John 20:19-23 "Just Dance"

         Back in the days when the Beach Boys sang how Midwestern farmers’ daughters and northern girls in general could not hold a candle to the young women who lived in California (that sunshine-y, almost magical place I had never been) and when they crooned about surfer girls (which I never was) in their bikinis (which Imy mother never let me wear) with their undoubtedly long blond California hair (which I never had), back in those days this New Jersey teenaged girl’s favorite movie was “The Endless Summer”.

         The film was a quasi-documentary with dreamy summery theme music and an awesome poster about two young men who navigated all around the world searching for the perfect surfing wave.  The duo traveled a full twelve months, with money apparently no object.  They began in California (of course), swung through Australia and New Zealand, stopped in Hawaii and Tahiti, ending up in Senegal and South Africa. 

         I do not remember exactly where they found their perfect wave, but I do remember one line from the film.  “You should have been here yesterday.”  The surfers were told on several occasions that they had just missed it!  Not long ago, the locals assured them, the weather had been perfect, the beach had been perfect, the water had been perfect, and, most importantly, the waves had been perfect.  You should have been here yesterday!

         I am reminded of that line now that we are post-Easter here in church.  You should have been here on April 1st!  Two weeks ago, it was a perfect morning:  The flowers were perfect, the music was perfect, the message was perfect.  You should have been here on Easter!  We belted out the Hallelujah Chorus.  We breathed in the sweet fragrance of lilies.  Some of us even wore our colorful spring clothes. 

         And most every one of us fairly danced our way out of this very sanctuary – so filled with the news of the resurrection were we!  Derek Hough, Patrick Swayze, and Fred Astaire had nothing on us.  You should have been here on Easter!  It was perfect!

         But here we are – a mere two weeks later – back in own real and exceedingly imperfect world again:  The same old President stirring up the same old bad feelings and fears with his latest tweets, the same old marriage with its myriad problems, the same old job, the same old tangled and complex family issues. Though the church considers Easter not simply a day, but rather a seven-week season, we are hard-pressed to keep up the celebration for even a short time.

         In that regard, we are not unlike the disciples who huddled in an upper room behind locked doors in Jerusalem post-Easter, post-resurrection news.  Like us, in spite of the women’s cries of “He is risen”, the only dance the little band of followers were capable of was a dance of quiet desperation. 

         Lutheran pastor William Flippin describes the scene this way:  “I can imagine them sweating profusely and can even see some occasionally checking the doorknob to see that it was locked. Other disciples might have been looking out of a peephole or a window because…they were now fugitives because their beloved leader, Jesus, has been executed…by the means of crucifixion.

         The disciples fear the Roman and religious authorities that murdered Jesus would possibly murder them for being associated with this radical, itinerant preacher from Galilee. Their messianic hopes have dissolved into mere survival, coupled by utter confusion and calamity.” 

         What had they been thinking these past three years?  Not only did they fear for their own skins now, but they must also have concluded that they had been duped.  Here they had given three years of their lives – left homes and families and, if not well-paying, at least reasonably steady incomes - to follow this man who had turned out to be a fraud. 

         Jesus’ words had been so revolutionary.  The disciples had been swept in, convinced that he was the Messiah who would lead all of Israel in a complete overthrow of the oppressive Roman imperialist domination system.  This charismatic preacher, along with his fervent hope for a better world, had been little more than a charlatan.    

         Now all they had to show for their efforts was a dead rabbi, a stolen body, a cockamamie story from a couple of women, Jerusalem in an uproar, and, worst of all, them fearing for their own lives.  Thanks a lot, Jesus!  No wonder they huddled, sweating in the heat, behind locked doors. 

         It was in the midst of that wretched scene, of course, that the Risen Christ showed up.  The locked door did not keep him out.  Nothing could keep him out. 

         What did the disciples think – they who knew they were little more than a ragtag bunch of nobodies, they who realized they were merely cowards, they who wondered now if they had lost their souls when they had chosen to save their skins on that black day of crucifixion?  Did they feel ashamed?  Did they fear Jesus’ presence? 

         Who knows?  The Gospel writer does not tell us because maybe the Gospel writer knew it really did not matter how the disciples initially felt.

         What mattered was that Jesus showed them his wounds and scars.  What mattered was that Jesus was not angry with them.  What mattered was that he did not yell at them and tell them they were the poorest excuse for human beings that he had ever seen. What mattered was that he did not condemn them or belittle them or berate them. 

         What mattered was that he offered them the age-old Jewish greeting of love and reconciliation:  “Peace be with you.”  Shalom. Peace.  Do not be afraid.  Everything is going to be all right.  You are not alone.  I am here to dance with you.

         And then to prove his point, the Risen Christ took a deep cleansing breath and exhaled.  He breathed the Holy Spirit upon all of the men and women gathered in that stifling hot upper room. 

