John 20:19-23 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. "Peace be with you",
he said, and then showed them his hands and his side. So when the
disciples saw the Lord, they were filled with joy. Jesus repeated,
"Peace be with you", and said, "As the Father sent me, so I send
you." Then he breathed on them, saying, "Receive the Holy Spirit.
If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain
the sins of any, they are retained."
This scene is not hard to imagine,
not hard to feel, not difficult to conjure up in our own minds.
It makes sense that the men and women who are the followers of the
man Jesus are spending their days and nights behind locked doors,
fearing for their lives, scared to make a move, clinging to each
other for solace and comfort. They have been witness to the cruel
trial and brutal death of their friend and teacher, and quite honestly
they fear they might be next - after all they had been very closely
associated with Jesus, helped him in his work, traveled with him,
slept and ate with him. Scripture tells us they were afraid of the
Jews. The disciples themselves are Jews. These are their own brothers
and sisters they are afraid of. What one can be accused of, all
may be found guilty of.
Now imagine for a moment that the
very person you believe is dead, you have seen him die, you are
grieving for his death, shows up. Locked doors do not seem to be
able to keep him out. If I am in the room, I can't help feeling
that I would be afraid of Jesus himself. Is he angry with me for
leaving him helpless and at the mercy of those who wanted to kill
him? Did he notice that I could not stay awake and watch with him
for just one hour? Was he aware that I hid myself from the authorities
and could not bring myself to speak up on his behalf? And now here
he is standing before me, us. We are unable to hide ourselves from
his gaze and we fear the hurt we may see in his tender eyes.
And then he speaks. "Peace be with
you", he says. With four simple words we know we are forgiven. What
we have done or not done is forgotten, forgiven. He forgives them
and us. Forgiveness for our past mistakes.
And then he speaks again. "Peace be
with you," he says and this time it is a blessing. A blessing on
our future. "As the Father has sent me, so I send you. What I have
offered, you will offer. The love you have come to know, you will
share. The forgiveness you feel, you will pass on. Where you see
pain and hopelessness, you will offer healing and promise."
I imagine the whole room stunned into
a kind of relieved and excited silence, when Jesus then 'breathes
on them'. What does that mean? What does he actually do here? This,
I believe, is the divine sigh. Jesus exhaling in a moment of love
and relief, in a moment of blessing and forgiveness, in a moment
of presence and utter relaxation. A huge sigh, that without even
knowing it is breathed in by everyone in the room. A sharing of
divine breath whether you wanted to or not, just because you are
in the room and breathing the air. Jesus just asks them to be aware
of it. "Receive it," he says, "I just gave it to you. You are at
this very moment breathing it in - it is the Holy Spirit - and it
is yours, whether you know it or not. I just wanted you to know
it. Receive it!"
What happened to those men and women?
They believed him. They took a deep breath and maybe for the first
time in their lives they were aware of pulling the divine towards
themselves, into themselves. It may have been in that moment they
felt that maybe they could and would do good and loving things.
In that moment they felt the reality of God's promise and hope for
all creation and knew they had some part in it. Connected in a new
and profound way, they just felt they were God's own children, God's
own beloved, part of creation and the divine breath from the beginning.
Only moments before they were frightened
and confused. They believed they knew how the world worked, how
things were; they believed they knew what was coming next. They
did not believe God could or would do a new thing in their life.
It was one thing to believe in God and to some extent believe in
that man from Nazareth, but believe a Holy Spirit was present to
sustain and guide in the moment, the here and now? No. Forgiveness
for the past, blessing for the future and now the Holy Spirit for
the present? This is such a gift.
When God was about the business of
creating creation, God breathed into it endless and wonderful possibilities;
hope and promise and fullness of life for each and every one of
us. Our past is forgiven and our future is already blessed. So,
do we believe God can do a new thing in our lives in the here and
now, today, this hour? That is the reality of the gift of the Holy
Spirit, for our lives where we live - in the present moment. Breathing
in the divine sigh has the power to change our lives. Jesus tells
us that we have only to receive it, to know it.
Trinity Episcopal Church