“The Divine Intruder”

A Sermon Preached by

The Rev. Jean Niven Lenk

at the

First Congregational Church of Stoughton

United Church of Christ

I want you to know that I have been to a lot of different churches in my life, but I have never ever been to a church that does the Passing of the Peace with as much enthusiasm as this one!! 

There is a church in the Pacific Northwest which may come close to rivaling ours in exuberance and enthusiasm when it comes to Passing the Peace.  Like us, they leave their pews to embrace one another and warmly welcome newcomers with a kind word, a handshake, or a hug.

Nobody in that church thought much about their weekly ritual of Passing the Peace until the day the pastor received a letter from a promising young attorney in a prestigious downtown law firm who had recently joined the congregation.  The lawyer wrote a brief but pointed letter on his firm’s stationery.  “I am writing to complain about the congregational ritual known a ‘passing the peace,’” he wrote.  “I disagree with it, both personally and professionally, and I am prepared to take legal action to cause this practice to cease.’” 

When the pastor phoned the lawyer to talk about the letter, he asked why the man was so disturbed.  The lawyer answered, “The passing of the peace is an invasion of my privacy.” 

And listen to the pastor’s response.  He said, “Like it or not, when you joined the church, you gave up some of your privacy, for we believe in a risen Lord who will never leave us alone.”  Then he added, “You never know when Jesus Christ will intrude on us with a word of peace.”

That’s exactly what happens in today’s passage from the Gospel of John.  It is the evening of the first Easter, and the events of the past eight days have taken their toll on the disciples.  Earlier in the week, they watched as Jesus was welcomed like a hero into Jerusalem and as he took back the temple from the merchants, restoring it to the people as a house of prayer.  On Thursday, they had their feet washed by Jesus and shared a Last Supper with him; then Judas betrayed him, Peter denied him, and most of the disciples abandoned him.  And then their Master and Teacher was arrested, flogged, crucified, and laid in a tomb.

But early this morning, when the women brought spices to the tomb to anoint Jesus’ body, it was gone!  The women ran to tell the disciples that angels had appeared to them saying Jesus was risen.  And although during his earthly life Jesus had told his closest friends that he would die and rise on the third day, the disciples think the women’s story is an “idle tale.”  They believe it is more likely that the rumors are true about Jesus’ body being stolen.

William James, the American philosopher, wrote, "Faith is the force of life, and when it is absent, life collapses." What we see in this morning’s Scripture lesson is a circle of collapsed disciples whose faith has vanished.  And so they huddle together in a locked room, not only in fear of the religious authorities, but also with guilt over their own faithless words and actions; the last time some of these men saw Jesus, they were glancing back over their shoulders as they ran in the opposite direction. 

That locked room becomes their place of refuge, their sanctuary.  The word "sanctuary" comes from the Latin sanctus, meaning holy, and in English, the word is used in two different ways, both of them related and both of them profoundly religious.  There's this kind of sanctuary – a place where we feel near to the heart of God, a place made holy by our worshipping presence.  And there are also bird and wildlife sanctuaries – a safe space, a refuge, a place where you can’t be hunted down. 

There's a reason the one word has two meanings.  You see, throughout the ages, sanctuaries – or, holy places – have provided sanctuary – or, refuge – for people seeking a safe place.  In The Hunchback of Notre Dame, the famous French novel by Victor Hugo, the central figure is Quasimodo, a disabled, disfigured person who is the target of ridicule and maltreatment; he seeks sanctuary in the famed bell towers of Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris.  There, he feels protected from the persecution of others because they can not get to him as long as he stays in the church. 

Well, we do not know how long the disciples would have remained huddled together in fear and anxiety behind those locked doors of their sanctuary, because they receive a surprise visitor, a divine intruder.  Christ knows better than to knock on the door before entering; after all, the disciples would not have answered it.  No, the risen Christ intrudes – just like that pastor in the Pacific Northwest said he would; he invades the disciples’ safe space; but rather than saying to them, “Shame on you!” for their denials and desertions of the week before, he comes with a simple message: “Peace be with you!” 

The disciples have probably heard this common greeting a thousand times before.  But now those words become a healing balm which gives them a peace they have been sorely missing; Christ speaks, and with his words, he breathes peace into their lives and their souls.

