“Locked Doors and
Locked Hearts”
John 20:19-31
When we made the move to Hawaii (where
my dad was part of a group that was starting a school to train Christian
missionaries for Asia and the Pacific.), I received a shock that first
Sunday we went to church.
It was an old WW2 vintage Quonset hut,
you know the kind of barracks that you see in Gomer Pyle re-runs.
But this Quonset hut housed the Nanakuli Door of Faith Church.
I soon learned that church was a little different at the Door of Faith.
This was a small church, on a backstreet of Nanakuli, HI. On any given
Sunday that Quonset hut you could find 3 or 4 ukuleles, a number of
guitars, drums of various sorts, tambourines and lots of singing. Church
lasted for literally hours. For this Presbyterian kid, who was accustomed
to the worship of the frozen chosen, decently and in order, it was a
shock. Contemporary Christian music is often criticized (unfairly in
some respects) as being 7-11 music, seven words sung eleven times. Well,
at the Nanakuli door faith church, one chorus could go on for 20 minutes!
After church, we didn't move out the
door and go home. We all gathered just outside under a tent, and we
ate, and ate, and ate: poi, poke, kalua pig, lomi lomi salmon, haupia.
We fed on truly joyful fellowship. They took this strange, skinny, pale
kid from California, and invited me in.
God was there.
Later, when I was in college, after
having looked into different faith perspectives, and after having tried
to hide from my own darkness through the numbing effects of various
substances, I found myself called back to church. I discovered New Song
church. It was a bigger church than the Door Of Faith. It was ethnically
very diverse, and united in spirit. With a huge choir and a fantastically
talented worship leader, that church rocked. I rediscovered my faith,
because God was there.
When Carrie and I made our way to Princeton
NJ, we first went to the pillar church in town. It had a beautiful sanctuary,
big white classical columns, big organ, polished choir, and fantastic
preaching. But we found it to be cold. Though it gave me a chance to
schmooze many of my seminary professors, we decided to go to the much
smaller Presbyterian church down the street, the one that had split
off from the pillar church during the civil war. This church also had
great preaching, and we felt welcomed, and invited to explore our faith
and deal with our doubts. God was there.
Later, we found a primarily traditional
church, mid-size congregation: three hymns and a sermon (sometimes good,
other times so-so). It was a loving community that took in a green student
and nurtured him into a pastor in waiting. There was love and acceptance
even by those whose perspectives and theology were very different from
mine. God was there.
God was there in each of these churches.
And God's presence depended not upon the building, or the location,
or the style of worship, or even the preacher. God was there simply
because the doors and hearts of those who gathered were open.
Thank God(!) that these churches were
not like the disciples we find in our gospel story today.
The gospel writer tells us specifically
that they locked the doors. On that Easter night, the voices were
hushed. It was dark, and as the light from the candles cast shadows
on the walls, the disciples hunkered down, and they hid in fear.
Through their minds raced the memories
of the last weeks when they had followed Jesus into the middle of the
storm, the memories of his plunging ahead despite all of their warnings.
Behind the forced conversation in that room were the memories of his
arrest, and trial, and crucifixion.
By the time that they had gathered together
on this first Easter night, yes they had seen the empty tomb, and yes,
Mary Magdalene had told them that she had seen Jesus alive and well.
Still, they locked the doors and hid in fear, hoping that no one in
town would know that they were there.
They were afraid, you see, that they
might be next.
This story is John's version of the
beginning of the church. This is the beginning of the community of faith
through which God would change the world. But look at their beginnings!
Look at our beginnings.
The opening of this story is a picture of the church at its worst, closed up, concerned only with its own safety, fearful that they would be forced to go down the same road as Jesus.
Jesus has been preparing his disciples
for his departure. He has gone over and over his commandments to love
one another, to be bold, to trust him, to be ready to follow him at
all costs. The crucifixion and return was no secret from the disciples.
They just didn't believe it. Either that or they weren't paying attention.
No sooner had Jesus been killed and they retreated like frightened rabbits
behind closed, bolted doors.
This is the church of locked doors and
locked hearts, closed by doubt, fear, and uncertainty. Here is a church
with absolutely nothing going for it except for one thing: Jesus. When
it gathered, in spite of its best efforts, the risen Christ pushed through
the locked door, threw back the bolt, and stood among them. In spite
of itself, Jesus comes to them and blesses them. “They tried their
best,” Jesus says, with a twinkle in his eye, “but they couldn't
kill me…and they can't kill you either.”
