For Sunday, April 27, 2014 – John 20:19-31

Was it lack of courage that sent the shaking disciples into lockdown? Or just the stark and unavoidable awareness of what can, and does, happen when one is faithful? Maybe their human frailty, their shock, their incapacity to conquer, has overwhelmed them into hiding. We do it all the time—assess the situation and bolt the doors of our lives against the potential intruder, the fear of what might come. One summer in Harlem in the 1980s, when the crack epidemic was hitting hard and violence was common, I shared an apartment with a woman from the church where I volunteered. She had seven dead bolt locks on her door, with good reason. These knees-knocking disciples are not being ridiculous; what they have experienced would lead the bravest among us into lockdown.

What kind of community will they be—one that is drawn together by a shared spirit of outrage and fear, with a litany of all that is wrong “out there,” or a community in which people will rise to radical courage and joy and trust? To remain in a state of outrage, as justified as the outrage might be—to be known for what you are against instead of who you are striving to become—yields a community of constriction, not compassion. Thank God, Jesus breaks in, interrupting the flow of fear. Here I am, he says. See me. Touch me. Yes, suffering comes when we dream and dare. Peace comes, too, on the far side of suffering.

Our Thomas-heavy selves still have trouble believing. We don’t see tangible signs of courage and joy in our own circles of belonging. Has Jesus broken through? How will we know? With great intimacy and tenderness, Jesus shows his wounds, the truth of his story, and then breathes upon us, peace. In that way he gives us a Way. Let yourself be seen and touched. Don’t be ashamed of your hidden hurt. Feel the fear and discover your courage. Be destitute yet filled with hope, doubting yet trusting; risk revealing the whole story of who you are. These will be the building blocks of the new community, one in which you will find both refuge and the call to action. One in which you will become yourself, and learn the joy of giving yourself away.