Reflection on John 10:1-10

 

Imagine that you are blind.  If you can, imagine that you have not seen a single thing since birth.  You have never seen a sunset.  You have never seen the eyes of your mother looking down upon you with love.  You have never seen waves of wind blowing over fields of grain. 

Imagine having none of those beautiful images embedded in your mind. 

Now imagine that, instead, embedded in your mind are the voices of people, not too secretly, bemoaning the fact that you will never experienced all that they have and will, as if you were a hurt puppy to be pitied.  You have heard them whispering of sins that must have been committed by you or your parents, leading to the existence your dark world.  Imagine, not only being excluded from conversation because you cannot see what others see, but being excluded from entire groups of people because others refuse to even come near.  They do not know how to relate with someone born blind.  You are a sin to be pitied or an alien to be excluded.

Now imagine suddenly feeling the coolness of mud wiped across your eyes with careful, caring hands, and a loving voice telling you to go and wash the mud off in a pool.  As the clumps of mud fall from your eyes, something new pierces into your world.  It is light!  You open your eyes and for the first time see the shimmering of water.  You look up and see the blue of the sky.  You look next to you and see the look of puzzlement on the face of someone standing beside you.  You did not realize that you were shouting at the top of your lungs the entire time.  You can see!  

You can see because someone took the time to come and find you.

Days later, you see the face of the one who took the time to come and find you.  He finds you again, after those who should have rejoiced with you, instead, turned on you and rejected you out of jealousy and hatred for the man who saved your sight.  You have once again been made alone by people who are blind to love, but Jesus finds you once again and invites you to be one of his sheep.

Jesus is the type of shepherd who goes out of his way to find his sheep.  Jesus is the type of shepherd who calls out his sheep’s names and his sheep hear his voice and follow him, trusting that he will lead them to green pastures and still waters.  Jesus is the type of shepherd who will lie in the gate of the sheepfold at night, using his body to protect and save his sheep.

“The Lord is my shepherd,” I imagine the soul of the formerly blind man singing.  “I shall not be in want” I imagine the soul of the formerly blind man musing as Jesus finds him a second time and provides him more than sight, but also a family and someone to follow.  “My cup overflows,” I imagine the blind man praising as he rests close to the one who saved him and gave him gifts greater than anything he could have possibly imagined, sight and a heavenly family.  Imagine the love now in that formerly blind man’s heart.  He will follow that savior anywhere.

Now, imagine that you are blind in spirit.  Imagine, like the religious leaders who threw out the formerly blind man from the community for trusting who they saw as a false prophet, imagine that your sense of right and wrong has made you blind to people and their suffering.  Imagine that all you see when you look at these people are violators of right and wrong who need to be set in their place.  They need to conform to the ways of everyone else.  They need to be punished and pushed down before they spread their ways and their lies to everyone else.

Imagine that someone came and showered love on them instead, and that the act of love did nothing to help you to see, rather it increased your hatred. 

Now, imagine that the one who showed loved, called you blind.  Do you now understand why Jesus was given a cross?

After-all, if you could see, you would seek and find rather than exclude and expel. 

Imagine Jesus trying to pry open your eyes so that you can see the world in a new way; so that you can see people in a new way.  Imagine Jesus opening your eyes to the ways of the great shepherd.

To tell you the truth, I have been both.  I have been the one who was excluded and mistreated, and who was found by Jesus and shown love and care.  I have also been the one who looked on others with eyes of right and wrong, condemning those in the wrong rather than loving them into the sheepfold.

When I was the excluded one, the love felt like nothing but grace. 

When I was the excluder, the love felt like weakness and fueled my burning rage even more. 

It was the same love of Jesus Christ in both cases, but in one case it saved me, and in the other case it condemned me.  But, notice how the saving and condemning had nothing to do with the lover, Jesus Christ.  Jesus just showered his love.  Everything had to do with me. 

When I was the one loved, I embraced it.  When the love was for someone else that I deemed unworthy, I disregarded it.  As the Apostle Paul once said, I treated Christ’s love as “foolishness.”  In the one case, I felt welcomed into Jesus’ sheepfold, and in the other I tried to sneak in and steal someone from Jesus’ care.  But, at all times it was all about how I either accepted or did not accept the love shown a particular sort of sheep.  It was all about me.

