“The Salvation of Your Souls”
John 20:19-31 [Gospel Lesson]
1 Peter 1:3-9 [Teaching Lesson]
Easter, without question, is the greatest event that has ever happened that is the focal point of all history. Every time you write down a date you are using the resurrection of Jesus Christ as the reference point. When you write down the year 2026, you mean 2026 years from what? Well, you obviously mean 2026 years from the event that we are still celebrating today on this Second Sunday of Easter [every Sunday is to be considered a mini-Easter]—the fact that the tomb is still empty and Jesus is still alive.
In my last church I had a member who called himself the “crazy old goat.” When he sent me an email or some type of correspondence, that how he signed it, The Crazy Old Goat. He was also famous for claiming that he came along in the BC era: before computers.
But we must ask the question—why is Easter so special? Why do over a billion people celebrate Easter around the world every year? Because the resurrection of Jesus Christ showed that Jesus was indeed the Son of God, because only He could have come back from the dead.
For my Easter message I preached from Paul’s letter to the Colossians where he wrote: “Since, then, you have been raised with Christ” [Colossians 3:1]. In this teaching lesson from Peter’s first letter, who, incidentally, was an eyewitness to the events of that first Easter, he writes: Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” [1 Peter 1:3].
This “living hope” that Peter writes of is not an ordinary hope that we have such as: “I hope to win the lottery,” or “I hope I can make this 80 ft. putt for an eagle.” That’s just wishful thinking.
I’m reminded of the second-grade teacher who asked her class, “What is the definition of hope?” One little boy, probably named Johnny said, “Hope is wishing for something you know you ain’t gonna happen.”
Well, we’re talking about a “living hope” that never dies. We’re told that because of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, we have the most prized possession in the world—hope. Someone has observed you can live forty days without food, eight days without water, four minutes without air, but not one second without hope. Easter gives us hope and great expectations!
Peter also writes: “Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy.” Where do you suppose he heard something like that?
If you answered, “From our Gospel Lesson this morning you would be right.” Jesus said to Thomas, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” [John 20:29].
In review, on that first Easter the disciples were gathered in the Upper Room. Their whole world had come crashing down on them just a couple days before. These are the guys who gave up everything to follow Jesus. Why? I don’t think it was His teaching that stirred them, I don’t think it was His preaching nor His parables—since most people couldn’t figure out what He was trying to say anyway. I don’t think it was the healings—or the feedings—or the miracles. I think they continued to follow Jesus because they got a glimpse of who He really was—the Messiah—the Son of God—the Christ.
Anyway, on that first Easter Sunday afternoon they were locked in the Upper Room for fear of their lives; because the authorities—both Jewish and Roman—had killed their friend and leader and they just naturally figured they would be next. All that is, except Thomas, who, for reasons unknown had decided to go for a walk or make a trip to Starbucks.
Not going to get into that whole “Doubting Thomas” thing because I think he got a bad rap. Sure, he doubted the report from the disciples that Jesus had been there, but he never doubted Jesus—evident from the next time Jesus showed up. Who could blame him for doubting the disciples?
Anyway, there they are, all huddled together, and Jesus just magically appears. He’s in the same body—He still has the nail marks in His hands, His feet and His side. But now it would seem that He has the power to go through walls—to appear and disappear at will—this is something new.
I like to ponder that, for Jesus to breathe on them—or anybody—they’ve got to be standing close—right next to Him. Does this mean that discipleship is sticking as close to Jesus as possible—close enough to feel His breath?
For thirty years—Peter—the former professional fishermen had been fishing for men. And he has not lost his enthusiasm for the work of the Gospel. This is a letter to the churches in what is now Turkey. The letter would have been passed from one congregation to the next. Some believe that Peter wrote this letter somewhere around 64 A.D. (Jesus died in 33 A.D.). At that time, the vast Roman Empire was ruled by Nero, who reigned from 54-68 A.D.
