Each year we in the church are involved in a great drama. Although the script is ancient, thousands of years old, its message is as new as today and as hopeful as tomorrow. It has been played out on countless stages throughout the world, and the story is so incredible that in spite of its constant retelling, it never grows stale, is never irrelevant. It is always fresh, always worth hearing and it always brings healing and strength.
Act I, Scene 1 of this churchwide drama began with the season of Advent as we prepared for our Lord's coming. The glorious climax of the first Scene was Christmas, the enchanting birth of the Christ-child. The second Scene of Act 1 is called "the season of Epiphany." It opened with the visitation of the wisemen and every event thereafter proceeded to reveal Jesus as the Son of God, portraying his startling ministry in our midst.
Act II followed. Its title was Lent, or the Season of Sorrows. We observed Jesus as he faced the difficult decisions which led him to Jerusalem. At Gethsemane we saw him in agony as he prayed, "Father, if it be thy will, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done." We looked on as he was arrested, ridiculed and condemned. We witnessed the darkness descending over the world as our Lord was crucified, and we felt the fury of nature when he died. Then we saw him lowered from the cross and laid in a tomb. The long and powerful Act II ended with our Lord dead, the disciples guilt-ridden and grief-stricken, and all of Jerusalem in an uproar over the events which had taken place.
Act III, Scene 1 created a totally different mood. Its brief first scene took us to an empty tomb where we learned the surprise announcement, "He is not here ... He has risen!" We listened to the shouts of joy which exploded from the mouths of Jesus' followers and echoed down the streets of Jerusalem and out into the world. We saw that some doubted, but then Jesus dropped in to see his friends; he let them touch him, and he reached out to them with a blessing of peace. The Scene closed with Jesus preparing his disciples for their ministry in the world.
At this point it is natural to feel that the drama is over, that we ought to get up from our seats, so to speak, and prepare to leave the theater. It appears that all of the significant things have happened. The Jesus story appears to have ended somewhat "happily ever after," so why stick around for the credits?
But wait a moment, Act III isn't over ... not yet. There's another scene to come! While Act III, Scene 2 is not a fireworks festival in the church it is an essential part of Jesus' ministry on Earth. As the curtain rises, we see Jesus doing a very unusual thing. Following his upper room appearance to the disciples after the resurrection, he spends the next 40 days mysteriously gliding in and out of their lives. For almost six weeks he suddenly appears before them, and then just as quickly disappears. Forty days of occasional, brief, and apparently random encounters. Why? For what purpose?
It is hard to make sense of it. One post-resurrection appearance should have been all that was needed. Certainly a second manifestation would have convinced even the most skeptical of Christ's followers. After all, seeing a man who had been murdered, and buried in a tomb for three days, now very much alive, isn't something you would likely forget!
If Jesus had used those 40 days to travel around Palestine showing up in places like Herod's palace, or Pilate's praetorium, or the Temple of Caiaphas, that would have been reasonable. He could have shown those people who really had the power and the glory. Tempting as that might have been for you or me, he didn't do that. He kept contacting the same people, ever so briefly, over and over and over again for 40 days!
Jesus simply moved in and out of the lives of his friends. For example, as two men are walking on the road to Emmaus, Jesus catches up to them, and without being recognized, accompanies them. He hears them tell about the terrible events of the past few days, of the horrible fate of the young rabbi from Nazareth; how he was unjustly condemned and crucified. On hearing this Jesus doesn't rattle them by saying, "But look, I'm Jesus and I'm not dead! See, I'm very much alive." Rather, he lets them talk. As the day comes to an end, the two men invite Jesus to stay and share a meal, and only as he prays do they suddenly become aware that he is the Christ who was dead and buried. But it seems no sooner do they recognize him, than he vanishes.
Or consider the gospel for today. Some disciples go fishing. They fish all night, catching nothing. Then a man appears on the shore instructing them to cast the nets to the other side. Suddenly their nets are full of fish. It is then that the apostle John realizes that this is Jesus risen from the dead and he cries out, "It is the Lord!" Impulsively and with joy Peter jumps into the water and swims for shore. Soon the other disciples arrive, they join in breakfast and have a wonderful time together. But as abruptly as he came, he left.
Why? What reason can there be for such behavior? Let's look at these post-resurrection appearances. They have several things in common.
First, when Jesus intercepts the lives of his friends he a)ways does so gracefully. That is, he doesn't disrupt their lives by making spectacular entrances or by half scaring the wits out of them. Rather, he flows in and out of their lives with remarkable ease, always showing love and compassion.
