Showing Up

John 20:24-29

During my junior year of college, my high school had been making a run in the boys’ state basketball tournament. After winning their quarterfinal game on a Wednesday, they were playing in the semi-finals on Friday. I had made the decision that if they won, I would skip my Friday classes and meet my family in Ann Arbor, MI. This was something I didn’t want to miss. I had to be there. I had to show up.

Showing up. Sometimes we do it out of love for something or someone; like basketball and my former high school. That weekend in March 1980, I didn’t want to just listen to the games. I wanted to experience them for myself. Hearing about something is different than being there. So, I showed up.

Sometimes we show up out of obligation. We have to be there, so we are. Maybe we show up because our friends are there (wouldn’t that be nice). Maybe it’s something we’ve always done. Even though we don’t know why anymore, we show up anyway. Always done this, so here we are again. Or maybe there just isn’t anything better for us to do. No place better for us to be.

I wonder if that’s how Thomas the Apostle felt, when he showed up. The one labeled the doubter, he isn’t given the credit he deserves for hanging around. He didn’t believe what the disciples told him after they had seen Jesus. In fact, he said, “Unless I stick my hand in his side and my fingers in his hand, I will not believe!” But for some reason while not believing, Thomas showed up anyway.

Why? I wonder if deep down they were remembering, wondering, and hoping against fear and despair. I’m not surprised Jesus showed up; Jesus always does. I’m not surprised Jesus came to where they were; Jesus always does that too. Jesus always shows up. I’m not surprised by that at all. What I am surprised by, is that the Apostles did. Their dreams had been crushed as they watched Jesus die. Hope was gone. So why were they hiding together in the room? Did they think they were next? And if they did, why didn’t they just go home? Why didn’t they go back to work?  What are they doing now?

I wonder? Maybe they were remembering; remembering how Jesus showed up for the man born blind after he was kicked out of the synagogue. Remembering how Jesus showed up, eventually, for Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Remembering how Jesus showed up; cleansing the temple, reclaiming the worship space for the Gentile, the unclean, the outsider. Remembering what had taken place for the last three years and wondering in hope, if Jesus would show up one more time. So, they showed up, hoping Jesus would show up again, too. Hiding in homes to protect themselves from what was “out there.”  Afraid for their safety. Wondering if they were going to be next, if Jesus would show up here too, maybe even today. And we all know what the answer to their wondering was.

And if Jesus showed up for them, He will for us, too. As we hang out behind closed doors, protecting ourselves from what is “out there,” wondering when this will end, if Jesus will show up for us, I think we can listen with hope to what John is saying. This letter was written during a time that the church was still hiding, being beaten, imprisoned, and even murdered for their faith. Not much had changed the first 40 years for the church, and John is reminding them, as he is us, that as we hang out, just like Jesus showed up for them, Jesus will show up for us too. It might not look like it did for Mary, or Peter, or John, or Thomas.  It might feel like fear and despair now, but in hope we believe, as they did, that Jesus will show up for us, when we need it, right on time, answering our questions right when we need them answered.

Making the Journey: Got Bread?

Making the Journey: Got Bread?: Got Bread? John 13:21-35 My dad was a pastor.  He pastored medium size churches, rarely ever larger than 250.  We gathered 3 times e...

Got Bread?

Got Bread?

John 13:21-35

My dad was a pastor.  He pastored medium size churches, rarely ever larger than 250.  We gathered 3 times each week; Sunday morning, evening, and Wednesday night.  My dad’s churches, because of their size, were close and intimate.  That brought along with it some really good days, and some really tough days.  There were not many secrets in our church, because there was nowhere to hide.  The best way to hide was to stop coming, but if you stopped coming that only served as a sign that something was wrong.  So there really was no hiding.

My dad loved rituals.  He was experiential before that was cool.  One he loved repeating was what is referred to as a “love feast”.  Unannounced, we would show up for church on Sunday evening and find a loaf of bread on the communion table waiting for us.  You could hear some audibly moan, understanding its significance.  When we showed up, seeing that loaf of bread, it was a call back to living in the way of Jesus shaped by his behavior in John 13.

After Jesus washed the disciple’s feet, he began to share the Passover meal with them.  We celebrate this differently as Jesus redefined the bread and cup; replacing the Jewish Seder with another meal, Communion.  But something else was going on.  After they ate Jesus tells them that one from the inner circle was going to betray him.  No one knew what he meant, except Judas.  But before Judas left the room, Jesus made a gracious gesture.  Its why no one tackled him when Jesus dismissed him to, “do quickly what you are going to do”.  He gave him a piece of bread.     

This is laced with symbolism and easy for us to miss, but not them.  When a Jew breaks bread, it’s a pledge of friendship.  It literally means that even if I have to die, I will not betray our friendship.  Wow.  Jesus says this to Judas.  Judas!  The same one John opens the curtain to earlier in his gospel as Judas calls Mary’s anointing of Jesus wasteful, declaring Judas didn’t say this because he cared about the poor, but was a thief? (John 12:6)  Jesus forgives Judas.  Let that sink in for a second.  And Judas knew what Jesus is saying as he handed him that piece of bread, as well as everyone in the room.  Then he left, and followed through with the betrayal anyway. 

Jesus didn’t wait for the cross to forgive, but is giving us a glimpse into what was about to happen in their near future, and our present – forgiving the betrayer. Forgiving the one who offends, sins against, even considered the enemy.  But he wasn’t the only one, was he?

Peter is forgiven.  Thomas is forgiven.  Matthew is forgiven.  Judas is forgiven.  But the best news in this is, so am I.  So are you.  So are we.  As Paul expressed, he was the chief of sinners, that’s a long line we can stand in.  But that isn’t enough.  After Judas left, Jesus went on to say:

“Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.  By this act, everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

So when we walked into church on a given Sunday evening, seeing a loaf of bread on the communion table reminded us of Judas, how Jesus forgave him, telling us to forgive each other.  This wouldn’t be bread extended from Jesus to us; it was bread extended from us to each other.  “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples.”  The one we had offended, or worse, the one who had offended us.  It was the call to seek those out that we needed to be reconciled with.  It was “leaving our gift at the altar, and after being reconciled to our brother or sister, coming back to the altar to present our gift”.  It wasn’t easy, but it was what Jesus had done for us, and what he instructed us to do for each other.  It was, and still is, the way of Jesus and his people.  It was, and still is, the way we witness to the world Jesus love for us and ours for each other.

So we broke and shared bread, cried, apologized, and often ended praying around the altar together.  As difficult as was, it was the right thing to do.  It was always good.  As difficult as living this way is, it is the right, the good, the only way to live.  Can you imagine the impact it had on the 10-year-olds in the room watching their parents who hadn’t talked with each other in a couple of weeks crying on each other’s shoulders, seeking forgiveness from one another while exchanging pieces of bread?  Well, so much so that I can still remember it vividly 50 years later. 

This is the way of Jesus.  This is what Friday is all about, and why it is “good”.  It’s shaped by love expressed on Friday, made possible by the hope displayed on Sunday. 

“Father forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing.”

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples.”

Got bread?