Second Sunday of Easter*

April 7                         NOTES FOR REFLECTION             Second Sunday of Easter*

[*Let's not call it Low Sunday.  Contrary to popular opinion, that designation was not dreamed up by clergy who, having enjoyed larger than usual congregations on Easter Day, were faced with the usual poor numbers a week later!  The more likely derivation is simply to contrast this Sunday with the High Feast of Easter.  If we really want to show off, we could revert to the former Latin title of "Dominica in Albis", which was an abbreviation of the expression "Dominica in Albis deponendis", being the day on which those baptised at Easter would put off their white robes.  (Yes, they wore them for a week!)  The Roman Catholic Church has abandoned all this for "the Second Sunday of Easter": this is one of those times in which I am happy to follow Rome's lead.]

Texts: Acts 5:27-32; Revelation 1:4-8; John 20:19-31

Theme:  If we want to focus on Thomas, perhaps something like "Through Doubt to Conviction" would do.  "Seeing is Believing" comes quickly to mind; but in view of our Lord's closing remark ["blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed"] it may be better not to go there.  Other possibilities include "The Story Continues", "As with Him so with Them", or even "Life Goes On", all of which can convey something of the great paradox at the heart of Easter where discontinuity and continuity meet, not in contrast, but in harmony.

Introduction.  During the Easter Season we do not have readings from the Old Testament: instead we take our first lesson from the Book of Acts, and we see the way in which the life and ministry of Jesus continues through his disciples, and within them.  They are transformed.  Look at them at the start of our gospel reading, and we see them cowering in fright behind locked doors.  Yet in our reading from Acts we find them in prison (more locked doors) for refusing to stop preaching the gospel.  To emphasise the theme of continuity, they are brought before the Council (Sanhedrin), the very body before which Jesus was brought after his arrest.  Another way of stressing continuity, of course, is provided by our reading from Revelation, when the crucified, risen and ascended Christ speaks from the heavenly realms.

Background.  In his book "Resurrection" the former Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Rowan Williams, calls this encounter between the Risen Christ and his cowering disciples on Easter Evening the greatest act of forgiveness and reconciliation imaginable.  Contrast this with a trashy novel I bought for $1 in a bargain bin a few years ago, only because it had the word "Cornwall" in the title, and I foolishly thought that meant it had some connection with the county of my birth.  It was the story of a man who had died very suddenly.  He discovers that he has survived death and is able to see what's going on where he used to live.  He finds that his wife and her lover had been responsible for his sudden demise, to which, not surprisingly, he takes rather strong exception.  He sets about planning his revenge.

Let's stop there.  That brief outline of the plot is enough for my present purposes.  However awful that novel was (and, even though it was hard-cover with over 400 pages in reasonable condition, it was not worth the money I paid for it) the "hero's" motivation did ring true.  I imagine that most murder victims would rather relish the thought of a post-mortem confrontation with the murderer(s).  Alternatively, given the opportunity to "re-visit" the earth, would we prefer to stay well clear of those who had done us wrong and use such a second chance to be with those we loved and who loved us?  Or perhaps we might feel like a complete break – a whole new start?

Jesus comes back to those who had failed him in his hour of need, not to settle the score, not to prove that he was right and they were wrong, but to assure them that they are still his friends, he still loves them, and forgives them all their failings.  Imagine the emotional turmoil in that room, the fear, the shame, the self-disgust, and the hopelessness.  And into that atmosphere Jesus' words come forth, "Peace be with you."  There, surely, is the start of the New Creation.  Into the Primeval Chaos God said "Let there be Light", and there was light.  Into the emotional chaos in that room that evening Christ said "Let there be Peace", and there was peace.

Notice how this is an extraordinary exercise of strength and power.  This is not the "doormat" peace that we see so often in our daily lives, and within parish life in particular.  "Well, better not say anything – it'll only make matters worse.  Don't rock the boat – anything for peace and quiet" – all those are the approaches of weak people, and almost always result in small problems becoming bigger.  Jesus could have decided to avoid any confrontation with the disciples – perhaps seek other converts – perhaps bide his time for a couple of years or so and lie in wait for Saul of Tarsus.  That would have avoided any unpleasantness, perhaps, but it would not have shown the disciples or us the way to the Father, the way of Christ.  It would not have shown the truth that St Paul was to express so powerfully with his "nothing can separate us from the love of God" theology.  NOTHING includes betrayal, denial and abandonment by handpicked disciples.

And before leaving this story, can we spend a moment with that word "peace", particularly as Christ uses it as a word of greeting.  How often do we hear it at the start of our Eucharistic services and take little notice of it!  Perhaps we are still gazing around to see who has turned up and who hasn't (where's Thomas?).  But if we really take these words on board, at least during this Easter Season, what a powerful effect they might have on us: Grace and peace to you from God.  Are we any more worthy than the disciples to receive such a greeting?  Do we have no emotional chaos that needs to have such words breathed into it?