Secondly, he stays with his hosts for only as long as he senses they have a need for him. Then he disappears quietly. Indeed, these appearances became so natural that the apostles soon start taking them for granted. We know because the writer of the book of Acts states that Jesus continued to appear and disappear for 40 days, yet the biblical writers have recorded only the initial visitations; apparently they became so common that they were no longer newsworthy!
A third characteristic is that Jesus always let people discover for themselves who he was. In other words, he never forced himself on people, never made a big deal about his presence. So gentle and natural were his arrivals that his followers sometimes had to "concentrate" to be aware of his nearness.
In light of this evidence it seems Jesus was using the principle of repetition to impress on his disciples that he could move in and out of their lives, effortlessly at will. He was saying, "I am always near you. Always. I can come to you at a moment's notice. Indeed, I may appear before you at any time; in whatever situation you may find yourself, I am never far from you." For 40 days the disciples experienced the ever-possible presence of the Lord, so that even when he was not visible it felt as though he were there. They never knew for sure when he would appear, but they expected him at any time, knowing that in the twinkling of an eye, he could be there, standing with them.
With that lesson learned, the disciples were able to accept fearlessly the challenge of spreading the gospel in a hostile world. They faced the lion's hungry jaws and gladiators' fearful spears, with songs of praise to God because they knew Christ was with them. They knew it, knew he could appear at a moment's notice. They lived faithfully in the truth of Jesus' final words, "Lo, I am with you always." Those were not mere words of hope, they composed a promise, a promise which had been fortified by the experiences of 40 days. Act III, Scene 2, what a beautiful way Christ chose to impress on his followers that he was always near them.
As Act IV begins, we see that God's drama in the world has not come to an end. This long scene began as the Holy Spirit gripped the disciples and inspired them to give their lives for the glory of God and for the benefit of all Christians to follow. Act IV continues as the risen Christ still visits his people to be close to them, to minister to their needs, to support them in their struggles, to equip and strengthen them for Christian service. The work of Christ goes on and will go on until he comes again.
The good news for us is that Jesus' promise of presence was not meant only for his friends in the dim and dusty past. His promise was intended for all of his disciples in all times and places. It was meant also for you and me. True, he doesn't materialize in front of us, but we sense he is here. Inwardly we know he is near. We are not able to touch him, but he can and has touched us. True to form, Jesus comes to us just as he appeared so long ago to his friends. That is, he flows in and out of our lives so naturally that unless we take time for meditation and quietness, we may not even know that he has come.
That truth was experienced even by Elijah of Old Testament. He expected the Lord to make a big fuss when appearing to him at Mount Horeb. But the Bible says, "Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake, and after the earth quake was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence (1 Kings 19:1 1b-12)." The sheer silence, that was the Lord! The RSV translates God's presence as, "a still small voice." The point is, God doesn't overpower us but comes with quiet peace to captivate our hearts.
Most comforting is the knowledge that our Lord comes to us when we need him most. Even then he doesn't announce his presence, or shock us into recognition. He comes to us in quietness: in the hollows of grief; the soundless, emptiness of anxiety, the silent trembling of guilt. But he comes. He comes. The truth is, he may slip into your life at this very moment - or the next. You cannot predict his visitations. But your awareness can be sensitized by practicing the presence of God. You can live in the awareness of our Lord's nearness through faithful prayer and by envisioning him with you.
That discipline is poignantly illustrated in the oft told story of an old man who suddenly became gravely ill. When the pastor came for a visit he noticed a chair beside the bed. "Oh my goodness," he said, "You must have already had company today."
The old man said, "No, but let me tell you the story of the chair. Years ago I told a friend that when I prayed at night I frequently fell asleep right in the middle, or I just couldn't concentrate on what I was praying about. So this friend suggested that I put a chair by my bed and imagine that Jesus was sitting there because, you know, he's promised to be with us. So, I started doing that and, you know, it made a big difference. Sometimes I even think I see him sitting there."
After having communion with the man, the pastor left. Later that evening he got a call from the daughter. She said, "Dad just died. Can you come over?" So the pastor went to see her. The daughter said, "You know, I was in the room and dad seemed okay, he wasn't struggling or anything. I left for just a minute. When I came back, he had peacefully died. But there was something quite strange. Somehow, he had managed to turn over on his side and stretch out his arm and place his hand on the chair."
That's living in the presence of Christ. And it happens. It can happen for you, as it can happen for me, at any time. Oh, not to all in the same way, because Christ comes to each of us individually and uniquely. But in solitude and need he will come. He will come because he has promised! Amen.