John 20:19-23

In a little study book I recently wrote entitled Bottom Line Beliefs I share a story about Clovis Chappell, the great Methodist preacher of a previous generation. He served all the largest churches in that denomination. One year in one of those great churches, he stood in the pulpit on Christmas Sunday and looked at his congregation—packed to the rafters and sitting in folding chairs along the aisle and in the narthex. It was time for the Call to Worship, and he stood there... silently... looking at them... saying nothing... and they waited, and waited, until they grew anxious just waiting for him to speak. At last he did. He looked at all those people packed into that sanctuary, and he said: “Well, well. It looks like some of you have put on a little weight since Easter!”

I would never have the nerve to say that —but every preacher thinks it. Here we are on the Sunday after Easter. Every Christian church in the world saw attendance swell last Sunday. And I would wager that probably every single church on earth has witnessed a decline in attendance today... which is why throughout Christendom, this day is called “Low Sunday.” It’s as if on Easter a lot of people fill up their tanks with enough faith to keep the car going until December, when they come back for a little more.

That has led a lot of folks every year on this day—“Low Sunday”—to ask the question: “Did Easter matter?” Or is it just a festive holiday when, for whatever reason, church is elevated in importance, right alongside bonnets and baskets and chocolate-covered bunnies?

In New Testament times, Easter mattered more than anything else. It was the story of the Resurrection that gave life and meaning to every other story they told and cherished and wrote down for us. All the Jesus stories in the gospels had meaning for the first-century Church only because Jesus rose and lived again. Had it not been for Easter, Jesus would have been just another engaging Rabbi – and not held in nearly as high esteem, for example, as Judas Maccabeus, the freedom fighter. It was the Resurrection that confirmed His status as the Messiah.

All that, of course, is theological. But additionally, there were personal reasons why Easter mattered to the Disciples…and why it still matters to us. For a few moments, let’s take a look at two of those reasons. We could do one hundred and two—but for our purposes this morning, let’s consider just two.

(I.) First of all, because of Easter, the Disciples found Courage.

Here’s how John related the story: “On the evening of that day (Sunday), the doors being shut where the Disciples were, for fear of their persecutors...” Those big, strong fishermen and carpenters and sword-swinging Zealots were hiding behind locked doors with the shutters closed, trembling in fear. They were saying: “Pilate murdered Jesus. Now he will come looking for us.” You know who did not react that way? The women who followed Jesus—Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, Joanna—the women. They stood fast at the foot of the Cross while all the disciples ran away. They went to the garden to anoint His body, while all the disciples were in a locked room. They were defiant in the face of Herod and Pilate and the Roman soldiers. You know the difference between the women and the disciples? The disciples were terrified; the women were grief-stricken. And those are two entirely different things.

Anyway, the story says that “on the evening of that day (Sunday), the doors being shut where the Disciples were, for fear of their persecutors, Jesus came and stood among them and said: `Peace be with you.’” And suddenly “the Disciples were glad when they saw The Lord!” They threw open the windows—they unlocked the doors—and they marched out and changed the world. They moved from cowardice to courage because a Risen Savior “came and stood among them.” Had they known the old gospel hymn back then, they would have sung it with gusto:

“Because He lives, I can face tomorrow. Because He lives, all fear is gone.”

Simon Peter went from despair on his fishing boat to being the first Bishop of Rome... Thomas went from being a doubter to being a missionary to India... Philip went from hiding out in a locked room to becoming the first evangelist to Ethiopia... James went from trembling in seclusion to serving as the head of the Church in Jerusalem... And on and on their stories go—stories of frightened men who became faithful leaders. How do you explain that apart from one powerful statement: “Jesus came and stood among them.” And suddenly—because of His ongoing presence in their lives—all fear was gone.

Not long ago Parade Magazine did an update on a nine-year-old child from Anaheim, California, who was the victim of a terrible crime and suffered third degree burns over ninety percent of his body. The update reported that he had grown up, graduated from college, and was the Senior Speaker at Commencement exercises. Doctors reported that throughout the long ordeal, the painful surgeries, the skin grafts, and especially the procedures where the little boy had to remain awake while skin was being peeled away, the child could face it all as long as his mother was in the room. If she were not there, the pain overwhelmed him, and his blood pressure spiked. But if she were simply seated in a corner where he could see her, he could endure the procedures. In his graduation speech, he said: “It is a miracle that I am here. Today, most of all, I want to thank my mother. She stayed with me step by step, and in her presence I found the courage I needed to survive.”