Do you know who it should have been about?  Jesus, the shepherd!

Jesus teaches, “The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice.”

It is Jesus who decides who he will find.  It is Jesus who decides who he will love and who he will call to follow.  It is Jesus who is the gatekeeper, who lies in front of the gate and lets in and out. 

Jesus says, “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me are thieves and bandits; but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture.”

As hard as it is to get it through this thick scull of mine, and my skull can be very, very thick, just ask my family, it is Jesus who is the gate.  Jesus gets to decide.  And, if I walk beside a sheep that I think stinks, it is of no concern to me because Jesus is the one who let them in and we both are followers.  I am not the leader.  I am not the shepherd.  And besides, I probably stink to them as well!

Jesus is the shepherd!  Jesus is the gate!  Salvation comes through him!  Salvation does not come through us.  How easy it is to forget.

I do not know if you had the chance to see David at Sight and Sound Theatre, but if you know the life of David, you know that he was both outcast and transgressor.  You see in the show how God provides for David, and how God corrects David.  Throughout the show, whenever David is either in the darkness of life, or is the cause of the darkness, the echo of a song can be heard; like the voice of God calling out, reminding him who he is and whose he is.  The echo sings his own words from Psalm 23, “The Lord is my shepherd…”

These five words are so, so beautiful.  They are a promise to us when we are the sheep finding ourselves in the dark valleys.  And, they are a reminder when we are the ones causing the darkness in the valley.

“The Lord is my shepherd…”

So, I will sing those five words over and over again.  They will be my hope.  They will be my guide.  They will be my truth.  Because they remind us to look to the one who is the way, the truth, and the life: Jesus Christ.  They remind us who it is that we need to follow, even though we may disagree and misunderstand: Jesus Christ.  They remind us who it is that provides abundant life; and I will tell you right now, it is not me and it is not you.  They remind us to look always to Jesus Christ who will not lead us by wrong pathways.

“The Lord is my shepherd.”  (Praying) Jesus, find us, lead us, and save us.  Amen.

Reflection on Luke 24:13-25

 

“We had hoped.”  These three heartbreaking words come right at us from the pages of Scripture.  “We had hoped.”  These three words carry all of the pain and grief that the disciples bear on their thin, bony shoulders after the death of their much beloved rabbi. 

“We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel,” the two disciples explain to the stranger who joins them on their journey (Luke 24:21).  Jesus had been a prophet who had done amazing, indescribably life changing things like healing those who were hopeless, feeding thousands with virtually nothing, forgiving the unforgivable, and raising from the dead.  More than that, his words dripped of the glory and love of God.  When he spoke, it was with authority; as if God were right there speaking the words.  And now, it is all gone.  Jesus is gone.  The one who was to save Israel is gone.

As the two disciples flee the city of Jerusalem, speaking with this stranger…they have no idea it is Jesus; their eyes are blind to that fact…their words seem to echo a very ancient question.  It is an ancient question we all utter at some point in life, but the death of Jesus allows the question to lurk in the background of all that they do and say: “Why do bad things happen to good people?”

Jesus was good.  Jesus was more than good.  He was great.  When you stood next to Jesus, you got the sense that God’s kingdom was right there surrounding Jesus, making every step that he took a literal spreading of God’s beautiful Garden of Eden; an expansion of God’s beautiful kingdom. 

Why would something bad happen to him?  How could something bad happen to him?  Why would God let something as humiliating as hanging on a Roman torture device, a cross, happen to such a good, good man?  Why do bad things happen to good people?

And, this utter devastation, all comes spilling out of their mouths in these three words, “We had hoped…”

The utterance, “We had hoped,” and the question, “Why do bad things happen?” are very closely tied to one another.

When the child dies, the devastated parents say, “We had hoped he would get a chance to play ball,” or “We had hoped that she would go on to become a neuroscientist,” or “We had hoped that our son would get to raise his own child to adulthood.”  “We had hoped;” the three most painful words tied to loss. 

“We had hoped to eat all the Reese’s Peanut Butter cups before the cruel sun melted them all.”  “Why do bad things happen to hungry people?”

I do not mean to make light of some of the deepest cries of the soul.  But, it is healthy to laugh when plunging into the depths of darkness and death. 

