Jesus meets us (Jn. 20:19–31)

I read an interesting article in the Weekend Australian last weekend by foreign editor and devout Catholic, Greg Sheridan. Each year he writes an Easter article, and in this one he says that Christianity is set apart from all other religions by the crucifixion. God becomes a human being, lives with average people, and then dies. If we didn’t believe that Jesus was a real person who did those things in a moment in history, all we have is a set of moral values that we all fail to uphold.

God with us. Every Christmas, we are reminded that God chose to dwell with us when he was named ‘Immanuel’. It’s worthwhile remembering that at Easter time as well. Jesus dying and then rising again are not just symbolic – they were real things that truly happened. That’s why we trust the word of the eyewitnesses of the resurrection more than anyone else.

Today, Jesus comes to be with his people again, although things are different this time. Now that he is resurrected, Jesus has something more to offer his apostles, and us too. Today, Jesus meets our fear, he meets our scepticism, and he meets us here.

Jesus meets our fear

What is your biggest fear? People can have genuine fears of all kinds of things: needles, storms, dogs, snakes, insects, enclosed spaces, open spaces, heights, flying... The most common fears fit into a category known as “social phobias.” I guess that’s where the fear of public speaking fits.

It’s a very natural thing for us human beings to experience fear. We fear specific things when we are faced with them, but we also have more constant and more subtle fears, too. Here’s a different question: What worries you, concerns you? What keeps you up at night?

I think uncertainty is what tends to be the underlying cause of many of our fears. We quite often talk about life as a journey, or a walk. We’re walking forwards into the future — the world is your oyster! The possibilities are endless. Your life has limitless potential. That’s the mentality we were taught at school anyway.

I took Hebrew classes as part of my ministry training, and one of the interesting things I learned about ancient Hebrew culture is how they viewed the future. We would say we walk forwards into the future, but the Hebrew understanding is as if you walk backwards into the future. You can clearly see what’s happened in the past, but you’re completely blind to the future. Hence our uncertainty about life. We simply don’t know what tomorrow will hold, let alone the next hour. Understandably, we often feel a bit uncomfortable about that, maybe even fearful.

This is how the apostles were feeling on that first Easter day. Their mentor, teacher, and friend was dead. They had spent the last few years following Jesus wherever he went, witnessing amazing things and listening to his teaching. And then, within a week, things took a drastic turn, and he was killed. The apostles feared that they would be next. Then, they hear that he wasn’t in the tomb that morning, that he had risen from the dead. Impossible! They hadn’t seen him. They lock the doors and stay together, feeling very uncertain about the near future.

Then, we read that Jesus simply “came.” He wasn’t there, and then he was. And then, he breaks into their fear, uncertainty, worry, concern, and says, “Peace be with you.” He knows

their fear. He knows the loss they have just experienced. He knows the uncertainty they’re feeling. He knows the guilt and shame that they probably felt — all of them abandoned Jesus when things went south. Maybe this was another cause for fear. Jesus enters the room and puts all these issues to rest by saying, “Peace be with you.”

Jesus meets our scepticism

For whatever reason, Thomas wasn’t there. I think we tend to be a bit harsh on poor old Tom — he’s forever known as “doubting Thomas” because of this text. But if we try to understand his situation a bit more, we might begin to see something different.

I think it’s amazing that the apostles let Thomas back in at all. He wasn’t around on that Easter Sunday evening when Jesus came, and he even refused to believe what his brothers were saying to him. He goes as far as saying that unless he physically touches Jesus’ wounds, he won’t believe. Fast-forward to the following Sunday: the apostles are back together, again behind locked doors, and who’s there with them? So-called “doubting Thomas.” Sure, he might not be fully convinced that Jesus is truly alive again, but he gives it a chance. So, Thomas gives Jesus a chance, and the apostles give Thomas a chance.

Again, Jesus turns up and breaks through all the uncertainty, the doubt, the scepticism, and says, “Thomas, I know you’re sceptical. I know you’ve got questions. I know you’ve got doubts. I know you’d like to know what your future holds. Stop. Look at me. Look at what I did for you. You can even touch my wounds if you want to. Have my peace.”

Every time the resurrected Jesus is present, he brings his peace.

This peace is not about settling an argument. It’s not about proving facts. It’s not about an emotion. It’s about our risen Lord Jesus being in our presence, having won the forgiveness of sins on that cross for us, and making us whole again.

Thomas goes from being sceptical to confessing, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus offered his hands and side for him to touch, but it’s not clear if he even touched after all. I have a feeling that seeing Jesus and hearing him speak was enough for him to believe. Thomas had questions, and Jesus responded by coming to him and helping him to believe.

Jesus meets us here

Jesus met the apostles’ fear and Thomas’ scepticism by being present with them and offering them his gift of peace. He does the same thing for us, too. The risen Jesus is different from before. He’s no longer limited to one specific time and place, but by his Spirit he is always everywhere.

How do we know that? How can we be sure that Jesus is with us? He promises to be, and he keeps his promises.

“For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.” By his Holy Spirit, Jesus promises to be with his people when they gather in his name. Therefore, we start every service with the invocation: “In the name of the Father, Son, and Spirit.” When those words are spoken, we can be sure that he is truly present with us.

He tells his apostles to go out and baptise people in his name and teach them his Word. This command comes with a promise: “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” By baptism, we become God’s adopted children, and through it, Jesus promises to be with us always — not just to the end of our lifetime, but the end of the age. Forever.

We believe that the bread and wine of Holy Communion are truly Christ’s body and blood. Why? Because he said so: “This is my body... this is my blood.” We receive Christ’s own

body and blood when we eat and drink. We receive his peace deep within us. We might not feel it emotionally, but we have it. When Jesus says so, it is so. His Word is trustworthy and sure.

Jesus came to the apostles and gave them his peace. But this peace isn’t just for them — it’s also for us. The apostles were blessed to have been with Jesus during his ministry, but Jesus says, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” That’s us. He also gave his apostles the authority to forgive sins, which has been passed on through the church to us. That forgiveness is only possible because of Jesus’ sacrificial death and glorious resurrection. Our task as a church is to share that peace and forgiveness with the world. To carry out that task, Jesus gives us his Holy Spirit to help and guide us.

So, in our fear and worry, Jesus offers us his peace. In our questions and scepticism, he shows us himself. We have received the peace that the risen Lord offers us through his gracious gifts. May that peace be yours again today, though our risen Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.