Resurrection from Fear

SCRIPTURE TEXT:  John 20:19-23 

Rev. Monte Marshall

This is the season for telling resurrection stories. It’s a time for celebrating all the ways in which resurrection is possible in our lives, moving us from despair to hope, from darkness to light, from death to life.    

This morning we’re telling stories about what life looks like when we’re resurrected from fear.  Let’s pray: God of the empty tomb, roll away the stones that prevent us from beholding your glory.  Unlock our capacity for resurrection.  Accept our intentions to live in your liberating love and empower us with your grace.  We open the doors of our lives to your healing, inspiring and sustaining Spirit, as we pray in the name of the One who is our threshold to new life. Amen. 

Fear is a primal human emotion, rooted in our instinct for survival.  Fear is our response to danger.  As human beings, we fear scarcity—too few resources—too little love, time, money, everything; and we fear predators—enemies—who would snatch us away and do us harm. Fear can motivate and energize, but fear can also paralyze. 

One commentator observes that “Fear is widespread in our society…. some politicians deliberately provoke fear of terrorism, Muslims, Mexicans, refugees, LGBT people, etc.  Other people are legitimately afraid of nuclear weapons, climate disruption, economic collapse, etc.  Some of us are afraid of taking bolder steps in working for peace and social justice. 

“Fear—even well justified fear—can cause people to feel powerless and dissuade them from taking thoughtful and constructive action.  At a time when thoughtful and humane boldness is needed, fear holds people back.”1 

Aung San Suu Kyi, political activist, prisoner, and recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize, said this: “The only real prison is fear, and the only real freedom is freedom from fear.”2 

Well, did we notice?  This morning’s resurrection story from John’s gospel begins with fear.  It was the evening of that first Easter Sunday.  Mary Magdalene had seen the risen Christ and reported it to the disciples.  Peter and the beloved disciple had seen the empty tomb.  

But the followers of Jesus weren’t dancing in the streets.  They weren’t boldly bearing witness.  They weren’t picking up where Jesus had left off in his ministry of unconditional love and justice in the world.   

Instead, these followers of Jesus were huddled together behind locked doors cowering in fear.  They were afraid of the Temple authorities who had conspired with the Romans to crucify Jesus.  They were afraid that their names were now on the Most Wanted list. 

But then, the story says, the risen Christ appeared to them with the marks of his suffering still visible on his person.  And he gave them what they needed to overcome their fear:  He spoke peace to them—not once but twice.  He rekindled their joy.  He sent them out into the world, as God had sent him.  He gifted them with divine power as he breathed on them and said:  “Receive the Holy Spirit.”  And he gave them a mission to serve as agents of forgiveness and reconciliation in the world. 

Now the fact that we are here today as an Easter people is evidence that those first followers of the risen Christ were indeed resurrected from their fear.  They burst forth from behind those locked doors to proclaim the good news of God’s unconditional love and justice throughout the world.   

We are there heirs and the risen Christ with us still!  So resurrection stories are still being written.  Greg Boyle has a resurrection story to tell. In fact, you can read about Greg’s story is a book called G-Dog and the Homeboys.   

 Greg is a Jesuit priest in the Catholic Church.  He grew up in Los Angeles, California.  After serving several years in Bolivia as the parish priest of a small rural village, Greg returned to the U. S. in July, 1986, at the age of 32.  He was assigned to pastor a poor, Hispanic congregation, the Delores Mission Church, in East L. A.   

His first year on the job was tense and difficult.  The folks in the neighborhood were suspicious of this Anglo priest.  People stayed away from him, so he decided to go to them.  He spent hours every afternoon walking through the neighborhood and visiting the housing projects where most of his parishioners lived.  He interacted with them and in the process, he learned of their greatest concern:  gangs.  As author Celeste Fremon writes:  “Not only were the gangs at war with each other, the community was at war with the gangs.”3 

So what did Greg do?  Well, he certainly didn’t cower in fear behind locked doors.  Instead, he reached out to the gangsters.  He made an effort to get to know them. He learned their names.  At first, they laughed at him and hassled him when they saw him on the streets.  ‘It was the kind of experience,’ Greg says, ‘that is calculated to make you feel insecure and stupid.  I spent a lot of time in those days feeling very insecure and stupid.’”4   

Fremon writes: “If the gangsters weren’t hassling Greg, they were avoiding him, assuming that any white man in the barrio must be an undercover cop.  On one occasion Greg visited the house of a parishioner who turned out to be the grandmother of a gang member, a Crip.  As Greg was chatting with the older woman, an enormous twenty-year-old suddenly loomed at the front door.  Although the kid knew who Greg was, he assumed the priest was snitching to the police, so, bellowing viciously, barreled straight for him.  ‘With obvious intent to inflict bodily harm,’ adds Greg.  The grandmother leaped between Greg and the gangster, giving Greg just enough time to retreat out the back door. 

“But bright and early the next morning, Greg went back to the gang member’s house.  ‘I knew it was like the proverbial fall from a horse,’ he explains.  ‘If you don’t go back right away, you’ll never go back at all.  I would tell myself, ‘No matter what happens, I’m going to walk out there every day.’”5  And he did. 

Today, Greg Boyle is internationally known as “the gang priest.”6  Fear has not kept him behind locked doors in safety and security.  He has followed the Risen Christ into the world of poverty, violence and gangs.  And his efforts have transformed lives. Homeboy Industries is but one example of his work to provide employment and business opportunities for gang-involved youth.   And his church has been bold right along with him! 

So for those of us cowering in fear behind locked doors—either literally or figuratively—at a time when “thoughtful and humane boldness is needed,” hear the liberating good news: Christ is risen!  Christ is risen, indeed!  Alleluia!  No matter how fearful we may feel, God has plans for us—plans for light and life!  Can our lives be turned around? Can we find new life when everything feels lifeless? Can light shine in what feels like an empty tomb?  The answer is YES, YES, YES!  Then our stories—then each story—can be a resurrection story.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.