They were sheltered-in-place and doing the safest thing they could: staying home. Their whole world had been turned upside down in a matter of days. Life as they knew it was forever changed and what once seemed unshakeable was suddenly uncertain. Recent events were hard to believe and even harder to watch. News of death was overwhelming and their own lives were at risk. Confused and afraid, they sought refuge in the place where they felt safe: a warm and welcoming home. At home, they were protected from the chaos swirling on the other side of the door.
I wonder if this sounds familiar to you?
Does it sound like you?
It sounds like me these days.
It sounds like my loved ones, my family and friends near and far. From my college friend doing COVID triage via telehealth in New York City, to my seminary friend hunkered down by herself in an apartment in Jackson, Mississippi. From my extended family all across our great state, to the members of our church family all across Chatham County.
It sounds like all of us: hunkered down, seeking shelter, staying home, doing our part to flatten the curve, and trying to make sense of this new reality in which we live these days. Even as people of faith, the news is overwhelming, the danger feels real, and all of it is hard to comprehend.
The good news is: it sounds like Easter, too.
The first Easter all those years ago, where the faithful followers of Jesus were hunkered down at home.
As a pastor, Easter is one of the most magnificent days of the year for me. In worship every Easter I’m frequently drawn to the familiar parts of the story: the garden and the tomb and stone rolled away, the risen Savior who apparently looks a lot like a gardener. Every year, I rejoice in the opportunity to tell the old, old story of brave and faithful women who went to the tomb early on the third day, found it empty, and went to tell the good news.
This year, though, I find myself drawn to the other side of the Easter story: the part of the story we usually hear the Sunday after Easter, when most everybody is on vacation.
It’s the part of the Easter story that tells us: for three days, most of the disciples sought shelter together in someone’s home.
John’s Gospel describes it this way: “The disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear.”
And who could blame them? They had been on a week-long rollercoaster with Jesus.
They had come to Jerusalem with Jesus for the biggest festival of the year, they were greeted with shouts of praise as Jesus rode into town on a donkey. Then in a matter of days, their friend and teacher had been arrested, beaten, tortured and crucified.
The man for whom they had left everything behind to follow was gone and their own lives were at risk for having followed him. They were confused and afraid, so they did the safest thing they could: stay at home.
I find some comfort in knowing that these unprecedented days we’re living through right now are really nothing new in the story of God’s great love for the world. Like the disciples on that Easter morning long ago, we too are facing uncertainty, grief and fear in this Easter season. And like the disciples on that Easter morning long ago, we will surely encounter the love of God in our risen Savior.
While they were sheltered together at home, the disciples found themselves suddenly in the presence of the resurrected Jesus. John’s Gospel says, “with the doors locked for fear… Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you!’ After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.”
What a mighty God we serve, who not only sent Jesus to be born in the humility of a stable, but lived this life we live and wore this flesh we wear. With love, he took the form of a servant and humbled himself to the point of death, even death on a cross. With the same life-giving power that brought forth life on the earth, God brought forth life in the tomb, raising Jesus from the dead and conquering the grave forever. What a powerful Savior we serve, who not only transcends our locked doors, but walks right into our places of fear and grief and uncertainty and offers us His peace: “Peace be with you!” Proving his triumph over death, he shows us his hands and side that bear the wounds he endured for our sake and reminds us that there is no pain or suffering we face that he has not known.
Like the disciples, may our fear give way to joy in our homes this Easter Season. May we be reminded of God’s great love poured out for us in Jesus Christ. May the sight of empty churches this Easter Sunday be nothing to fear, for it’s in the emptiness of a tomb that God has done the most magnificent work of all.
For as the story goes…the risen Jesus is likely to show up in our home this Easter…
The Rev. Sara Beth Pannell is pastor of Pittsboro United Methodist Church.