The disciples would have said the same about Jesus. As long as they knew He was with them, they could face whatever the world threw their way with confidence and courage. And they knew He was with them because after Easter, “Jesus came and stood among them,” even as He comes to stand with you.

(II.) Second, in addition to Courage, Easter gave the Disciples Comfort.

“Jesus came and stood among them and said, `Peace be with you.’” Prior to that moment there had been no peace—only grief, sadness, broken hearts. But suddenly the One whom they had loved and lost “came and stood among them... and the Disciples were glad when they saw The Lord!” Death had been defeated because of Easter. And that is the primary reason why Easter matters.

Sooner or later we all deal with the reality of mortality. We lose friends. We lose loved ones. We say goodbyes we were not prepared to say. We stand in locked rooms of grief with the shudders of our souls closed fast. It is only the Easter message that breaks through our darkness with the ray of hope. A Risen Lord stands beside us and whispers, “Peace be with you,” and his presence reminds us that death could not defeat him, and his promise is that death will not defeat us, either. “Because I live, you shall live also.”

A friend of mine, a minister named Oscar Dowdle, shared this story with me. It was written by a man whose grandfather, when he was small, purchased one of the first phones in Seattle. To reach a number, you simply picked up the phone and asked for Information. Then the operator would connect you to the other party. The little boy took advantage of Information, phoning the nice lady on the other end whenever he had a need. The operator’s name was Sally. When he was home alone and hit his thumb with his daddy’s hammer, he called Information and, crying, told Sally what he had done. She told him about wrapping ice in a wash cloth and holding it on the hurt, and she told him stories that shifted his attention away from his pain. When he needed to know how to spell “government” for a paper he was writing, he phoned Information, and Sally taught him the word.

Then came the day when his pet canary died and no one was home. He phoned Information. Sally answered. All she heard were sobs on the other end of the line. “Paul, is it you?” she asked.

He said “Yes,” and blubbered out his story of his lost little bird.

“Paul,” she said softly and sweetly, “remember, there are other worlds to sing in.”

As the years passed, Paul phoned Information more than anyone in town and was always greeted with courtesy and care. He and Sally had become friends. In time Paul went off to college in Boston, took a job, and rarely came back to Seattle. On his thirtieth birthday he returned, and just out of curiosity called Information. An older but still lovely and familiar voice answered. He simply said: “Can you tell me how to spell `government’?” The laughter began on the other end of the line. “Oh Paul,” she said, “you have no idea how I have missed you. I never had children of my own, but I feel like I helped you grow up. You never knew how I looked forward to your calls.”

They talked and talked, and then he left Seattle again, promising to call next time he was in town. Three months later he was there. As he promised, Paul phoned Information, but this time a new voice answered.

“Hello, this is Paul. May I speak to Sally?” he asked, and the voice replied: “Are you a friend of hers?”

“Yes,” he said, “a friend for many years.”

“I’m sorry,” said the polite voice, “but Sally died two weeks ago... Wait a minute, sir. Did you say your name was Paul?” “Yes,” he answered again, only this time with a lump in his throat.

“Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down. Wait a minute. Here it is. I’ll read it to you. Sally said: `Tell Paul there are other worlds to sing in. He’ll understand.’”

Then “Jesus came and stood among them,” and the tears of grief on the cheeks of the Disciples evaporated into smiles.

Each Tuesday in Staff Meeting, we pray for the members of this church who have lost loved ones the week before. There is a virtually never a Tuesday when we don’t have some family or spouse or loved one who needs those prayers.

Every Sunday in Worship we pray for the families of our military personnel who have died the week before. There is never a Sunday when yellow ribbons are not placed on the altar in memory of those whose lives have been taken.

And as I look at your faces, I know that most of you, almost all of you, have lost people who were irreplaceable.

“Did Easter matter?” What could possibly matter more? For because of Easter, we know that “there are other worlds to sing in.”

“Jesus came and stood among them,” and the disciples found Courage and Comfort. And that’s what we, too, find when the Resurrected Christ comes and stands with us.

Let us pray.

O Risen Jesus, may we always remember that because of Easter You are here. That matters to us, more than words can express. May we so live that through us, Your Presence will matter to others. In Your saving Name we pray. Amen.