter Day, still that First Day of the week, the First Day of the new creation, the First Day of forever. And Jesus’ disciples are not celebrating; they’re terrified.
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 Jewish leaders. Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.
They may have begun to wrap their minds around the fact that Jesus appeared to be very much alive, inexplicably, miraculously. But they certainly haven’t figured out how. And his risen-ness presents a more immediate problem: now they are in even greater danger. They were already anxious – witness Peter’s haste to disavow his friendship with Jesus after his arrest. But now they are truly scared. The authorities who put Jesus to death would not welcome these new developments. They might well want to stamp out any hint of this Jesus movement and eliminate all witnesses.
Into this turmoil, Jesus appears. Not through the locked door. Not through a window. He is just suddenly there, standing among them, speaking peace to them, showing his wounds.
And so it can be for us, as we can become aware of him. When we’re in the midst of turmoil or terror, malady or malaise, sometimes we forget that Jesus can get into the room. We think we have to invite him, or worse, that we have to get our act together before he’ll drop by. But he just shows up, speaks peace upon us and upon our circumstances, and shows us his wounds, like a calling card, a calling card that says, “I know a little bit about suffering. I know what it’s like to be alone and forsaken. I have not forgotten you, and I will never leave you or forsake you. You can find healing for your wounds in mine.”
In what situation in your life might you need to recall Jesus’ presence? Pray to become aware of where he is in that; go from, “Come, Lord Jesus,” to “Where are you in here, Lord?” Talk to him, tell him what you’re going through, listen for his responses. Receive his peace, for it is hard won and it sticks.
Today is Earth Day. As we grapple with the ever-more frightening and seemingly hastening reality of climate change, we might practice this prayer: “Where are you in this room called Earth, Jesus? Give us your peace and your power to heal the damage we have done to this beautiful planet you have given to sustain us.”
The disciples found their terror turned to rejoicing as they realized he was truly alive among them. Five minutes earlier they would have been unable to fathom rejoicing. And yet, there they were. And there he was. And joy is. Alleluia! Christ is Risen!
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