from Alleluia to fear in an Upper Room....

It happens every year (or at least every year that follows the Revised Common Lectionary) - we leap from Alleluia to fear and hiding.  In one week.  In truth, the events happened much more quickly but we only gather for regular worship once a week so we need to wait 7 days to discover the disciples hiding out in the Upper Room.  With. The. Door. Locked.

One week.  But then we are much more skilled at fear than at Alleluia, and besides, we have had 2000 years to digest this outrageous news about a risen Jesus and we don't quite understand what it all means so I can give those disciples a break.  Fear is a more familiar companion to this lifetime than resurrection will ever be.

Fear is learned at our mother's knee; it is a critical lesson we must all master or be crushed by the powers that prowl the night.  Most days it wears the masks of respect or caution or good sense, but the ultimate message is this: great harm can come to us.  Physical harm. Emotional harm.  Spiritual harm.  We better beware.  In the end, it is all fear.

Fear that the fragile light of life that is us will be snuffed by other forces is the foundation for so many of our actions.  Exercise, diet, work habits, diligence at school, wearing our seat belt, smoke detectors, background checks, sunscreen, savings accounts.  On our very best days, we take all these threats to our continued life as necessary nuisances and we light birthday candles and build sand castles and play soccer and do crossword puzzles and simply get on with living.  On our worst days, our fear drives our interactions with friend and foe alike so we end up contributing to the deadly atmosphere around us.

So let us not look sideways at those disciples huddled in that upper room With.The.Door.Locked.  The door won't keep the fear at bay, but it gave them all a sense of false hope.  No one was going to sneak up on them; they would decide who got into that tiny hidey hole.

Yet, they couldn't and didn't and thanks be to God.  Jesus just simply appeared in their midst ignoring the locked door, ignoring their embarrassing silence just a few days ago.  There he was, standing in the midst of them, alive, forgiving, handing out gifts of peace to all.

It was the disciples, and not Jesus who carried a lingering odor of death, drenched in the sweat of fear.  Their racing hearts  warned them that death was at the door, seeking out an opportunity to crush the life right out of them.  In the middle of that scenario (our scenarios would feature courtrooms and ERs and dark alleys and sleepless nights) Jesus stands - life in the midst of death....inviting all who were present, and all who are reading their story....to leave death behind and embrace the life that is life, the life that comes through Jesus.

With the story of Thomas, we learn that Easter isn't just about Jesus.  Jesus was the first; now he invites everyone else to follow.  Sure the Romans were still at the door and they were pretty scary fellows.  But then, look at that empty tomb.  Look at my hands and touch my side.  The Romans aren't in charge.

Welcome to the resurrection.