We are all sitting here this morning in a “sanctuary.”  And indeed that is what I hope this church is to you – both a place where you feel near to the heart of God, and also a place of refuge.  At those times when the world overwhelms you, when you need a safe space where you can find the love and support and care of another, I hope it is to this place, and to this church family, that you come.

But do not confuse “sanctuary” with a place where you are locked away and unreachable, like the disciples may have thought they were on that first Easter evening.  Because Jesus will find you; he will pursue you and he will invade your privacy, whether you or that attorney like it or not!  Christ intrudes into our well fortressed lives, getting through the walls and doors and locks we erect to keep him – and the world – at a distance. 

And we do put up walls around our lives, don’t we?  Like the disciples, we try to lock out the terrible world, and we just may try to lock God out, too.  But we can never really lock God out of our lives anymore than we can lock away the pain and sadness that touch each and every human life.  Like Jesus miraculously appearing to his fainthearted disciples, God moves through our locked doors to offer words of peace and comfort.  And God also offers us words of challenge, because God does not want us to stay locked behind the doors of fear.  God’s challenge is that we throw open those doors of fear with a heart of faith. And in time the disciples do that, each and every one of them.  They all move beyond those fearful doors into a hostile world to boldly proclaim and live out the Good News of Jesus Christ.

Jesus interferes with our lives and invades our privacy to bring us peace.  If you are anxious and paralyzed by fear; if you are besieged by financial worries, trapped by debt or financial obligations; if you are haunted by family stresses or relationship strains, if you are terrified of illness or death – your own or someone’s you love – then listen to these words from God:  “Be not afraid,” “Do not be anxious,”[i] “Peace be with you”[ii] – “for I am with you,”[iii] “I have heard you,”[iv] “I will help you,”[v] “and you will find rest for your souls.”[vi]

Somewhere in his writings, poet T. S. Elliot refers to the risen Lord with the striking figure of speech, “Christ the tiger."  Think of how the apostles are locked away in fear, mired in hopelessness, and suddenly, surprisingly, the Risen Christ appears.  Alive.  Free.  Strong.  Invincible.  Christ the tiger. 

Fear builds cages for God, but faith makes us bigger and braver than we ever could have imagined.  Harry Emerson Fosdick, the 20^th century pastor and activist, put it like this:

Fear imprisons, faith liberates;

fear paralyzes, faith empowers;

fear disheartens, faith encourages;

fear sickens, faith heals;

and most of all fear puts hopelessness at the heart of life,

while faith rejoices in its God.

[Show Blue Sheet.]  We have a lot of names on this blue sheet.  But I know there are many more of you not on this list who are ill and suffering and in need of our prayers.  And it’s OK not to have you’re name here; we’ll respect your desire for privacy.  But Jesus won’t.  When our instinct is to retreat, Jesus reaches out to us; when our instinct is to hide, he’ll go looking for us.  His love for us is so deep and real that he comes to us at the place of our suffering, no matter how many locks fear has installed on the doors to our heart.

I suspect that many of you – even if you come to church and read the bible and say your prayers – I suspect that many of you still want to keep Christ at a safe distance.  “Don’t invade my privacy, because what I do is my business.  Don’t get too close, because I don’t want to change.”

Because it is true – when Christ invades your territory, he will turn everything upside down.  He will dismantle and then rebuild your world – rebuild it into something more meaningful and peaceful and joy-filled.  He will satisfy that yearning in your soul, and he will fill that God-shaped hole in your heart. 

My friends, if we believe in the resurrection of Jesus, then it is possible to believe that we, too, will be freed from the locked rooms of our fears and anxiety.  Because Jesus rose from the dead, we too can be reborn; we too can be transformed and become new, and Christ will not be kept out of our lives by our restrictions, our defense mechanisms, or our locks.

What the cross of Christ reveals is that when we are so paralyzed by fear and overcome by shadows that we can no longer help ourselves, when we have reached the stage where we can no longer open the door to let light and life in, God can still come through our locked doors, stand inside our fear, and breathe out peace.

So, don’t hide; don’t barricade the door; don’t hole up in your fortress.  You might as well leave the door open, because Jesus will get in anyway. 

Jesus – he’s going to invade your privacy.  You’ve been duly warned; don’t even think of taking legal action.  Amen.