Life Can Change in a Second.

Life can change in a second. And when life changes there is often a little chaos as one adapts to new circumstances, the need for physical changes to lifestyles and a whole lot of mixed emotions. I’ve certainly experienced that over the last few weeks, and I know others have too. 

 

So, I  have a very, very small glimpse of that unsettled feeling the disciples must have experienced over the Easter events as told in the story told in the lectionary (John 20:19-31). 

 

Life had changed in a second for them. Even after hearing from Mary about the resurrected Christ, for safety they had locked themselves into a room. 

 

I’m trying to imagine the variety of mixed feelings and emotions that would be going through their heads as they ponder the events of that first Easter.

 

Fear . . . will the religious authorities think we have stolen the body?

Terror . . . will we be crucified too?

Confusion . . . what’s going to happen to us now?

Shock . . . think how traumatic the weekend has been

Guilt . . . didn’t they all scatter and deny Jesus

Regret . . . I wish I’d stayed at the cross

Powerlessness . . . I wish I could have protected Jesus

Hopelessness . . . only three years and it’s ended, it’s all over. 

Incredibility . . . Is it really true what Mary (and the other women) told us? 

Excitement . . .  Maybe it is true.

Hope . . . Maybe Jesus did rise from the dead.

 

A myriad of thoughts, I can imagine them lying awake at night being bombarded by them.

 

But then, life changed in a second! Suddenly Jesus appeared and said “Peace be with you”

 

Wow, amazing, life changing, what an impact those four small words must have had. 

 

Jesus was once again amongst them.

Jesus understood their inner turmoil

Jesus understood their weaknesses but didn’t condemn them

They may have abandoned Jesus, but Jesus didn’t abandon them

 

Then Jesus breathed on them. And something happened, something deep within themselves and it changed everything. Nothing would ever be the same again for them. It was not just an outward change but a deep inner change. Suddenly they had direction and strength and purpose. 

 

Jesus’ mission hadn’t died on the cross, they were going to carry it on. This is the Johannine account of Pentecost. This is John’s account of the giving of the Holy Spirit. It is not spectacular and noisy as in Acts but quiet and relational.

 

The change for the disciples was momentous. They were behind closed doors afraid of the same fate befalling them. All it took was one breathe, and life changed. 

 

But someone missed out. Thomas wasn’t with them. Today, I want to rethink the image of Thomas. I want to shake off the doubting label that has been upon him for centuries. 

 

Not a doubting Thomas but a Thomas who is desperate for inclusion, desperate not to have missed out. I prefer to see Thomas as desperate to have the same spiritual experience as others. I think everyone is a bit like that wanting to see and experience for themselves rather than hearing about it second-hand. 

 

I can relate to that. I know that feeling of being left out, being excluded.  I love the story and humanness of Thomas. I think maybe Thomas represents all who have ever felt excluded.

 

I think we can learn from how Thomas behaved:

 

Thomas stuck around despite missing the initial experience. 

Thomas didn’t need the same experience (he didn’t actually get to touch the wounds)

Thomas was included in his own way. 

Thomas saw his own vision of the risen Jesus.

 

This way of interpreting Thomas contains hope for all of us. Even though we might not get to see and experience life and spirituality in the same way as others, we are still blessed. 

 

A Roller Coaster Ride

Everyone loves a parade — well, almost everyone! Certainly, for the younger generation they are magical. 

Ithaca has a huge parade every year at the May festival. Crowds line the streets, standing or sitting as floats show off their best and local groups dance, sing and play. Children surge forward hoping to be recipients of candy and small trinkets thrown into the crowd. It is bright, it is colourful and it is noisy. It is a window where people can forget their troubles and come together to join in the fun.

Palm Sunday is all about a parade. As I pondered it the words of a song, well known to my generation, came to mind. The first four lines got stuck in my head as I sang them over and over (but not out loud!).

“We skipped the light fandango
Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor
I was feeling kinda seasick
The crowd called out for more”

This same sense of abandoned joy comes across in the parade in our lectionary (Luke 19.28-40) Jesus came riding from Bethphage to Jerusalem on a colt which had never before been ridden. As the parade continued the crowds turned out with cheering, waving branches and laying their cloaks along the road mindful of the young donkey’s hooves.

It always seems a little bit of a strange, completely out of character that Jesus paraded with all the fanfare that the author of the gospel describes. 

Maybe, the author of the gospel included it to emphasize the sovereignty of Jesus. The crowds chanted, “Blessed is the Sovereign” (38)

Maybe, the author of the gospel included it to emphasize the relationship of Jesus to God.

“Blessed is the one who comes in the name of God” (38)

Maybe, the author of the gospel included it to emphasize the connection with the angels at the birth stories and the message of peace.

“Peace in heaven and glory in the highest heaven” (38)

 

All these are worth spending time to think about but I’m not remaining there today. As always as I read the Palm Sunday story each year, despite the joyful words, I feel sad. I wonder once again at fickleness of humanity. 

The parade is only the beginning of a weeklong journey that is a bit like a roller coaster ride. Not that I have been on a roller coaster, but I have watched others on them. The amazing highs with the screams as they drop to deep lows.  

One thing I have noticed as people leave roller coasters they are often disorientated, a little dizzy, they have an unsteady gait and, in some cases, even vomit. But then they queue up for more! The song catches it well “I was feeling kinda seasick/The crowd called out for more”

But this initial air of excitement waned. Within a few days the cries of the crowd changed to “crucify”. The cries of peace turned to cries of violence. It is unnerving and unsettling. What changed the people?  

I think this story shows how fickle human beings are. Women’s Ways of Knowing (Belenky et al 1986) details how women think, make choices and decisions about their own lives. I found it interesting that the research showed people will often just go with the majority or follow the opinion expressed by a perceived authority. 

Is that what happened here with the crowds? 

Was it simply a case of going with the perceived authority?

Was it keeping in line with the majority?

 

These are salutary thoughts. They make me feel sad but challenged.

I think this year Palm Sunday offers an amazing opportunity for each of us. 

Would I have swayed with the crowd to change our voice from joy and peace to death and violence?

Or would I have been strong enough to remain with the few women at the foot of the cross?

(For those who didn’t recognize it: A Whiter Shade of Pale by Procol Harum)