Eagle Harbor Congregational Church, United Church of Christ                       

 May 1, 2011

Sermon preached by Rev. Emily Tanis-Likkel                                            

John 20:19-31

Emerging from Hiding

Lock the door! Hushed voices, muffled sobs. Fearful glances toward the door. Were you here when Mary from Magdala came this morning? Crazy lady, shaking their heads. Shhh. You’re too loud--you want to get us killed? What’s stopping them from getting us? They know we followed him, they know that we’ve given up everything for him. Then suddenly, there he was. There was Jesus, saying “Peace be with you.” He showed them his wounds. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” He breathed on them, saying, “Receive the Holy Spirit. Forgive each other.”

John’s version of the Pentecost story, of the Holy Spirit coming in a palpable way, places the event on Easter evening. I was struck when imagining the story this time around, of the image of the disciples having locked themselves in.

I can resonate with that feeling, can imagine myself hunched in a corner, maybe hidden myself away in a secret room, so that if the authorities came in, they wouldn’t find me. But I’ve never been in this situation. I’ve never had to hide from people who posed a real threat as so many have. I’ve been haunted by Corrie ten Boom’s The Hiding Place since I read it as a young girl.  I’ve taken the tour through the Anne Frank house in Amsterdam, walking through the false wall, looking out the window that Anne could only see at night. I’ve imagined the horror, the boredom, the fear.

The closest I’ve come to that feeling of hiding, though, is in my dreams. I have been hidden away in a locked room a multitude of times in my dreams.  In these dreams I don’t trust the lock, so also hide in a closet or cupboard for fear of being attacked. Houses in dreams often represent the self, with different rooms representing different aspects of our personalities. It’s a common theme in dream-life, with the room we are hiding in representing a part of ourselves that we are trying to protect.  Dream interpretation is often less about the story-line, and much more about the emotion.  

Hiding in a room often signifies emotionally running from certain thoughts or situations. Fear is debilitating. Sometimes it prompts us to lash out, be defensive, to not listen to the other in our midst. At other times it causes us to flee, to avoid, to freeze. Like Adam and Eve hiding from God in the garden in shame, after biting the apple and realizing their nakedness, we hide away. We avoid truths about ourselves. We avoid forgiveness. We avoid admitting our mistakes. We stay in bed when we’re sad and depressed and tell everyone we’re fine. The disciples ran. They deserted Jesus when the plot thickened. Then locked themselves in a room, worrying. The disciples avoided the risk of getting killed when Jesus was arrested by taking off as fast as they could. They didn’t stop and say to one another, what would God want us to do in this situation.  Protect self, was all they could think about. How do you feel locked in, in your life? What has you bound? Stress, over-commitment, exhaustion, indecision, doubt, guilt? Pressure to please others can make us feel like cowering in a corner. Jesus comes to us in our fear, and says, “Peace be with you.” He shows us his wounds--reminds us of his humanness.  He says, “I send you. Unlock the room and get out there, where the risks are high, where your faults will be exposed, where you’ll need to do that thing you hoped someone else would do.” Maybe that is what losing our lives for Jesus’ sake is about. Emerging from our hiding places for the greater good, to live into our call as sent ones of God, despite the risk.

In yesterday’s Stillspeaking Devotional, Tony Robinson tells the story of two men at heaven’s gates:“Two men faced God on the day of judgment. One looked beat and beat-up. Arm in sling, forehead bandaged, clothes tattered and torn. He looked awful. Moreover, his life had been so hard, he felt a failure. Ashamed, he would not lift up his face to look upon the Lord.

The second man looked as if he just stepped off the tennis court after winning his morning set. Dressed smartly, he was tanned and fit. His teeth gleamed. He appeared to have been nipped-and-tucked in the right places. Relaxed, he smiled confidently at the Lord.

The Lord looked at the two men, then turned to the one who was tanned and tucked and said, ‘Where are your wounds? Was there nothing to fight for down there?’"

At Annual Meeting, our dynamic guest speaker DaVita McAlister told a group of us younger adults on Friday night, we all have a few things that we’re really good at.  We can do those things with full confidence, utilizing our strengths, as if it’s second nature to us. She challenged us, If you concentrate all of your energy on the things that are easy for you, then you are not living into your call. Whoa, I thought. This is not what the world tells us. Personality profiles and gift inventories help us see the color of our parachutes. We’re told to do what comes naturally for us.  Well, yes, but.  When we live into our call, we do what is scary but necessary, what we feel ill-equipped for, until we realize that God is the one equipping us. We need God.  DaVita talked about the fear so apparent in churches today about declining membership and the closing of churches.  She told us, we don’t need to fear death when we believe in resurrection. For two hundred years, she reminded us, church has been the center of society.  We can be grateful that it is taking it’s place back at the margins, at the edges where it belongs. There are no hiding places at the edge. Being sent may not mean proclaiming God’s peace from the mountaintop.  It may mean that we live our lives going out of our way to go to the fringe, to those we disagree with, those we don’t identify with, those we don’t have the patience for, that we go to them and offer ourselves as a safe space, breathing space. Jesus breathed on the disciples and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” Ah, we are not doing this with our own strength. The Holy Spirit is equipping us. He then said, “Practice forgiveness.” It’s the basic job description for loving others.

Imagine your life as a house. Are we in hiding? Or are we a hospitable, safe space? A space where Jesus breathes on us and the Spirit blows through us? Jesus comes to our hiding place and says, Peace be with you. Shalom. Be whole. Be calm. He breathes on us, and says, Receive the Holy Spirit. You are not alone. You will be equipped for the task God has laid before you. He says, forgive one another, as I have forgiven you. Allow me to lift all that unforgiveness off your shoulders. Know that I forgive you. Allow me to soften your heart. He says, As the Father has sent me, so I send you. God sent Jesus to rattle the establishment, proclaim justice, turn over the tables of the want for more more more, feed the hungry without judging, offer forgiveness, offer new life in the Spirit. As God sent Jesus, Jesus sends us. May we not avoid our calling of being sent. It’s scary, it’s uncomfortable, it doesn’t always make sense, it definitely is not logical. Yet when we emerge from our hiding places, transformation surely comes. As wounded healers, we are empowered by the Spirit to ministry not because of who we are, but because of who works through us. The shalom that comes when we open ourselves to the Spirit is worth the risk.