And, that is where these disciples are as they walk along the road.  They are actively plunging into the depths of darkness and death.  Their hopes have been dashed.  Their rabbi is gone.  And, on top of it all, his body is missing!  Some of his disciples who were women had said that he was alive, but when some of the disciples who were men went to look they did not see him.

They did not see him.

Funny, how that happens.  The disciples at the tomb did not see him, and neither do those disciples walking on the road with Jesus.  They do not see him.  They are wrapped up in the depths of darkness and death.  That puts them in this state of blindness where they cannot see Jesus even though he is right there talking with them.  They are too wrapped up in the questions. 

Why do bad things happen to good people?  I do not know.  Sometimes, bad things happen because simple mistakes were made, like turning the corner too quickly while driving, and forgetting to look.  Sometimes, bad things happen because there are bad people out there who do not love and do not care.  Sometimes, bad things happen because this world is broken and it is not the Garden of Eden, so bad things like cancer simply exist. 

Sometime, bad things happen because it is your fault.  Sometimes, bad things happen because it is someone else’s fault and you or a loved one are just in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Sometimes, bad things just happen and there is no good explanation.  We are creatures of an imperfect world, and in that imperfect world things just go wrong for no heavenly reason.  And, in rare cases bad things happen because God has something better in store.

No matter the reason for the bad thing, all of these bad things can send us into the depths of darkness and despair, even when God has done it to clear space for something even better.  Any bad thing can cause us to be blind to Jesus walking with us.

But, Jesus is there.  Jesus chooses to show up just as these two disciples fall into the depths of despair.  Jesus does not forget them. 

The Bible says that Jesus takes the time while they walk to explain all of the things about the Messiah…about himself…starting in the first books of Moses, extending through the prophets. 

As a Bible nerd, I would have loved to know which scriptures to which Jesus pointed.  Did he mention how the snake’s head would be crushed by the seed of the woman in Genesis 3:11?  Did he talk about the suffering servant who willingly bears the sins of humanity found in Isaiah 53?  Or, how about Micah 5:2, which talks about how the Messiah is to be born in Bethlehem and how he is that one? 

As much as I love a good Bible study, notice that the disciples who love him and know him still do not see him, even though their hearts burn hearing the words.

That actually makes a lot of sense to me.  It does not matter how many Bible verses I use to help someone answer the question, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” the Bible verses are fascinating, but they never seem to help.  And, if Jesus could not pull it off, why would I ever think that I would be able to pull it off. 

After years and years of thinking about why the Bible verses do not have the impact that I would hope, I think I now understand the problem.  The question is not an academic one.  When someone asks, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” they are not looking to read a religion paper, even if the paper impresses a wise college professor. 

In fact, when they ask, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” most of the time people are really saying, “I miss them.”  And, the only thing that can possibly help with “I miss them” is for the one they have lost to actually be there.  Not only that, they also need to actually see that the one they lost is present.

Jesus is there, but these disciples cannot actually see him. 

It is not until they sit at the table and break the bread with Jesus that they finally see Jesus.  He was present with them all along, but the Bible says that it is at the table and in the breaking of the bread where they finally see him, raised from the dead.  Jesus was with them all day.  They just needed to eat at the table to see.

And, so we also eat regularly at the Lord ’s Table, to remind ourselves that he is with us.  We eat to remind ourselves that we are alive with him, forever.  We eat to remember that tables are places where we gather with those we love.  We eat to remember that our table is just a part of the great table in heaven where all the saints throughout all eternity gather to eat together with the one who brings us all to the table, Jesus Christ. 

Children eat with parents who are now with Jesus eternally.  Grandparents eat with the grandchild who is now with Jesus, though the grandchild will never know what it is to be an adult.  Newly married couples eat with their great, great grandchildren, who they will never have a chance to meet in this life.  Enemies eat together, right next to each other, in love and peace. 

It is at the table where we see the Lord.  It is at the table where we experience the Lord’s love and grace.  And, it is at the table where we connect with all those we love, past, present, and future.  It is the place where we feast together with all members of the body of Christ throughout all eternity.  It is so good to be reminded of that regularly.