“Peace be with you my brothers and
sisters,” he said to them. “You may think it's all over. You may
think you are as good as dead. But God has raised me. Why don't you
have little taste yourself of resurrection?”
He breathed upon them, “Receive the
Holy Spirit.” As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” Your mission,
he said, is not to stay in this room, but to throw open the doors and
go outside with the good news, this is not the church of closed doors
and locked hearts, this is the church of open arms and unlocked spirits.
And they changed the world.
You know, we like to make fun of the
disciples sometimes. They were so thick. As we get to know them in the
gospels, almost of every page they fall short in understanding or ability.
And yet, how often are we so like them.
How often, like the first disciples,
faced with lives we hadn't expected, do we huddle together, afraid.
If we are honest, we, at times, do a very good impression of the church
of locked doors and locked hearts. We gather with people just like us
and close the door to the stranger. We cling to familiar patterns and
comforting words and hold on to one another as if for dear life. We
keep looking back to fonder days instead of looking forward to new horizons.
Eventually, we find the deadbolts locked, and the shutters drawn.
I said earlier of the churches that
have blessed me, “Thank God that those churches were not like the
first church in our story.” Truth is, they were. Each of these churches
had some doors that were locked. But Jesus pushes through them. These
churches, like the first disciples, were open enough to hear Jesus invitation
to receive peace, and to take an honest look at the house to see what
doors were locked, what windows were painted shut, and then work on
opening them.
What about us? Are we willing, on this
Sunday after Easter, to examine our locked doors and our locked hearts?
Every person, and every church has them, and we do too.
The story of the church can be summed
up in this way: God shows us our locked doors. We protest and point
fingers, and then eventually, Jesus turns the key to the open position.
This is what happens with the controversial
issues with which we struggled: the relationship between Jew and Gentile
in the New Testament, Slavery, the ordination of women.
Now we get into the nitty gritty, where
the new pastor wants to tread lightly. (Be careful!) Access to this
building, my friends, which is difficult for some, is a closed door.
We need to do something about it. Is the fact that this project has
taken so long a locked door? (Watch out!) Have past wounds, and bad
experiences closed our hearts to new horizons? (uh oh).
I pray you don't take this the wrong
way. This is not about fault or responsibility. This is about an invitation
to be sent, to find new discoveries and horizons. Friends, I came to
this church because I sensed open doors. In the month since I have been
here, this sense of openness has been confirmed over and over again.
God is here. All I would like to suggest is that the fact that God is
here doesn't mean that we don't have some doors that aren't locked,
or windows that are painted shut.
This morning we celebrate the good news
that Jesus comes to us as he came to those first disciples, unhindered
by the walls we build around ourselves to keep others away and ourselves
safe, unstopped by the doors we lock because we don't know what's out
there, unimpeded by the grief or fear that takes our breath away.
Jesus comes as he always does, speaking peace. More than that-he comes breathing peace into our anxious hearts. It is the breath of the Holy Spirit. It is our second wind, the deep breathing we need in order to open our doors and taste a little bit of the resurrection in the here and now.
He unbinds us from the fear that haunts
us, and from the pain and grief we have fallen in love with. He releases
us from the shame and guilt that hold us captive, and even from the
doubt and disbelief that keep us from entering God's future with hope.
Jesus frees us in order that we might forgive and free others in his
name.
If you are a visitor this morning, or
happen to be a Thomas, if there is doubt in your mind or heart, if this
is a locked door for you, I am glad you are here. I want to affirm your
doubting, your seeking. It is true, we are imperfect disciples here
this morning. We cower behind our locked doors at times. But we serve
a living savior, and this is a place where you can touch him. We know,
because we have encountered him ourselves.
Last Friday, we hosted this year's confirmation
class for an overnight at our house. It was an eye-opening experience,
or I should say, a “trying to keep your eyes open” experience as
the night grew late. I have to say I had great time with them. It was
wonderful, as we talked and had fun, to get to know these wonderful
disciples who are about to unlock a new door in their faith. They have
a long way to go in some ways, but I discovered that they had just the
right faith for them. God is teaching them to unlock new doors when
the time is right.
As a church we are in the same place.
We have just the right faith for us, at this moment in time, and yet
God is also inviting us to unlock new doors of ministry and compassion
because the time is right.
No locked door could hold our savior back. How about us?
Amen.
April 15, 2007
Rev. Paul Heins
First Presbyterian Church
Logan, Utah