We Christians give ourselves some forty-odd days in Lent to prepare for the celebration of Easter. We approach the high point of the year somewhat slowly, taking the time needed to prepare ourselves spiritually to hear the good and amazing news of the resurrection. For forty days this year we read and studied and explored some of the parables of Jesus in the gospel of Luke. And so we were ready to joyfully sing our alleluias and shout that Christ is risen.

After forty days, you might think we’d need a break. But that’s not what we get.

Yes, everyone seems to know what to expect at church on the Sunday after Easter—not much.

This Sunday after Easter is referred by some as “Low Sunday.” I think you know what they mean. Attendance is, well, slightly lower than last Sunday—you probably have some more elbow room in your pew this week.

Very often the minister is on vacation. While that’s not the case, I do have to say that I enjoyed a little comp time on Monday.

It is good to be here this morning—and good to see all of you here today as well. Rugged Iowa City Congregationalists don’t need a break after Easter. In fact, along with the rest of the church we’re only at the beginning of the Easter season—a full fifty days between Easter and Pentecost. Certainly we should take more time to celebrate the resurrection than to prepare for it.

I’m glad that you’re here today because this Sunday after Easter is important for our life of faith. Today we hear an amazing story that has significance for all of us as we seek to live out the meaning of the Easter. We are reminded that Easter is not an ending, but a beginning.

Do something with me, will you? Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out. Does that feel good?

You know that breathing is involuntary—we don’t think about it, we don’t will it. When we’re stressed our breathing becomes shallow. And when we breathe through our mouths we can actually create feelings of stress.

There's no real rush here this morning. We’ll get out by noon. So breathe a little bit while you're here.

You probably remember that in the Hebrew and Greek of the Bible, the words that we translate as “breath” are also the words that we translate as “spirit.” So the risen Christ breathes on the disciples and tells them “Receive the Holy Spirit”—the breath of God.

In the midst of our stress, in the face of all the demands that press in on us, in the midst of our rapid paced lives, we need to catch our breath, to renew ourselves, to attend to our spirits.

I'm convinced that a church—this church—is just the kind of place we need for “spirit tending.” A church is set up to be a place where we can catch our breath. Unlike most other places, a church offers silence, opportunity for prayer and meditation, the chance to sing and speak and study and reflect with others.

In this community we can explore new ways of living that might make work and home and school more fulfilling. We can catch our breath and begin to see one another as human beings—and perhaps see ourselves as human as well—loveable,  forgiven, accepted, filled with gifts.

In these weeks after Easter we will listen again to some of the stories at the end of the gospels—stories of the disciples and their encounters with the resurrected Jesus. This morning we heard a story from the Gospel of John about Easter and the following Sunday. It speaks to weary and worn-out people who seek catch their breath, to attend to their spirits.

Late on a Sunday the disciples gather together behind locked doors out of fear of the religious authorities. They had heard from Mary Magdalene the impossibly good news that the crucified Jesus was alive once more—refreshing news, but difficult to believe.

Suddenly the risen Christ is standing among them. The bolted doors of fear seem to be no barrier to him.

Perhaps particle physics could explain this. I’ve always liked the suggestion of C.S. Lewis that this risen Jesus is more real than we are and so can walk through walls—in the same way that a plane can cut through the clouds that appear so solid to us on the ground. Maybe so.

Explanations never really satisfy, however. As always, the “miraculous” is not for its own sake. Jesus does not appear behind the locked door to dazzle, surprise, or delight.

Look.

The risen Christ does not know the barricades of locked hearts any more than the barricades of locked doors.

The risen Christ is not limited by our closed minds any more than our closed windows.

The risen Christ will not be constrained by our fears—real or imagined.

Locked away, we encounter the risen Christ who breathes upon us, giving us God’s Spirit. We become part of a new creation—part of something that God is doing through us and among us.

However those first followers of Jesus come to recognize that the risen Christ is there among them, what is really significant is the word that he speaks.

To frightened hearts he speaks a word of peace. To those who are weary he speaks of shalom—wholeness and healing. And so that there is no doubt about this peace or the One who offers it, he shows his hands and his side which still, even in this resurrected body, bear the signs of suffering.

The One who knew the human condition of pain and death speaks the word of peace again. As if to say this peace will be a central experience of those who chose to follow.

And then Jesus does the strangest thing.

He breathes on the disciples.

“Receive the Holy Spirit,” he says. Catch this breath. Catch this spirit, what you really need to be alive.

With the resurrection of Jesus, his followers understood that something new had begun. And they needed new ways of talking. How do you speak of an event that changes everything when everything seems the same? How do you talk about something unique—something that has never happened before and has not happened since?

Some early Christians seized on the idea of a new creation.

Their Jewish tradition told them that in seven days God created all that is. On the Sunday of the resurrection—the eighth day—God started a new creation in raising Jesus from the dead. Just as God breathed the breath of life into the first human being, so the risen Christ breathed new life, a holy spirit into the disciples.

Paul echoes this thought in his letter to the Christians in Corinth: “If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation. The old is past and gone. Everything is fresh and new.”

God’s word at the end of the first creation was, “It’s good—very good!” Everything’s all right.

God’s word at the end of this new creation is once again: “It’s good.” New creation speaks of reconciliation—of relationships being set right.

On the day of the new creation, on the day of resurrection, the risen Christ sends the disciples into the world with a mission and with the energy of the Holy Spirit. And a part of that mission involves the sins of others.

“If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” These words of Jesus are hard to hear and understand. They require some work if we are to make sense of them—and after all, who said this Sunday after Easter would be easy?

“If you forgive the sins of any they are forgiven them,” says the risen Christ. “If you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” Taken on face value, if this is the work of those who follow Christ, many of us would just as soon stop right here. Who wants to be responsible for the sins of other people? Are there any among us who would let the forgiveness or the retention of sins rest on their shoulders, their actions?

As is often the case with the Gospel of John, we need to think theologically here. In John’s gospel, sin is not a moral lapse; it is not some behavioral transgression. Sin is a theological failing. To sin is to be blind to the revelation of God in Jesus. Several times in John’s gospel, when confronted with the reality of God in Jesus, people turn away.[i]

That is sin.

We are not called to forgive the moral lapses of others—or to hold onto them. We are called to bear witness to the God who is made known to us in Jesus Christ. Gail O’Day, one of the premier living scholars of the Gospel of John, puts it this way: “By loving one another as Jesus loves, the faith community reveals God to the world; by revealing God to the world, the church makes it possible for the world to choose to enter into a relationship with the God of limitless love…The faith community’s mission is not to be an arbiter of right and wrong but to bear unceasing witness to the love of God in Jesus.”

The Easter task that Jesus gives his disciples, the Easter task that we continue, is to make God in Jesus known to the world. In doing so we bring the world—and ourselves—to the moment of decision and judgment. By our actions, then, we bring the forgiveness of God to the world.

With the peace that the risen Christ offers, we continue in mission and ministry. The Gospel of John most likely originally ended with this chapter and those words about Jesus doing many things that are not written in this book. That’s a good ending. It reminds us that the work of Christ is not over. The work of Christ continues among those who follow. Because of the work of this congregation people find their lives changed for the better. Because of the work of this congregation God’s Spirit is made known in places nearby and far away.

Easter calls us to open our doors.

Easter calls us to open our hearts.

Easter calls us to share the love of God.