When I was in the pit of despair, a wise pastor suggested something to me that I now give to you.  When you are in the depths of grief and despair, make a space at the table for Jesus and a space for the loved one you miss.  Set the table for them.  Literally, set the table.  Get out plates, glasses, silverware, and napkins.  Or, if your are feasting at the Lord’s table in church, leave a space right next to you for your loved one, because, by the power of Jesus’ resurrection, both Jesus and the one you love are there.  They are present.  In the breaking of the bread we see them.  In the breaking of the bread we are there with them, and they with us.  In the breaking of the bread we see that death does not win and fear cannot take hold.

“When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread” (Luke 24: 30-35).

At the table, we find Jesus.  At the table we find hope.

Reflection on John 20:19-31

 

There is so much that is surprising about Jesus’ resurrection appearance to his disciples, who remain shut away from the world out of fear. 

Jesus appears despite the doors being locked. 

Jesus breathes on them the Holy Spirit. 

Jesus gives them the ability to forgive sins, a job relegated to God alone previously. 

But, of all of the surprises, the one that caught me and stopped me dead in my tracks was Jesus showing his healed wounds to his disciples. 

Though we have seen countless images of Jesus showing his wounds to Thomas in art throughout the years, and heard the story countless times, it struck me just how utterly disgusting this is.  I cannot tell you the number of times that people have said to me, “Pastor, do you want to see my wounds?”  And, I politely reply, “It is fine with me if you just describe it, really it is fine.”  And, then they raise the pant leg or lift the shirt anyway!  We do not need to see it in order to pray for it.  And, I imagine that this scene with Jesus could come across the same way.  Thomas wanted to see the scars, but no one else in the room signed up for this show. 

Obviously, some people like to show off their scars, but I think the majority of us prefer to hide them.  They are disgusting, and we are ashamed. 

How many of us share our deepest wounds with others?  How many of us share the time we were on the point of suicide; or share the time when we were out of control on a substance; or share the time we acted recklessly in the car; or share the time we were out of control, anger dripping from our lips at our children, and they were afraid; or share the time we hurt ourselves instead of healing ourselves?

You see what I mean?  In shame, we hide our wounds.  In shame we hide our failures. 

I knew of a woman who was an outstanding citizen within her community.  She was the model soccer mom, she served on the school board, she threw the kids a yearly end of school party, she was at all the games, she was a super mom.  The one weird thing about her was that she always wore these stylish long sleeved shirts.  It could be one hundred degrees out, and she would still wear these flowing, long sleeved shirts. 

One day while putting away some supplies overhead at her church, one of the sleeves exposed her arm and for a brief moment, one of the church members saw on her arms the distinct scars left from substance abuse.  The church member said nothing, so as not to embarrass her.  We hide our scars.

But, here is the thing, in hiding those scars, in hiding those failures, we also hide the healing that Jesus gave us.  A scar, after-all, is a healed wound.  But, too often, the shame of the scar is just too great.

Do you want to hear something shameful?  How about the government putting you to death in a very public way on a cross, with your clothes stripped from you, while leaders of the community spit at you and taunt you; as passersby going into town gawk at your exposed body? 

People do not parade wounds like that.  I have not even shared with anyone the one time during my entire elementary school career that I accidentally soiled my pants on the bus.  I tried to hold it, I really did, but our bus ride was 45 minutes long.  It was shameful.  It left a small scar.  You are the only people to hear about it.  You might be saying, “I didn’t ask to hear it!”  We hide our shame.  We hide our embarrassment.  We hide our scars.  Yet the Bible says this about Jesus appearance to his closest followers: 

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side.

And again, a week after Thomas shouts out “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.” the Bible tells us: 

Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.”

It seems that for Jesus there is no shame in wounds; quite the opposite.  Somehow, sharing his deeply shaming wounds with others brings along with it peace and healing.  And, in my experience anyway, we all need that sort of healing.

Remember that church member who saw the scars on the arm of that upstanding woman, revealing a past of substance abuse?  It must have been God’s work that the sleeve exposed her arm that day, because months later that same church member opened the front door to find a granddaughter standing there.  She looked terrible.  The granddaughter said she had nowhere to go.  She had no bridges that she had not burned.  The church member looked at her arms, and the same wounds were on the granddaughter’s arms, except these were fresh.

