Epiphany Vestry Mini-Retreat, Winchester, Massachusetts
April 25, 2020
The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling
Companions in Hope
Encountering the Risen Christ
A Meditation on Resurrection Appearances
I
must confess that when I first received Julia’s invitation, asking me to offer
a meditation for you today, I had to give it some thought. Truth be told, like
so many people in our country, indeed around our world, I wasn’t feeling
particularly joyful. Hopeful, yes. Joyful, no. When I am living in fear, I
don’t want to talk to anybody; and I don’t want to touch anything. I’m afraid
of strangers carrying diseases, and like a thief, I wear a mask everywhere I
go.
In
the evening, in need of some laughs, Paul and I have been watching that
old-time T.V. series called Cheers. You know, that place like church, where
“everybody knows your name, and your troubles are all the same?” Except, today,
church feels like something is missing, like a Body. I feel that it needs a
Blood transfusion or plasma with antibodies; and it seems as if the air, and
all of the people, have been sucked out of the room. No, it’s not the Rapture;
it’s COVID 19.
Sheltered
in our home sanctuaries, like the disciples on that evening, on that day of the
Resurrection, we may be wondering what’s going to happen next, now that our
beloved leader is gone. The gospel stories say that Jesus suddenly appears in
the locked room, where the disciples were huddled together in fear. Initially,
maybe they backed away from Him, covering their faces and bodies with personal
protective equipment. Holding up their hands, scrubbed clean in self-defense,
and thinking that they’ve seen a ghost, they say to Jesus, “Keep your social
distance. Don’t talk to us. Don’t touch us. Just stay away.”
The
empty tomb, like the status of our churches today, is the subject of much
discussion. Inside the tomb, there was no Jesus, no Body, and no Blood. Inside
our churches, there is an emptiness that we ache to fill. We long to be
together as an embodied community, hearing the Word of God, exchanging the
peace with one another, gathering at the Table, and sharing communion with our
Lord and our God.
There
is also a great deal of talk about how we share in the Eucharist these days. Many
clergy celebrate alone, live streaming in one way or another, as people at home
watch from a distance. Some are encouraged to have bread and wine at their
tables, trusting that God’s Spirit cannot be contained. Other churches offer
communion “to go”, with drive by windows, and parking lot delivery. In Texas,
cars arrive on Sunday morning, and people sing and pray from the safety of
their vehicles. Bumper stickers say, “Honk, if you love Jesus.”
The
Eucharist is our Christian family meal, when we remember our salvation story
and the words that Jesus spoke on the night that He was handed over to
suffering and death. Take, eat, this is my Body, which is broken for you. When
Jesus was at table with Cleopas and his companion, He took bread, blessed it,
broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized
him.
Despite
the variety of ways in which we receive
the Body of Christ, today’s scripture reminds us of His four-fold actions:
Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it, and then gave it to his disciples. Has
not Jesus taken us for His own? Are we not broken now? And are we not truly
blessed? Given for the sake of others? And so we sing, “Be known to us, Lord
Jesus, in the breaking of the bread, and do not then depart; Savior abide with
us, and spread thy table in our heart.” ( hymn 343, words James Montgomery)
We
are broken, broken open, but not defeated; we are still One Body in Christ. And
we remember that “we do not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes
from the mouth of God.” (Deuteronomy 8:3) Alone or together as a community,
even if it is by Zoom, our Risen Lord is present. “Jesus is with us in this
crisis — in our quarantined homes, in the overrun hospitals, and at the press
briefings, ” the Rev. Peter Harron wrote. “We catch glimpses of him in the
grocery stores, at our online classes, and out for a run. We can be sure that
Jesus is walking alongside us, even if we don’t realize it at the time.” ( www.d365.0rg,
4/24/20)
When
Jesus joined Cleopas and the other disciple on the road to Emmaus, at first,
they didn’t recognize Him. “Imagine walking with a friend, keeping your “social
distance,” comparing notes about our current situation, when someone appears
and asks you what you’re talking about,” wrote the Rev. Peter Harron. “When you
tell him, he replies, “Corona-what-now?”
“How
do you not know this?” you ask him.
“Corona has closed restaurants and canceled schools, people are getting sick
and dying, and we’re supposed to keep our distance until it gets better!” “And
that’s how Cleopas reacts, too. He simply cannot believe that someone would
have no idea about what had just happened to Jesus.” And at first, maybe
Cleopas had no idea either. (Peter Harron www.d365.org 4/22/20)
“Why
do you look for the living among the dead,” the angels asked the women, who had
come to the tomb that Easter morning, carrying spices in their hands. “He is
not here, but has risen. Remember what he told you, while He was still in
Galilee. How he would be handed over to sinners, crucified, and on the third
day rise again?” “Jesus is not here,” the angels proclaimed to Mary Magdalene
and Mary. “He has gone ahead of you to Galilee. Go, and tell the others!”
I
have three grandchildren. Elia is three years old and living in Jamaica Plain;
while my fraternal twin grandsons, Peter and Nathaniel, live in Minnesota. A
little over a year ago, they were born prematurely, weighing in at 2 pounds and
1 pound 14 ounces respectively. They spent their first three months on ventilators
in the NICU, the newborn intensive care unit, where my daughter is one of the
attending physicians. To say we lived in fear, and on some levels still do, is
an understatement.