Finally a word about Thomas.  He has gone down in history as "Doubting Thomas", just as Judas is remembered as the betrayer, and Peter as the one who denied Christ 3 times.  Yet the Passion narratives are clear.  All had their doubts, all had their fears and their desires for self-survival, all ran away, and all our now in hiding.  There is certainly a Thomas in me, and a Peter, and a Judas.  I need to hear those wonderful words of greeting every bit as much as those guys in that room that night.

Acts.  Luke the master-story-teller is in top form with this chapter 5 of the Book of Acts.  It has his comic touch, but also his ability to convey deep truth.  He opens with the story of Ananias and Sapphira, whose devious self-serving lies lead to (spiritual, if not physical) death.  That is immediately followed by a summary account of the healing ministry carried on by the apostles, very reminiscent of similar accounts of Jesus' ministry to the sick.  As with Jesus, so with the apostles, their very "success" leads to opposition in high places, and they are imprisoned.  But as the tomb was not able to resist the resurrection power of the Spirit, so the locks on this prison are no barrier to the liberating power of the Spirit acting for the apostles and they are freed.  It's a nice touch that from the outside of the prison all seems in order; the guards are still there and nothing seems amiss.  We are reminded that guards were posted outside Jesus' tomb to prevent the disciples stealing his body.  As mentioned above, the disciples are brought before the Council, the body before which Jesus was brought after his arrest.  Far from hiding behind locked doors the escapees have gone to the Temple to continue their teaching ministry.  Verse 29 is particularly poignant, as Peter asserts, "We must obey God rather than human beings".  We recall his rebuke by Jesus for having in mind human concerns instead of the concerns of God: Matthew 8:33.  Again, notice the direct approach: Peter does not make any attempt to water down the truth: he reminds them of their responsibility for Jesus' death.  Their attitude has changed somewhat: they are no longer willing to accept that responsibility: verse 28.  Contrast this with Matthew 27:25.

Taking It Personally.

·         With Holy Week and Easter Day still fresh in your mind, focus on the difference you see in the Peter of Maundy Thursday evening and the Peter of today.  Are you aware of such inner transformation in your character arising from your Easter faith?

·         Has there been a moment in your life when your faith seemed to lead you into conflict with the demands of the authorities?

·         Focus on verse 32: of what "things" are you a witness?  How would you explain to a friend the significance of Holy Week and Easter?

·         Did you renew your baptismal vows this Easter?  Was that significant for you or just something we do in the service?

Revelation.  And here is that wonderful greeting again!  To the seven churches of the province of Asia, the Glorified Christ sends "Grace and peace".  The Trinitarian theology has not yet been worked out so it appears that the Father and the Son are still thought of separately here, which can be a bit clumsy to our ear, but the message is clear enough.  Christ is with the Father in the heavenly realms.  He is the faithful witness (to God's work), the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler above all earthly rulers.  And when he comes, all will see him, including those who pierced him.  There again is that reference to an encounter between Christ and those who were responsible for his death.

Taking It Personally.

·         Spend some time meditating on those words "grace and peace": let them seek deeply into you.  Next time you hear them in a service, bring to mind their significance in this reading and the gospel passage.

·         Use this passage as a template for prayers of praise today.  Slowly go through the different "titles" ascribed to Christ.  "Oh, Christ, you are the faithful witness...you are the firstborn from the dead...etc.

·         Then add prayers of petition: "empower me to be a faithful witness also..."

·         End with the doxology from verse 6: "to you be glory and power for ever and ever.  Amen!"  And as we are in the Easter Season throw in a few "Alleluias" as well!

 

John.  Just one more thought in addition to those already offered above.  I am troubled by verse 23.  How can we reconcile this with the teaching to forgive others "70times7"?  Or, indeed, with the Lord's forgiveness of those who were crucifying him?  It may be that this addresses an issue that had arisen in the early Church as a matter of discipline.  It is well-documented that one controversial issue concerned those who had denied their faith during a time of persecution, and then wanted to rejoin after the danger had passed.  Perhaps such people had been demanding forgiveness as of right, and refusing to accept any need for a careful process of reconciliation.  It was while pondering this issue that it occurred to me (for the first time!) how strange it was that Jesus did not forgive those who were crucifying him; he prayed that the Father would forgive them.  I wonder what significance we are to attach to that, remembering that he got himself in immediate trouble when telling the paralytic that his sins were forgiven.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·         Another great story for praying with imagination.  Put yourself in the room with the disciples.  Sense their feelings before Christ appears, and then afterwards.  Take your time: enter as fully as possible into their experience.

·         Think about Thomas.  Is he more hero or villain in your eyes?

·         Notice that these two "events" are a week apart; and the disciples are still behind "locked doors".  What do you make of that?  Were they not set free of their fears the first time – even though they received the Holy Spirit?