Octave Day of Easter
Fr. David Curry
Christ Church, Windsor, NS
AD 2002
“The same day at evening, being the first day
of the week, when
the doors were shut, where the disciples were
assembled
for fear of the Jews, came Jesus and stood
in their
midst, and said unto them, ‘Peace be unto
you’”.
What goes on
behind closed doors? That we cannot say unless it be made known to us,
unless somehow the doors of understanding are opened to us. The
Resurrection is a closed door event. It happens in the hidden darkness of a
closed tomb. And yet it is made known. The stone is rolled away. The door
is opened. The truth of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ is made known. It
is made known so as to be lived.
We can only
know it after the fact, as it were. We can only know it by encountering the
idea of the Resurrection itself in all of the fullness of its intensity, in
all of the intensity of its reality. And that means more than the opening
of the tomb, not less than the opening of the tomb, to be sure, but more.
There is more
than the tomb that is closed. Our hearts and minds, too, are like closed
tombs. Today we are shown how fear and uncertainty keep us behind closed
doors, the closed doors of our hearts and minds. But even more, we are
shown how Christ makes himself known to us in his Resurrection. He comes
into our midst. He comes when and where we are behind closed doors.
Then and there he bestows peace and forgiveness. Such is
resurrection in us. Then and there the doors of the understanding
are closed no more. Then and there, the closed doors of our minds
are opened from within.
It is God’s
way to work upon our understanding. The resurrection is a new creation,
including a new creation of our minds. We are transformed by the renewing
of our minds. The resurrection is the great transformation at work in our
lives by the grace of God.
Christ comes
into our midst. He engages us where we are, even behind closed doors. He
engages us where we are but only so as to bring us to where he is. He comes
into our midst to bring us out of the tomb; he comes to bring us out from
behind the closed doors of our hearts and minds; he comes to bring us into
the peace and forgiveness which alone is of God and which is the power of
the resurrection for us and in us. Here is the peace which the world cannot
give. Here is the forgiveness which only God can bestow. Such is the power
of the resurrection.
Christ does
not break into our midst by violence. The closed doors of our hearts and
minds are not broken down from without. They are opened from within.
Christ communicates the grace of his resurrection to us. He works upon our
understanding and draws us into his understanding. He empowers us with his
knowing love.
John’s gospel
goes on to make the point even more forcibly and eloquently. For on that
“same day at evening”, Thomas, one of the twelve as he is simply
described, was not present among that huddle of the fearful behind closed
doors. But when they told him what had happened that evening, he would not
believe them. He would not believe them, “unless I see in his hands the
print of the nails, and place my fingers in the mark of the nails, and place
my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
And so, eight
days later, again behind closed doors, Christ appeared again in their
midst. This time Thomas was there. Christ had appeared for Thomas’ sake.
Behind closed doors, Thomas’ faith in the risen Christ is confirmed and
opened to view. “My Lord and my God”, he cries and so may we. It
has become part of the priest’s prayer at the elevation of the sacrament
during the Prayer of Consecration at the Eucharist.
For what is
opened to view is for our sake, too. Thomas’ story is given for “the
greater confirmation of our faith”, as Thomas Aquinas would remind us.
What goes on
behind the closed doors of our souls? Is it fear and despair, anger
and discouragement, pride and envy? or is it peace and forgiveness?
If it is fear and despair, anger and discouragement, pride and envy, then we
are closed tombs, to be sure, dead in ourselves. But being dead in
ourselves means that we are dead to God and dead to one another. We are the
walking dead, “the hollow men” as T.S. Eliot puts it.
Peace and
forgiveness is something divine, something of God’s work for us and in us.
“What I tell you three times is true”, as the Bellman proclaims in
Lewis Carroll’s The Hunting of the Snark, and here,
three times behind closed doors, Christ says to us, “Peace be unto you”.
The peace of the Risen Christ is the peace which only God can give. It
means forgiveness and new life; new life is found in the forgiveness of
Christ. This is what is opened out to us through his Resurrection. Christ,
standing in our midst, communicates his grace to us. His grace breaks us
out of the closed tombs of ourselves. He brings us into the presence of his
endless life. He communicates the reality of his resurrection to us. We
have only to live it.
The same day at evening, being the first day
of the week, when
the doors were shut, where the disciples were
assembled
for fear of the Jews, came Jesus and stood in
their
midst, and said unto them, ‘Peace be unto
you’.