Nero was a terrible name among Christians—and with good reason. Nero would hold evening dinner parties at his residence and for lighting he would light a prisoner (usually a Christian) on fire and wrap their body around a pole. In 64 A.D two-thirds of Rome was burned by a horrific fire—many people thought Nero himself was responsible. Needing a scapegoat Nero blamed the Christians. So the empire began persecuting Christians which led to the destruction of the Temple in 70 A.D. Tradition has it that both Peter and Paul died as martyrs under the rule of Nero.
So, Peter is writing to encourage people who are being persecuted—people who are suffering—people who live in fear. But rather than focusing on their persecution, he focuses on God’s promises. Rather than focusing on their trials, he
focuses on their future triumphs.
Joy inexpressible? What strange language to use with people who are undergoing all kinds of trouble and tribulation. Joy inexpressible? What a strange expression for people who are trembling behind locked doors. Joy inexpressible? What are we missing here? How can we have joy inexpressible when our world is being torn apart?
A lot of eyes will be on Georgia today, specifically for the final round of the Masters Golf Tournament. I’ve never been on those hallowed grounds for the tournament, but I’ve read about the Masters Badge that you have to have to get in. I read somewhere that there have been no public sales of the Masters Badge since 1972. There is a 20-year waiting list just to get in on the privilege of buying a badge, but now even the waiting list has been closed.
Guess what? You don’t have to have a Masters Badge to get into heaven, but you do have to have The Masters badge to get into heaven! Allow me to give you some good news about this badge. It has already been paid for be the blood of Jesus Christ. It’s available to everyone free of charge if you will just receive the One who paid for the badge—the resurrected Lord.
There’s something different about this inheritance that even Augusta National cannot claim. Nothing can destroy it, nothing can defile it, nothing can displace it.
In closing, there’s a story by an unknown author circulating around the Internet that reflects the outlook of Peter’s letters to the churches in Turkey. It’s about a little boy who is about to have open heart surgery.
“Tomorrow morning,” the surgeon began, “I’ll open up your heart….” “You’ll find Jesus there,” the boy interrupted.
The surgeon looked up, annoyed. “I’ll cut your heart open,” he continued, “to see how much damage has been done…” “But when you open up my heart,” said his young patient, “you’ll find Jesus in there.”
The surgeon looked to the parents, who sat quietly. “When I see how much damage has been done, I’ll sew your heart and chest back up and I’ll plan what to do next.” “But you’ll find Jesus in my heart,” the young boy insisted. “The Bible says He lives there. The hymns all say He lives there. You’ll find Him in my heart.”
The surgeon had had enough. “I’ll tell you what I’ll find in your heart,” he said coldly. “I’ll find damaged muscle, low blood supply, and weakened vessels. And I’ll find out if I can make you well.”
“You’ll find Jesus there too,” the young fella continued. “He lives there.” The surgeon left.
The surgeon sat in his office recording notes from the surgery, “Damaged aorta, damaged pulmonary vein, widespread muscle degeneration. No hope for transplant, no hope for cure. Therapy: painkillers and bed rest. Prognosis,” here he paused, “death within one year.”
He stopped the recorder, but there was more to be said. “Why?” he asked out loud. It was clear that he was speaking to God. “Why did you do this? You’ve put him hear—you’ve put him in this pain—and you’ve cursed him to an early death. Why?”
The surgeon’s tears were hot, but his anger was hotter. “You created that boy, and you created that heart. He’ll be dead in months. Why? And thus a dialogue began between the surgeon and God. And in that dialogue this frustrated physician discovered a new understanding of God’s providence and love. The surgeon wept.
Now he sat beside the boy’s bed—the boy’s parents sat across from him. The boy woke up and whispered, “Did you cut open my heart?” “Yes,” said the surgeon. “What did you find?” asked the boy. “I found Jesus there,” said the surgeon.
In times of persecution and suffering—in times of grief and stress—when it all comes down to it, we have only one place to turn, and that is the power of the indwelling Christ. If there isn’t at the heart of the universe a heart of love—then nothing else matters.
Eastman First Methodist Church 