         And suddenly the air felt cool and clean again, and there was the faintest odor of lilies.  For an instant, they were sure they heard music, and the stories of King David long ago dancing with wild abandon before God flitted across their minds.  They could not help it, but their feet started tapping just a little bit too.  It was perfect!

         And then Jesus sent them out into the world to continue to dance the work that he had begun with them – to offer forgiveness, to preach reconciliation, to be peacemakers, to welcome the unwelcome, to heal, and, most of all, to love – all the time, of course, trusting that they were not alone in their ministry.  After all, they had been filled with the Holy Spirit, and so with the rhythm of the dance that Jesus offered them also came the pulsing beat of power and purpose. 

         In breathing upon them the Holy Spirit and sending them forth into the world, Jesus told them it was their time to dance – dances of freedom, dances of justice, dances of hope.  He told them:  “Dance, dance, wherever you may be.  I am the Lord of the Dance, said he.  I’ll lead you all wherever you may be.  I’ll lead you all in the dance, said he.”

         From wallflowers to dancers, from hopelessness to joy:  Suddenly the disciples had something to live for again.  They had peace.  They had power.  They had purpose.  In short, they had every reason in the world to dare to dance again.

         And so it is with us.  We too have every reason in the world to dare to dance post-Easter.  We too have every reason for our feet to start tapping.  Here are just three reasons.

          First, just as Jesus met the disciples where they were – huddled in a dark and fear-filled upper room down some back alley in the Holy City, so Jesus meets us wherever we are too – in whatever dark and fear-filled room down whatever back alley of our lives we have decided to hang out in.  And he is already extending his hand, pulling us to our feet, declaring that we shall be wallflowers, sitting on the sidelines in doubt and fear, no longer, daring us to dance again.

        One blogger I read this past week wrote:  “You can depend on the fact that when you begin to doubt and fear – whether this week, or next week, or a decade from now — the risen Christ will not stay away from you. You can put as many locks and dead bolts on the door as you like, but the risen Christ will come to you anyway. Your doubts will not keep him at bay.

         Into our bomb shelters, into our doubts and disbelief, just when we’re sure that this time, the sky is really falling: the Risen Christ appears to us. He walks right into the midst of us: with arms outstretched, bearer of peace, vanquisher of death, the champion of heaven.  He promises to come and to come again, one more time, and another time after that, as many times as it takes.  As long as you and I have need, he comes.”  Even in doubt, even in fear, he comes – and invites us to dare to dance.  And isn’t that a reason to accept the invitation?

         Second, – or perhaps it is a corollary to that first reason to dare to dance again  - the Risen Christ will always find us.  A locked door will not keep him out.  As Episcopal priest Michael Marsh proclaims:  “Jesus’ tomb is open and empty but the disciples’ house is closed and the doors locked tight. The house has become their tomb. Jesus is on the loose and the disciples are bound in fear.

         The disciples have separated themselves and their lives from the reality of Jesus’ resurrection. Their doors of faith have been closed…They have locked out Mary Magdalene’s words of faith, hope, and love. They left the empty tomb of Jesus and entered their own tombs of fear, doubt, and blindness…They have locked themselves in. The doors of our tombs are always locked from the inside.” 

         And yet, Jesus manages to break through those doors.  He is in the business of unlocking locks and unsealing tombs – even ours, even today.  And when he finds us hidden away, Jesus offers us peace to overcome the fears we carry – the fears of mass shootings, of the impact of trade wars and tariffs, of a military response to Russia and Syria, of an unpredictable President. Jesus offers us shalom – wholeness and healing for our fraught relationships – with our families, with our coworkers, with our neighbors.  

         When the time comes – as it always does – to live the resurrection – to live the hope and promise of new life and personal transformation – and instead we want to stay in bed and pull the covers over our heads and close out the world and lock ourselves away, Jesus finds us.  He will not let us imprison ourselves in that way.  He invites us to dare to dance.  And isn’t that a reason to accept the invitation?

         Third, a final reason to dare to dance again is the realization that the Risen Christ seldom comes to individuals (Mary in the garden being the sole exception).  The Risen Christ comes to people who are committed to gathering together in community – and that would be the church. 

         The breath of the Risen Christ  - the Holy Spirit – swirls around here – right here in this place – empowering us for ministry, giving us a purpose great than ourselves, sending us forth not only on big excursions like to Maine Seacoast Mission, but also sending us forth simply to our homes and jobs where we re called to embody, with God’s help of course, all that Jesus was and all that he stood for. 

Jesus says that we are better off daring to dance as a church family than daring to dance alone.  And isn’t that a reason to accept the invitation?

         So - yes – you should have been here on Easter – because it was perfect.  However, it is even better that you are here today to feel the rhythm and to get your feet tapping, so that you will dare to dance again – as Easter people – in his name.