Jesus was the talk of the town. You have to remember that all this happened before Facebook and Twitter, before Instagram and Pinterest, before Meerkat and Periscope. This was all word of mouth. All of Jerusalem was abuzz about the tragic death of Friday afternoon and the mystery of Sunday morning. And now rumors were recklessly ricocheting all over town. Jesus was alive, so some said.
Luke listed five different sources for these rumors:
- Several women and two men at the tomb (24:1-8)
- The women’s announcement to the eleven disciples (vv. 9-11)
- Peter’s verification of the empty tomb (v. 12)
- Two disciples on the road to Emmaus (vv. 13-32)
- A gathering in Jerusalem (vv. 33-49)
The believers in Jerusalem were filled with confusion. Their lives had been thrown into chaos since late on Thursday. Now it was Sunday evening. Emotions were all over the map: anxiety, depression, distrust, doubt, fear, frustration, guilt, grief, mourning, restlessness, suspicion, terror. The one who had brought them all together was dead, and not just dead, but executed by the state on trumped up charges after the fashion of a kangaroo court. And to double the pain and grief, his body was missing. In the midst of the room overflowing with alarm, Jesus appeared.
Everything didn’t calm down. They all didn’t say, “Whew!” wipe their brows, tell Jesus that he really had them going, and ask how he did it. No, it didn’t happen that way. What happened was that their heightened emotions escalated beyond belief. Jesus’ typical greeting, “Peace be with you,” did everything but settle a peaceful calm on the gathering. The disciples were off the charts terrified. Jesus asked them, “Why are you freaking out? It’s me. See my hands and feet. Go ahead, touch me. I’m real.” And as if he had been away on a trip for a few days, he calmly said, “It’s dinnertime. Let’s eat.” That was certainly the Jesus that they had known. He had already broken bread with the Emmaus travelers. Eating was natural with him.
Yet, this was a different Jesus. After his fierce outburst in the Temple precincts about the abusive money trading and the sales of animals for the sacrifices, he had remained silent before both the religious and civil authorities. He always had been so sure of himself, yet raw, earthly, human power had squashed him like a bug. All the leaders – civil and religious – gloated over their success, their triumph. The mob had joined them in their jeers and mockery. They had relished condemning him as a traitor, as a false prophet, as a blasphemer, as an upstart. He offered no defense. And God didn’t either. There was no eleventh hour stay of execution, no last second divine rescue. Was it all a sham, a hoax?
While the leaders were all laughing at how easy it was to get rid of Jesus, God and Jesus were having the last laugh. They were in cahoots against the powers of the world. The leaders were all puffed up, proud of themselves for their great coup to take out Jesus before he could do any more damage to their cozy system. While they were puffing themselves up, God was letting the air out of their sails. It wasn’t about the leaders. It was about God. While the leaders were flaunting their conspiratorial success, God was working behind the scenes, rigging the trap door which would open up under the weight of their pompous pride.
At the beginning of the gospel, Luke tells Theophilus the he wrote the gospel so that his reader could have full confidence in the soundness of the instruction he had received (1:4). Everything that Luke has written in the previous twenty-three chapters has led to this point. God’s plans will not be circumvented. Creation will be redeemed. The apparent tragedy of Jesus’ death is transformed into a new thing. The power of the resurrection is the power to plant the seeds of transformation. The hope of the resurrection is grounded in the experience of the first believers. Closed minds can be opened. Life can be radically different.
Jesus’ ultimate message to those gathered around him is, “Peace be with you.” We are reminded of the words that John recorded. “Peace I leave with you. My peace I give you. I give to you not as the world gives” (John 14:27). The Temple and occupying leaders thought they were bringing peace to the people by removing an upstart, a rabble-rouser, someone they perceived as a charlatan and a threat to order. But it was their order, the Temple’s order, Caesar’s order that was threatened, not God’s. God’s order will prevail. Jesus gave the believers his peace, so that they could be proper witnesses to God’s work in the world.
Dorothy Soelle, born in Germany in 1929, grew up during the years of Hitler and the Nazi regime. Her writings are theological reflections on coming to grip with the horrors of the concentration camps and life after World War II, realizing that the heritage of Protestant liberalism had failed to stop the war. She challenged the human propensity for wanting to feel safe, to feel secure from any threat. That could only come from God. She noted in her essay “Peace, Not Security,” that “change happens at the level of action that contains risk.”(1) In another essay, Soelle wrote that “because you are strong [in Christ], you can put the neurotic need for security behind you. You do not need to defend your life like a lunatic. For the love of the poor, Jesus says, you can give your life away and spread it around.”(2)
The reason Jesus can be the talk of the town today is the he does the same for us as he did for the early followers. His sudden appearance brought change to their lives as they moved from fright and alarm, to joy mixed with disbelief and puzzlement, and finally, to open and understanding minds and hearts. That marked shift in the core of their beings led them forth to take great risks, witnessing to the risen Christ. Jesus did not bring them security by the world’s definition. They risked everything for him, because all the things from which they had used to seek security he had conquered, that all the things which used to threaten them were groundless. Not even death held any sway any more.
Security is a hard issue for twenty-first century people. You and I lived through the Cold War. We remember the Berlin Airlift, the fear of Russian missiles in Cuba, the domino threat of communism toppling nation after nation. We also remember the anxiety of bus boycotts, race riots, assassinations of key leaders, the fear-fueled breaking of laws by those pledged to uphold them. And our being is eroded by the fears of mass terrorism, economic downturns, uncertain health issues. It’s not just an American thing. The fears and threats are experienced by all human beings, regardless of political affiliation or national identity.
Today’s text challenges us: The more we attempt to make for peace ourselves, the less secure we are. The more we empty ourselves of the need to nail everything down around us, the more we can fill our lives with the peace that the risen Christ graciously offers us. Jesus commissions us to declare the presence and power of God in the midst of tragedy, despair, and death. They are not ultimate. Only God is. And God is about redeeming creation and us. That’s the really talk of the town. Amen.
(1) Dorothy Soelle, “Peace, Not Security,” Essential Writings (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2006), 80.
(2) “Jesus’ Death,” Ibid., 127.
Unless noted otherwise, all scripture references are from The Common English Bible, © 2011 www.commonenglishbible.com.
Copyright © 2015 First Presbyterian Church of Waverly, Ohio. Reprinted by permission.
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