“Unbelievable!”
“Unbelievable”
Luke 24.36b-48
Luke 24.36b-48
In the name of the Living God and the risen Christ. Amen.
The first word our Lord speaks to them is “peace.” More than the standard Hebrew greeting “Shalom,” Jesus had good reason to calm and quiet their souls. The events of the past few days had filled them with fear. Physical fear—those who had killed Jesus surely would be coming after them. This is why St. John’s witness to this same event emphasizes that “the doors were locked for fear…” (John 20.19)
They’re also emotionally unsettled. One of their own has betrayed the cause. Another, the boldest among them, cowered in fear before a servant girl and swore to God he never knew Jesus. They all scattered and fled, so we might imagine the emotions of suspicion or even resentment arose among them.
On top of this, their friend and teacher was brutally betrayed and killed. Death affects all of us differently, but there’s no doubt that the graphic nature of Jesus’ death shook them to the core. Crucifixion was about the worst form of execution possible in the ancient world, and to know that someone you love has just gone through that—I can’t imagine what they must have been feeling.
Then there’s just the plain surprise factor. Boo! Whoop! There he is! Right in front of them. Right through those locked doors. They’ve just been hearing from the two Emmaus disciples about their eyes being opened to see Jesus. Mary and the other women ran to them from the empty tomb. Peter and John also, out of breath and perhaps out of their minds have likewise told of what they witnessed. Amid all of this, there is Jesus, now standing right before them.
It's no wonder, then, that the first word he speaks is “Peace!” I imagine no more perfectly appropriate word could be spoken. Jesus speaks peace into their multi-faceted fears.
And it’s also no wonder that he makes clear to them his physical, real presence. This is the real deal Jesus standing before them. He shows them his scars, invites them to grasp, eats in front of them. No ghost, no specter of the mind or figment of fantastical fiction is this Lord, but the one who went to hell and back for them. The reality of a real death could only be trumped by the reality of the real, living Jesus.
Their response to this peace is, well, as the young people like to say, “it’s complicated.” (Apparently, you can actually list that on your relationship status on social media: “It’s complicated.” That would have been very useful back when I was in college, by the way!)
What we expect from them is simple joy and faith, when he stands physically before them, showing them his scars. If this was just a mythic story, we’d get something like this: “and they all believed and rejoiced. Amen. Show’s over. Thunderous applause. Curtain falls.”
But that’s not how real life works, is it? And St. Luke’s text takes us into the reality of their mixed emotions: it was complicated: “While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering.” Eh? The ESV translation is even more puzzling, “While they still disbelieved for joy and were marveling.” Ever have a moment like that?
It was a lot to all take in. It was “unbelievable” we might say. Or “Too good to be true.” Or “I can’t believe it!” That the peace and presence of Christ could dispel such fear, that such joy could be experienced amid such difficulties—unbelievable! True? Yes. But unbelievable? Yes.
I find this somehow comforting. We all have doubts. We all have fears. We all have questions. We’ve all said those prayers, that God would somehow just break through the locked doors and reveal Himself to us. And perhaps, like me, you wish that faith could just be simple sometimes. “I’ll just take the joy and certainty, for a while, would that be okay, God?” But we’re often still with the disciples: “While they still disbelieved for joy and were marveling.” (ESV, Luke 24.41)
St. Luke’s account is an honest moment which helps us be honest with one another and honest with God. The joy of Easter, the truth of the resurrection, the reality that this Lord Jesus really walked on the earth, really died a horrible death, and really stood before them in resurrected flesh—unbelievable. The joy we experience through knowing this great truth—well it’s also scary too, because it has great implications for our lives. The greatest. And we have times of still wondering about it, too, and what it means.
Joy amid fear. Certainty amid struggle. Life is complicated. So is faith.
That’s why we keep gathering together, here on the Lord’s Day—the first day of the week, which is the same day they gathered. That’s why we hear constantly of the forgiveness of sins, which they took to the ends of the earth—the unlocking of grace for us. That’s why we come weekly to receive his real presence—the true body and blood of the crucified one in, with, and under the bread and wine. If the curtain has fallen and the show’s over with simple joy, then we wouldn’t need to be here together, encouraging one another, reminding each other that even amid our doubts, the Lord is still here.
Jesus spoke peace into their multi-faceted fears. He does the same for us, today, too. Whatever fear it is. However complicated, busted, or broken life and faith is. The One greater than death—in all its gruesome realities—this One promises to stay with us in all things.
Come soon Lord Jesus. Amen.