Easter 2B
Texts: Acts 4:32-35; John 20:19-31
Sermon by Rev. Robert Klonowski
Faith Lutheran Church, Homewood, IL
April 11, 2021
Behind Locked Doors
Many years ago the apartment in which my wife and I were living was burglarized. Of course we installed new locks, better locks, several locks!, and of course I was struck by the irony of adding new locks after the burglary. There’s something to be said there about a horse and a barn door.
But wait! There was more irony yet!: because a police officer friend of mine told me, “You do know, Bob, that those locks are mainly for you, and not for any potential burglar? Anybody who is really serious about getting in, will get in. But,” he allowed, “if it makes you feel better, fine.” You know, those locks did make me feel better, or at least they did until my copper friend said what he said.
It occurs to me that being physically locked in is not the only way of locking yourself in. I’ve got some old habits that I keep saying I want to change, and I bet you’ve got one or two or maybe more of those about yourself, too, but the more things stay the same the more I wonder at how it is that we’re so … locked in.
And as with us personally, so it is with the big old wider world around us, as well. There are ways of this old world that need to change, too. There are ways of thinking about leadership, and about politics, and certainly God knows! How we think about race, and about poverty, and about masculinity and what it means to be a man, and about community – so many things in this old world that need to change, but it seems that instead of open to what might change, we live … locked in. In the first lesson this morning from the Book of Acts there is this marvelous vision from the very first days of the early Church about holding all things in common, sharing from each according to ability, and sharing to each according to need. And you know this was the earliest days of the Church, because you know it didn’t take long for the powers of this world – the old Jerusalem all around! – and the powers of us Church people ourselves, to lock down on that vision! Why, you start doing stuff like that and the next thing you know we’re going to wind up with socialized medicine or something, something that might provide quality health care to each according to need. Socialism! We’ll have none of that new Kingdom of God stuff they were preaching, around here! We’d rather live locked in to the old ways of this old world. Old things die hard, they say, but I’m saying that old things that need to die, sometimes don’t. They stay locked in.
So I note that there are some ways in which the world stays locked in, but there are some ways in which we lock ourselves off from the Gospel, too. There are some ways in which we don’t need any Jerusalem old guard to stop us; we stop ourselves every time we fail to address injustice. Or every time we give up on ourselves, give in to the despair which has been threatening us for over a year now. And we stop ourselves; every time we take the easy, go-along-to-get-along way instead of the hard way that will introduce the new Kingdom. And as you hear yourself thinking about taking the easier way, and not taking your faith to the hard places, the other thing you hear is that clicking sound, one deadbolt lock after another clicking home, clicking shut, as you do your best to lock yourself away from whatever it is out there that scares you.
Which brings us to the Gospel for today. It is no small matter that those who have closed the door and locked the locks in the Gospel story are Jesus’ own disciples. This one is not a story about all the ways the world locks its doors against the claims of the Christian faith. This is a story about the way that those of us who are Christians lock our own doors. And in locking our doors out of fear of the world and what it might do to us, the irony is that the disciples have locked their doors to Jesus, and what He might do to us. The irony of the Gospel today is that it is not the soldiers of Caesar who were trying to break into that room and get to the disciples, nor was it the Judean authorities, nor the crowds of unbelievers to mock them. Not this time! No; in this story it is Jesus who is out there, trying to get in to the disciples. But wait! There’s more irony yet! Because Jesus was trying to get to them – why? … in order to bless them; in order to give them peace; in order to offer them forgiveness, and empower them with the gift of the Holy Spirit.
The point of the story is that our securely locked doors are not a problem for Jesus. We try to lock him out when we keep our faith safely tucked away within ourselves, rather than out in the world where we work and spend so much of our lives.
And right now you’re waiting for me to end this sermon with an exhortation for you to unlock your door! Throw wide the portals of your heart! Let Jesus into your life!
That ain’t gonna happen. That wouldn’t be faithful to this story, or to the Easter message itself. No, the sermon ends not with a moralistic exhortation but with a promise, just as the Gospel itself always ends up, not with moralistic exhortation, but with promise. Here is the good news: The risen Christ was not stumped by the locked doors behind which the disciples cowered, and just so I promise you that the risen Christ will not be deterred by any locks that you have put on your doors. He won’t. If there’s anything we learned back there when we walked through Holy Week – the Passion of Our Lord and Good Friday and the day of the Resurrection – it is that our God is wonderfully resourceful, imaginative, persistent, and utterly determined to have us. Those of you who are church veterans have no doubt noticed that the appointed Gospel lesson for the Second Sunday of Easter, every single year!, is this story about the disciples in the locked room. It makes me cranky because at this point in my career I’m tired of preaching on Doubting Thomas year after year. But the reason this lesson is always appointed for the very next Sunday of Easter, I think, is to remind us that even in our doubt, even with all the locks we put on the door, the first thing that the Risen Christ does at Easter – every single time – is … He comes out to get us. It appears to be the first thing on his “Risen Things I Got To Do” list. He comes out to get us.
He came out of the tomb, and I believe the reason he came out was to come out to get you. There is no sure defense against Jesus. One thing you have got to know about the guy for sure – the man just keeps showing up! There is no way to secure yourself against his intrusions into your life. Ain’t no lock gonna work for you there. It’s just like my copper friend told me all those years ago: Somebody who really wants to get in … is gonna get in!