First Presbyterian Church
Rev. Sam Pendergrast
March 30, 2008
John 20:19-31
“Through Closed Doors”
One of my father's many sayings that I remember from my childhood is: “Locks only keep honest people out.” That's what a police officer will tell you. It proved to be true in my parents' case. Their home was broken into twice. The thieves kicked in the basement door, then took a pick-axe and destroyed the locked door at the top of the basement stairs. After that, my parents installed an alarm system. Behind locked doors – like the disciples. What would happen? Who would come in?
“When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week…” John is very careful, very explicit. This is the same day that Peter and the other disciple found the tomb empty. This is the very same day that the risen Jesus spoke to Mary in the garden. Still the disciples were afraid. They met behind locked doors, fearful that the authorities would come for them, too. The events of the past few days were too much to shake, even after what happened in the graveyard that morning. The disciples did what any of us do in the face of fear. We either run and hide, or, if we're really brave, we get ready to fight. Peter had tried fighting when he drew his sword in the garden. That had not turned out so well. Now the disciples did their best to find a safe place to hide.
I heard a report once that after the 9/11 attacks the sales of locks, alarms and other security devices rose sharply. If you stop and think about it, locks and alarms are not likely to stop a terrorist. I think the idea of doing something made people feel better. Being behind locked doors with alarms on them seemed more secure than being out in the open or allowing strangers easy access to one's home. It reduced the sense of vulnerability.
The disciples gathered together on that first Easter Day. It was evening. It had been a confusing day. Some claimed that Jesus had been raised from the dead. Mary said he had spoken to her in the garden. Some had seen the empty tomb. Still, they were afraid. Their leader had been killed. What would the Jewish leaders do to them? So they locked themselves in. Didn't they realize that a locked door would not stop a determined mob? They weren't really safe. But they were hiding because they were afraid.
In recent sermons I have reminded you of the situation of the early Christian community to which John wrote his Gospel. They were a persecuted minority. They were adjusting their expectations about Jesus’ return in glory. They were complaining, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” They, like Mary, stood in a garden where they were asked, “Why are you weeping?” And I can imagine them hiding in an upper room, fearful of who might come through those closed doors.
Who might come through those doors? They had closed those doors against the frightening events of the past. They had closed those doors against the threat outside. Had they also closed those doors against the future? Were they hiding from Jesus too? If he really had been raised, what would he be like? What would he do? What would he want from them? Would he be angry that they all had run away? Would he want them to go out and face the world again? Wouldn't that be dangerous? Fortunately for them, locked doors did not stop Jesus from getting to them.
He came in and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” At least that part was O. K. But then he said something really scary: “As the Father sent me, so I send you.” Their response was, “You're kidding, Jesus. You mean you want us to go out there like you did? They'll kill us!” If that was all he had said, if that was all he had done, their fear may have been justified. But there was something more. He breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” He gave them power to live in a new way, to continue his work, and to form a new community.
That's what it was about. It was about letting go of the past. It was about forgiveness. It was about seeing the world in a new way. It was about seeing the world from God's perspective. Without the gift of the Spirit, forgiveness would not have been possible. Without forgiveness, new life would not have been possible. Without forgiveness, the disciples were stuck. The memory of what had happened would poison any effort to spread the Gospel. Unless forgiveness were really possible they could never go to the people who had killed Jesus and invite them into the Kingdom. Without forgiveness, all they could do would be to nurse grudges and live in fear of retribution. But Jesus gave them the power to forgive sins.
That’s why you don’t have to have a special holy person pronounce forgiveness of sins after the prayer of confession during worship. The pastor is no more or no less able to declare forgiveness than any other person. That’s why Christie or Taylor or Cathy or Bob can say, “I declare to you in the name of Jesus Christ, we are forgiven.” Jesus has given all of us the authority to forgive sins. Through the gift of the Holy Spirit, any Christian person can choose to forgive or refuse to forgive.
He's not talking about making them the judges of what's right and wrong. He's not talking about letting people into the church if they're willing to act right. He's not talking about behavior at all. He's talking about an attitude. He's talking about a way of seeing – a way of seeing other people from God's point of view. Every one of us is flawed. Every one of us stumbles and falls. Every one of us regrets our own failures and inconsistencies. We need grace. We need to know that we are loved and valued in our limitations and imperfections. We will never be perfect this side of the Kingdom. We need the peace that comes from knowing that we are forgiven and that we have another chance. Dietrich Bonhoeffer said, “The forgiveness of sins still remains the sole ground of all peace.” It is forgiveness that makes us part of the church. It is forgiveness that makes us equal. Forgiveness is the foundation of our life in Christ.
The trouble with forgiveness is that we don't want to do it. We would rather resist having to change. We would rather resist having to see people from God's point of view. We would rather hang on to grudges and grievances. It takes a lot of courage to let anyone in behind those closed doors. It takes a lot of power and courage to unlock my heart enough to be willing to forgive and to entertain the possibility of something new. But without forgiveness we are stuck. And not only stuck, we are eaten up with resentment. Frederick Buechner said it this way:
To lick your wounds, to smack your lips over grievances long past, to roll over your tongue the prospect of bitter confrontations still to come, to savor to the last toothsome morsel both the pain you are given and the pain you are giving back – in many ways, it is a feast fit for a king. The chief drawback is that what you are wolfing down is yourself. The skeleton at the end of the feast is you.
Unforgiven sin locks the doors of our hearts. It diminishes us because it keeps our lives the poorer for not being in community with those who could enrich us. It's not about being right or wrong. It's not about making sure everyone in the church believes or thinks the same thing. The power that Jesus gave the disciples when he breathed on them is the power to open the doors of their hearts to the presence of other forgiven people. It is the power to become a community whose common denominator is having been reconciled and forgiven by a risen Lord.
Thank God that our locked doors can't keep Jesus out. He continues to come to us and offer us new life, new relationships, new hope. He calls us into community with people whose presence will challenge us to be more than we are. He calls us away from the past. He calls us to leave our fear behind.
What doors have you closed? What experiences from your past would you rather not face? Where are you stuck? What dead ends have you reached where you are praying for new beginnings?
This Easter season, I invite you to unlock the doors of your heart and to welcome Jesus' invitation to forgive. You have the power to forgive sins. You have the power to let go of grudges and bitterness. You have the power to build a new community.
Thanks be to God, that, even today, Jesus continues to enter the locked rooms of our hearts. He gives us his peace. He breathes on us, give us the Holy Spirit and gives us the power to forgive, freeing us from the power of the past and inviting us to follow in faith the one who makes all things new, even us.