Today
Peter and Nathaniel tip the scales at 22 pounds and 18 pounds respectively.
They are healthy little babies, crawling, standing, and beginning to learn how
to talk and walk. They are poster children for the blessings of modern science.
They are miracle babies for people of faith. Like you and me, they are beloved
children of God. Named after the two apostles who joined Jesus on that beach in
Galilee, Peter and Nathaniel are living witnesses to the life-giving power of
God and the extraordinary efforts of their human care-givers.
Premature
babies are almost always challenged with respiratory health, and are especially
vulnerable to viruses and the flu, and so Peter and Nathaniel have been
quarantined for over a year now, their parents protecting them from those
invisible germs that could hospitalize them, re-intubate them, and potentially
kill them. As they’ve grown in stature, they love to stand and look out their
windows. Out there, they see new things. Out there, they see life beyond their
bubble. Out there they see people walking on the road to Emmaus. Through their
eyes, and the eyes of my heart enlightened by faith, I see things differently,
or maybe for the first time.
Part
of the benefit of these quarantined times is an increased ability to slow down
and breathe, to look at life, and those empty places and sacred spaces with new
eyes. Like the twins, I look out my window at the beauty of God's creation.
Quarantined at home, I have time to pray. I invite Jesus into my heart, asking
Him to stay with me, just for a little while. As I walk on my road to Emmaus, I
talk to Him. I listen to Him and I look for signs of new life. I acknowledge my
fellow-pilgrims with a nod and a wave. No words are necessary; we know that
we’re all on the same journey.
There
was a recent story of a woman who had never left her home in east Germany and
was invited by a friend to visit the coast of Wales. As she traveled there by
car, she couldn’t stop talking about all the new things that she was seeing.
Like Peter and Nathaniel, staring out the window of her car, she was fascinated
by the world beyond her tiny, enclosed shelter. When she finally arrived on the
coast, when she saw the ocean for the first time, she fell silent. She
whispered to her friend, “Oh my God, it is so very large, and I am so very
small.”
We
are swimming in an ocean of God’s love even now; and our four gospel stories
tell us that the Risen Lord was seen by many people, at different times, and in
various places. The sequence of events cannot be worked out. The Risen Lord
will not be synced in our timelines nor contained by our human efforts or
stubborn wills. Each account is a separate summary of early Christian testimony
to the fact of Jesus’ resurrection.” (p45 New Oxford Annotated Bible)
Jesus
was seen by people, not in a vacant church or an empty tomb, but out there,
beyond their bubble. The Risen Lord was seen in the neighborhood, in the
garden, and in a locked room. Walking away from the events in Jerusalem, He
shows up on the road as a companion in hope. And when the gang finally went
back to their fishing on the Sea of Galilee, they found Jesus on the shore.
These
days we may have no toilet paper, but the disciples had no fish; so the Risen
Lord told them to cast their nets onto the other side of the boat. When the
nets were full, almost to breaking, it was then that the beloved disciple
recognized Jesus. Bold, impulsive, and risk-taking Peter jumped into the
waters, and swam ashore, where Jesus greeted him, fed him, and asked him, “Do
you love me?” Perhaps a little too quickly, which is why Jesus made him repeat
his answer 3 times, Peter said, “Yes, of course I do!” “Then feed my sheep,”
Jesus replied. “Tend my flock. Love others as I have loved you.”
In
some ways, the Risen Christ is like COVID 19. Like God’s amazing grace, they
show up unexpectedly, often unrecognizable at first. They cross barriers that
would halt any human being. But the Risen Lord is different from COVID 19. One
brings new life, and the other potential death. COVID 19 can kill, while Jesus
gives us eternal life. As our companion on the Way, He knows our longest days
and our darkest nights; and so He reassures us. “Be at peace.” Then He breathes
that steroid mist into our lungs, inflating them with the Holy Spirit; and we
begin to breathe faithfully, hopefully, and joyfully once again.
When
the Risen Lord steps into our rooms or climbs into our boats, when He appears
in our gardens or joins us on the road, our winds of fear will cease. Our
troubled waters will become calm. “All authority in heaven and on earth has
been given to me,” Jesus assured His disciples, and “I will never forsake you
nor abandon you. So stay in Jerusalem, until you have been clothed with power
from on high.” It is the power of Pentecost, that will come with gale force
winds, and blow across all nations and all people.
“Breathe
and receive the Holy Spirit,” our Risen Lord tells us. “We are companions in
hope on a journey that will never end. So, go and tell other people the good
news. “I am going ahead of you, and you will find me there. In my Father’s
house, there are many rooms, and I will have prepared a place for you there.
And remember, there are no vaccines to prevent you from catching the Holy
Spirit.”
Encounter
the Risen Lord today. Ask Him to stay, and invite Him into your room, and be at
peace.
May God bless you and keep you.
May God make God’s face to shine upon you and be
gracious to you.
May God lift up God’s
countenance upon you and give you peace.
