Finding joy in life by sharing peace
Easter 2C | John 20:19-31
Friends, it is still Easter! We get fifty days of the Easter season before the Day of Pentecost, and each week, we get another opportunity to explore the resurrection in a slightly different way.
Today is the Second Sunday of Easter. Notice the numbering convention: Easter Day is the first Sunday of Easter and so now we celebrate the second Sunday. And for this day, we get the next part in the gospel we attribute to John, which describes Jesus’s first two appearances to The Twelve.
It is also sometimes treated as Believing Sunday or, conversely, Doubting Thomas Sunday. But these depictions are less than helpful, as we’ll get into in a minute. First, we need to set up the scene.
Fear and the Judeans
When we read the Passion on Good Friday, we heard about the consequences of Jesus’s conflict with Empire and its infiltration into the lives of the Hebrew people. And what we are forced to wrestle with is how entangled it all is. Their sense of national, spiritual, legal, cultural identities are all intertwined in ways ours are not.
Throughout John’s gospel, the evangelist uses a phrase in Greek, hoi Iudaioi, which has traditionally been translated as “The Jews”. A more literal rendering would be “The Judeans”. But this is not only a question of translation.
It is quite clear from the text itself that Jesus and the evangelist are referring, not to the religious identity of the Jewish people as a whole or individually or the Judean people collectively because of where they live. He is not speaking to their Jewishness or their place of birth or ethnic identity.
In virtually every instance, the evangelist is referring to the political leaders of the Judean people. This appears to be backed up, too, by historical and archeological references to the leaders, the leadership structure, and their territorial authority.
Getting who we’re actually talking about
The marriage of religious and national identity for Jewish people has long made understanding this dynamic difficult. But it is essential that we understand that translating this phrase as “The Jews” has always had deadly consequences and remains intellectually dishonest. For it is not Jewishness that is on trial in the Passion. Political identity is on trial. And so is the fact that Temple leaders side with Roman occupation and support Rome’s killing Jesus as a terrorist.
We need to get clear on this before we enter that locked house with the twelve who are hiding in fear. Because they weren’t all that afraid two days earlier. Nor did those two goofballs, Peter and John, seem all that afraid when they raced each other to check out the empty tomb that morning.
They are afraid of the powerful. Of being tried and killed, too. They’re afraid that, because the leaders wanted to kill Lazarus, then why not them? This isn’t because of religion. Or identity. It’s about power.
Jesus brings peace
When Jesus shows up, he must be able to sense the fear and tension in the room, because he wishes them peace. And he blesses them with peace. He calms them with his breath.
He invites peace to still the storms in their hearts. But not because fear is inherently bad. This isn’t just a therapeutic moment. He’s not there to make them feel better. That’s not the full scope of the Jesus Event. He brings peace to them so they can bring peace to others, to the world. After saying “Peace be with you,” he says “ As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”
There is a natural moment here we might call a chain of peace. God sent Jesus with peace to send the twelve out with peace. One to one to one to one. But this chain isn’t merely about relieving fear. He then breathes on them, saying “Receive the Holy Spirit.” Jesus breathes the breath of God into them, projecting that breath into their own breath.
And this culminates in a bold commitment to reconciliation, redemption, and resurrection. He says “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” This peacemaking work of forgiveness and mercy doesn’t just involve them: it revolves around their own forgiving. Each other, their neighbors, strangers, and themselves.
Locked Away
I always find it interesting to contrast how the evangelist describes their location, how they’ve locked themselves inside a house out of fear and trembling, with the idea that Thomas isn’t with them. If things were so bad for them, why is he not there? Where did he go?
We don’t get an answer in the text, but I like to consider this gospel’s earlier reference to the apostle — when Jesus told his followers of the Passion to come, Thomas was gung ho. He was ready to face death with him right then. So I like to imagine that he’s the only one who got up on the morning of the third day and said to himself “I’m going to live like Jesus taught me.”
Active Thomas
Sometimes I imagine he’s out healing or feeding or teaching. Sharing the good news in word and deed. So when he gets back and finds out that their Rabbouni came back and showed his wounds to them and breathed the breath of God upon them and brought them peace, he’s hurt and confused and feeling left out. And come to think of it, why should I believe you all who are cowardly hiding out in this house when the real work is out in the streets, facing the threat of empire’s wrath?
So then, when Jesus shows up again for him, he doesn’t need to touch the wounds, or even see them. He wants to know it, feel it, be a part of it.
And Jesus gives us, everyone who was not in that house for either appearance the chance to be a part of it. That our belief matters. Think about that. This isn’t a case of “missing out.” It’s a case of having the opportunity to believe anyway.
Honestly, after Mary, I bet Thomas is the only one who really did believe without seeing.
Belief
It used to upset me that history has so slighted Thomas. It seems so undeserved. He isn’t doubting more than the rest, nor is doubt a bad thing. Remember, doubt is not the opposite of belief; indifference is. Doubt is necessary for belief. We need doubt to find belief.
But more importantly, this story isn’t really about doubt. The evangelist centers this passage in fear. The apostles are afraid. And that prevents them from living out what they believe. It isn’t doubt or disbelief in Jesus. It is fear that frustrates their belief. Fear of the powerful people who may threaten their lives.
I don’t know about you, but fear is always our greatest obstacle. It prevents us from striving and thriving. And how often is that fear warranted or to our benefit at all? Sometimes fear is just our anxiety dressed in a fancy suit. It wants to hijack our circulatory system and keep us locked inside for safety.
Open doors
Jesus teaches us to open our doors to our neighbors in need, not shut them, lock them.
Jesus teaches us to face the things that frighten us, knowing that they often are illusions, designed to intimidate us. Or they are practices intended to oppress us. But they have no true power over our lives on the inside — not if we don’t let them. Not if we believe in a God who transforms.
And Jesus teaches us to transform systems of injustice, which oppress and confine the grace of God.
We are inheriters of peace through a Word of grace. Our first job, above all others, is to share that peace, that grace, that Word with our neighbors. To live with the courage to love and the joy to know that this way of love is really the only way to live.