The church member took in her granddaughter, but agonized day and night over her as the granddaughter struggled to keep clean, struggled to keep a job, struggled to tell the truth, and finally struggled with the will to live.

The church member kept coming back to those hidden scars on the arms of that upstanding woman in the community.  The church member invited the woman over for dinner.

It was an awkward meal.  The church member and the woman talked about church matters, all while the granddaughter slumped on her side of the table, eating in silence.  But, it was not long before the upstanding woman saw the wounds on the granddaughter’s arms.  The church member saw when it happened.  At first it was a quick glance while they were talking, then it became a real look as the realization sank in of what she was seeing.  You could tell the upstanding woman was considering something.  Finally, the woman turned her body toward the granddaughter and said, “I recognize those.”  Then she pulled up her sleeve, revealing her own scars.  “It does get better, dear.  God can heal those wounds.  Look, God healed mine.  Life does get better.”

The upstanding woman did exactly what her savior had done, she exposed her healed wounds.  She showed her wounds and pointed a way beyond the shame to healing.  Years before, Jesus breathed the Holy Spirit of forgiveness upon her, healing her, and now she revealed those wounds of healing and hope to this girl who desperately needed to see.

Jesus said, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.”

In Jesus’ kingdom, scars are not disgusting.  In Jesus’ kingdom, scars give hope.  They bring belief.  They are proof that Jesus still heals and still gives new life.  Just look at his hands.  Just look at Jesus’ scars and see that he is the Lord who can overcome all.  Just look at his hands.

Just look at your hands.  Everyone’s hands look different.  Some hold the greasy stains of hard work and daily struggle.  Some hold the healed wounds that come from broken bottles.  Some hold the healing photo of the one who died.  Some hold the healed wounds of disagreement and hard-heartedness.  Some hold the dark, healed bruises of abuse.  Everyone’s hands look different, and everyone’s hands hold scars. 

But, what the Bible is trying to preach to us is that Jesus did not put his hands in his pockets.  He did not buy designer gloves to cover them up.  Instead, Jesus chose to show up in that fear stricken room where the disciples were frozen in fear, he stretched forth his hands, and he intentionally showed his healed scars to the scared and disoriented disciples. 

The message that we desperately need to hear is not that our imperfections are something shameful, to be hidden so as not to entice death.  Rather, we need to hear the message that in Jesus Christ wounds are overcome. 

Death does not get to win the day.  Shame does not get to control one’s world.  Rather, the good news of Jesus Christ is that our shame is healed and overcome in his death and resurrection.  The scars become a part of who we are, just as they became a part of Jesus’ saving work.  The healing that Jesus brings us becomes a vital part of our faith story. 

“Jesus said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.’ Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’” 

Do you not you see?  Thomas can believe because he sees the healed wounds.  How many people feel alone in their struggles all because they have never been shown the healed wounds that Jesus provides?  How many people are stuck in the past, staring at gaping wounds that could have been healed long ago had someone shared their own healed wounds with us? 

Your wounds are a part of your story.  It is OK.  Nobody’s story is perfect.  We are humans.  We are not gods.  And the scars that prove you have been healed are what make you a part of Jesus’ story of redemption.  Jesus has brought you healing.  Jesus has made you whole.  Jesus has redeemed you from sin and death.  The scars prove it.

So, do not fear showing those healed scars.  You never know who Jesus will bring your way, whose wounds are still bleeding and in need of healing.  You never know who Jesus will bring your way so that they can hear the good news of new life and second chances through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ our Lord.

Reflection on Matthew 28:1-10

Early on in Matthew's gospel Jesus tells his followers:

“Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give a stone?

(Matthew 7:7-9)

Keep that in mind: searching and finding, doors opened, and bread instead of stones, because near the end of Matthew we see Mary Magdalene and the other Mary searching the tomb, the door of the tomb being opened by an angel through the power of an earthquake, and finally the two women finding Jesus, the bread of life, instead of a stone.  “For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.”

“I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised,” the angel declares to the amazed women (Matthew 28:5-6).  Jesus Christ is not dead, but alive!  He has been raised from the dead and he has gone ahead of you!  Alleluia, Christ is risen!  Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia!

