The Gospel of John, 20th chapter tells us that on the evening of Easter Sunday, the disciples locked themselves in an upper room because they feared for their life. Now the writer says that the disciples were afraid that the authorities would find them. You have to think they were a little worried that a risen Jesus would find them too. A 'he who we thought was dead' Jesus on the loose in the world might have been too frightening to consider.
Whatever they were thinking inside that room, they certainly needed time to process (great 21st century term). Perhaps the more level headed amongst them were still trying to make sense out of the women's tales about a missing, risen, alive Jesus. You and I both know that we have no category in our thinking for such a phenomena; they were wrestling with something that up to that very day was impossible. Ridiculous. Out of this world.
A dozen or so people crammed into an airless room, suspicious of each other, and afraid of everyone else.........it wasn't a good atmosphere for rational thinking. But of this I am certain, no matter what they were thinking or believing, they weren't about to take it to the streets and blab it all over the place. That kind of thing was dangerous! They locked the door. To keep the authorities out. To keep strangers out. To keep themselves inside.
Bet you recognize that attitude, that reluctance to take the news about Jesus to the streets. You know, I believe in God deeply but I don't talk about it with other people. I don't want to offend. I don't want to look like a fanatic. I don't want to lose friends, business, or dinner invitations. I keep my faith to myself.
We have all kinds of locked doors to protect ourselves. We lock out those of questionable background. We lock out those who talk about God differently from us. We lock out those who don't know our special way of doing things. We lock out those whose children are unruly. We lock out those who can no longer make the stairs or hear the preacher or drive their cars. We lock out those who speak a different language.
We lock out anyone who qualifies as 'other.' which of course is the most ironic, if not sad. In the name of Jesus, we lock out the very people Jesus went out of his way to invite in. Jesus who spent his entire ministry changing the locks, throwing open the doors, welcoming everyone and anyone, is now the reason we keep to ourselves. Jesus found a way to speak with every stripe of human being; we huddle behind all kinds of barriers and avoid speaking to the stranger.
But when we lock others out, we also lock ourselves in. We huddle in our worship spaces, repeating the prayers of the centuries, singing the most familiar music, as our numbers slowly diminish. We lock the future out - and the fear inside only escalates. The very peace which we know in Jesus suffocates in our locked spaces, our locked minds and hearts.
....and we lose Jesus and the peace that he brings to us, the peace that he is to us, and the power of life that comes with that peace.
Yet, hear the good news. No lock is going to keep Jesus from coming to you. This crucified and risen Jesus will not be stopped by a cross, a tomb, a locked door...or a barricaded heart. In him is peace, and that peace is a whole new life. There is no end or limit to it.
Jesus appears to the grieving and frightened disciples not to scold or to judge, but to bring them peace. That is the gift he continues to offer to every single person, a gift so powerful that once it is yours, you cannot lock it in either.
Doors. Locks. Fear.
Jesus. Peace. Life.
