Sunday, May 3, 2020

Fourth Sunday of Easter - Jubilate

1 Peter 2:11–20
St. John 16:16–22


In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

A little while, and you will see Me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see Me. What did Jesus mean? The disciples didn’t understand. But you do… because you’ve seen past those dark moments with Jesus leading His disciples out to the Garden of Gethsemane, where in just a little while, He would be arrested, and most of them would see Him no more. You know what happens next. In a little while, the very next day, Jesus was executed, taken from their sight, they thought, forever. Then again a little while, only three days later, He rose from the dead. But in between, in the little while of those dark and sad three days while He lay dead in the tomb, the disciples could do nothing but weep, doubt, suffer, and despair.

We know the whole story, which means we know that Jesus lives. And yet, still we cannot see Him. We know by faith in the Scriptures that He is not dead, but so often it doesn’t feel like that. We can’t see Him, and sometimes things can get so bad that we feel as though He might as well be dead. There is still a lot of weeping for us in the little while of this difficult life. Still a lot of doubt, suffering, and despair.

This has not turned out to be the Spring of 2020 that we hoped for. This was not the Easter celebration that we had looked forward to. This was not the Confirmation weekend we had planned. There is suffering and weeping in our lives—some big things, others small things—but still, plenty of it, including suffering from sickness or from fear of sickness.

Many have asked and some have tried to answer the question: why did this happen? Or why did God let this happen? And it would be very easy to follow those questions into doubt and despair; like the disciples who asked what does this mean, and couldn’t understand, and then teetered on the edge of unbelief while Jesus was taken from their sight. We could fall that way too, if we try to make sense of things based on our science or our feelings or our opinions.

And besides the suffering and worrying caused by Covid–19, Christians still have the suffering they endure at the hands of this unbelieving world. Life is not exactly easy for anyone, but then you pile on top of that what it means to follow Christ, and Christians have tough choices to make. Do they get involved in more extracurriculars and community projects, or do they make sure they can be in church every week? Do they work for a comfortable and fun life first, or do they tithe to God and their church? Do they bow down and submit to the governing authorities when they challenge the one true God, or do they face martyrdom? 

There’s a spectrum there to be sure, and not all Christians around the world face the same degree of suffering for the faith. But there’s got to be at least some degree. Jesus says you must take up your cross and follow Him, and you know what happens to people on crosses. Jesus says you will weep and lament but the world will rejoice. The unchristian powers and forces in the world are opposed to Christ and His followers, and if we’re never feeling that opposition, then it’s pretty likely we are in league with them and working against Christ.

So there are all kinds of reasons for Christians to be weeping and suffering, even while we know that Jesus lives. This is why St. Peter calls us sojourners and exiles—because this world is not where we truly belong, not our lasting home. We live here, and yet we are passing through, going on to a better country. And so we Christians look different from the rest of the world. Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation… For this is the will of God, that by doing good you should put to silence the ignorance of foolish people. Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God. 

Live like you actually believe what the Bible says. Do it, and the heads will turn. They’ll say, “Look at those Christians, they’re strange. They love one another like nobody else knows how to love. And they forgive people with no conditions. They take care of one another, including the poor, and the weak, and the ones we think are worthless. And they don’t judge people and demand vengeance like everyone else. They don’t go along with the crowd. And they hold themselves to this ridiculously high standard. Plus they aren’t afraid of anything, not sickness or death or rumors. They actually believe that guy Jesus rose from the dead. Incredible! Crazy.”

Sometimes the world might praise you, when they like what you’re doing and saying. Other times they’ll denounce you. But make no doubt about it, if you’re living like a Christian, they’ll notice. And somewhere along the line, you’ll suffer for it. But everyone suffers, so instead of suffering while living just like everybody else, why not suffer while living like God, and with God, and for God. Suffer while doing good. Live as people who are free—free from the slavery of this world, free from the fear of this world, even free from suffering—not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil—not as an excuse to do whatever you want—but living as servants of God

And why live like that? If it’s so tough, why bother? Because the Christian life is not all suffering and sorrow. Jesus lives. Nothing, no person or force or opinion in this world, can stop Him from living. Again a little while, and you will see Me, Jesus told His disciples. He rose again and they saw Him as He truly is. You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy.

Joy can look a lot like happiness, but they’re not exactly the same thing. Happiness can be a static thing, or least something we’ve come to expect to be our baseline. We never want to be less than happy, and all it takes is a bump in the road to ruin what we call happiness. But joy is something much less fragile and much more life-changing. Joy is when sorrow has been changed into gladness. Joy is really the change itself, the swing from despair to hope. It’s the resurrection from death to life.

When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. I suppose many of the mothers listening to this passage have wondered, “Really Jesus, you think we forget that pain?” Of course, He doesn’t mean it’s entirely wiped from your memory. But something’s changed, right? The pain is not the mother’s focus anymore. Now, she only has eyes for her baby.

So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you. Joy is the surprise, the unexpected fantastic reversal. Joy comes when sadness is touched and healed by God’s grace in the risen Jesus.

So, from Easter onwards, our joys cannot be taken from us, although they are mixed with sadness. They are not lost, but only hidden away. The joys we have and keep as Christians are hidden under the cross. By faith, they are hidden with Jesus in heaven. And notice how Jesus changes the bit at the end. He doesn’t say one more time that they will see Him, but He says, I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you. You do not see Him, yet. But, He is risen nevertheless, and He sees you, and He is still giving you joy, hidden joys. He is slowly changing all your sorrows into His eternal joy. He changes things by touching your life with His holy absolution—your sins are forgiven. He changes things by touching you with His holy body and blood—you’re new, free, alive. All the joys we are given now in this life, even in the midst of weeping and suffering, they can never be taken from us. They’re only being hidden away, and stored up, for the fullness of joy to come.

Alleluia! Christ is risen.
He is risen indeed. Alleluia!

In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.