And, when the women run to tell the disciples all that the angel had said, they have to stop in their tracks because they find that Jesus is right there!  He meets them right there on the road.  “Everyone who searches finds.”  And, seeing their Lord alive, seeing the Lord who has overcome sin and death, seeing the risen Jesus with their own eyes fills them with great joy.  They are filled with so much joy that they simply drop in front of Jesus and worship at his feet.  There is so much joy to be shared over his resurrection.  There is so much joy to be had when new life springs up from dark and dead tombs.  There is so much joy found in our Lord Jesus.

And, we have joy in abundance today!  Our songs are filled with joy!  Our readings are packed full of joy!  The kid’s excitement over Easter has so much joy that it can barely be contained!  And, the promise of life eternal in the eyes of those for whom the prospect of death lingers ever more near sparkles with a deep eternal joy that can only be understood by those who know the reality of death and tombs.

I am right there with you this morning.  I am right there having known the joys of new life and new birth.  I am right there with you, celebrating this promise that death does not get the last word.  I am right there with you in celebrating with some unbridled joy!

But, I am also with those women who fall at Jesus’ feet, because they not only have joy, but they also have fear.

It is easy to miss with all the earthquakes, angels, celebrations, and worship, but it is there.  Just after the angel delivers the good news the Bible says that the women, “left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy” (Matthew 28:8).

I do not think that most of us fully get, or properly understand, that fear is almost always mixed in with joy when something new is taking place. 

Take the birth of a first child.  When you hear those first cries of life, those first breaths from the child, you cannot help but break down in tears of relief and joy and fear.  Because, as you take the child into your arms, it finally sinks in that everything is now different.  Everything is new.  And, how do you raise a little one anyway?  What do you do if they do not stop crying?  The cry that just delivered tears of joy now delivers tears of panic and fear.  You look around the room for help!  The prospect of new life is at the same time filled with joy and a profound fear.

There is nothing right or wrong about it, it just is.

Just the other day I sat with someone who is facing the end of life.  Do not worry, you do not know them.  As we sat and talked they expressed that they have come to a sense of peace and even joy that death would come and they could finally live a new life with Jesus in eternity. 

“I am actually happy about all of that,” they said with a smile.  “But…” they stated, allowing the word to linger in the air.   “But, I am still scared.  Pastor, I am scared.  How can I be joyful and scared at the same time?”

I did not know what to say other than to mention that it is just true.  It is right here is the Holy Scriptures, our source of truth.  The scriptures say that the prospect of new life, of encountering the resurrected life, is full of both fear and joy all at the same time.

People who leave their old, terrible jobs and terrible bosses for a new, better job are filled with both fear and joy, at the same time when they start their new job.  Children who are finally adopted after years of praying and waiting are filled with both fear and joy while going to live with their new parents.  Parents who prayed for a baby are filled with both fear and joy when the baby finally arrives.  People who have suffered pain so severe that they just want it all to end also fear it ending, even if the ending means great, eternal, joy.  Congregations who decide to go in a new, life giving direction are filled with both fear and joy as they venture into new territory, doing new things that they have never done before.  And, the women are filled with both fear and joy as they run to tell the others about the risen Christ.

Do you want to know how Jesus answers our mix of fear and joy when faced with all that is new?  Do you want to know how Jesus addresses the women’s fear and joy?  Jesus says, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

Jesus promises that he is there in Galilee, right where his followers are going.  Jesus promises us that he is right there, waiting ahead of us.  We do not face the future alone!  We do not need to figure it all out by ourselves.  A part of the resurrection promise is that resurrection means being with Jesus.  He is there! 

He is right there in that joyful and fearful future.  He is right there in your future where you know that what is to come will be better, but you are afraid because you do not know what you will do once you are there. 

Jesus promises that he will already be there.  He is the resurrected one.  He is the one who has gone to the other side and returned.  The resurrection promise means that Jesus is in that new place, wherever that may be.  He is at that new job.  He is in that new location.  He is in that new ministry.  He is in that new life.  And, yes, he is there waiting when the pain is finally gone and life is over.  He is there in the resurrected life.

“I am the resurrection and the life,” Jesus promises in John 11:25.  Jesus is there ahead of us.

So, do not be afraid.  Your mix of joy and fear at the prospect of something new is very, very human.  Do not be afraid, rejoice, be filled with joy!  Jesus is going ahead of you into your new life; there you will see him.