Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you” [John 20:19b].
Some years ago, a friend called to say that I needed to “come over and see it.” The “it” was his newly completed residence. He’d spent several years in careful planning. He’d seen to every detail and now his project was finished. He was appropriately proud. After his tour of the various living spaces, he winked at me and said, “I’ve got one more thing to show you.”
We went downstairs — his house had a significant grade that provided for a finished basement that was almost as large as the first floor. With his knuckles, he rapped on a door, apparently to announce that it was made of heavy steel, and then he led me inside a windowless space, perhaps 16 ft. square.
“Tom, the walls are two feet thick. The door is unassailable. This is our safe room,” he said with obvious pride. “If we need to, we can hunker down here for as long as two weeks.”
In the Gospel reading appointed for the Second Sunday of Easter (Revised Common Lectionary) — John 20:19-31 — the disciples have retreated to their own safe room. This may have been the same room where Jesus served as host for his last supper. Note that the gospel writer uses the term “disciples” in verse 19. The group that had gathered that first Easter evening was not, therefore, necessarily limited to the Twelve (minus Judas, of course, and as we discover in verse 24, also minus Thomas).
The doors were locked “for fear of the Jews” [v. 19]. This isn’t an anti-Semitic reference; it’s rather a reference to those Jewish leaders who had conspired to arrest and kill Jesus. Those same leaders might now be looking for those who had been close to the crucified One. We know, for example, from Peter’s earlier denial scene, that there were some in Jerusalem who wanted to confront and scorn Jesus’ followers.
For years now, I’ve also wondered if the disciples weren’t afraid of something — or rather someone else. I’ve sometimes tried to put myself in the shoes of the disciples and when I have done so, I have often wondered if the disciples weren’t also afraid of Jesus. They had, after all, been cowards after their Master’s arrest. Peter had famously denied Christ three times, and the rest had deserted him, save for a few women and “the disciple whom Jesus loved” [John 19:26]. Recalling the words of the old spiritual, “Were you there when they crucified our Lord?”, for all but one of the Twelve, the answer was a resounding, “No!” And so, on that first Easter evening, Jesus may well have been the last person in the world whom the disciples wanted to see.
But Jesus, of course, cannot be controlled. He cannot be barred from one’s presence by a locked door. Can we see the irony of the moment. Jesus is the door (see John 10:7). He appears in their midst, in the center of their fright and unbelief. Yet, He does not scold or confront them about their failures. Instead, he greets them with love, “Peace be with you.” And as we recall his earlier words, we recognize that the Peace of Christ is indeed a special Peace — the kind the world cannot give (John 14:27). Can we come to see that for the disciples (and for us), a room only becomes “safe” when Jesus is present within it and us?
Notice also that as soon as Jesus has granted the disciples the special brand of Peace that only He can provide (notice my use of the historical present tense), He tells them that just as He has been sent by the Father, so now He sends them out to others. We see that the Peace of Christ isn’t just for those few who knew him well. That Peace is for the world and it’s the disciples’ responsibility to see that the world receives such Peace. Jesus then breathes on them, providing them with the gift, and power, of the Holy Spirit. Those who want only to look to Acts 2 as the birth of the church might well take note of this first Easter evening experience (many scholars refer to these verses as the “Johannine Pentecost.”
This Gospel lesson, appointed for the Second Sunday of Easter in all three years of the Lectionary’s repetitive process, reminds us that in the midst of our own sin and abandonment of our Lord, He never gives up on us. He finds us even when we cower in our safe rooms, in our world of safe-distancing, in our perceived isolation, even as we bear not only the weight of our fear, but also of our shame and sorrow.
This lesson also reminds us that the church’s life is forever bound within the life, death, and resurrection of our Lord. The Gospel writer clearly tells us that one may not fully celebrate the resurrection of Christ until (and unless) we move from our safe rooms to the world around us. The power of Christ is not manifested in His ability to appear through locked doors into barricaded rooms, but by His action of breathing new life — New Spirit — into his disciples. Remember what I said above, that there weren’t just twelve disciples? You and I are included as well.
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