Latest revision as of 18:16, 28 April 2025

Theological Proposition/Focus: The overwhelming grace of the Gospel transforms our fear into peace and empowers us to fulfill our calling through the Holy Spirit.

Christ Focus: This passage points to Christ as the ultimate source of peace and empowerment. His resurrection confirms His authority to forgive sins and send His followers into the world, fulfilling the promise of the Gospel that has been woven throughout Scripture.

Homiletical Proposition/Application: Despite life's trials, the Gospel provides the peace and empowerment needed to face any situation. It emphasizes that God's grace can transform feelings of fear and inadequacy into boldness and confidence through the Holy Spirit.

Introduction

Need: We have many things that could make us anxious, but we can live without anxiety, instead choosing to focus on the mission.

Preview: We are called to have tranquility knowing our Savior is imminent, has given us a responsibility while providing camaraderie and placing us on mission.

Text: John 20:19-23 is read at the beginning.

Setting the Stage:

We have been walking through the crucifixion and resurrection as presented in the book of John. Last week, we looked carefully at Mary Magdalene, and today we are going to carefully explore the disciples.

Body

Tranquility — Jesus calls for his followers to have peace (19).

Jesus enters the locked room where the disciples are hiding in fear. This reflects our lives when we lock ourselves away due to anxiety. By presenting His peace and presence, Christ shows that no barrier can separate us from His love and grace. In moments of distress, His presence can transform fear into peace, underscoring the Gospel's promise of peace.

The world we live in has much that we could worry about.

The world we live in is filled with uncertainty, anxiety, and no shortage of reasons to be afraid. In John 20:19, we find the disciples gathered together in the evening, behind locked doors, gripped by fear of the Jewish leaders. Pause with me and imagine that moment. Just days earlier, they had watched their Teacher—someone they had followed, loved, and believed in—be arrested, tortured, and brutally executed. Some of them had nearly been arrested themselves. Yes, Jesus had risen, and yes, that changes everything—but let's not overlook the trauma they were still carrying. The resurrection was real, but so was the pain. The wounds on Jesus' body may have been glorified, but they were still visible—and I believe the scars in the disciples' hearts were just as present. This moment in the locked room reminds us: faith doesn't mean the absence of fear, but the presence of Jesus in the midst of it.

We live in a similarly broken and chaotic world. I won't sugarcoat it—our world is marked by war, disease, injustice, and deep sorrow. But it is precisely into this brokenness that Jesus brings restoration. In fact, one of the themes woven throughout the Gospel of John is the arrival of New Creation through Christ. Just as Genesis begins with creation on the first day, John's Gospel culminates with a resurrection on a Sunday, the first day of the week—God's signal that He is beginning again. Several scholars have noted that John is intentionally showing us that the resurrection isn't just the happy ending to Jesus' story—it's the start of a new world.

Think of The Hunger Games, where the Capitol resets the calendar after its victory, using each passing year to reinforce fear and control through the Games. It's a chilling reminder of who holds the power. But in stunning contrast, when Jesus rose from the dead, history experienced a reset of an entirely different kind. The early church began gathering not on the traditional Sabbath, but on Sunday—the very day Christ emerged from the tomb. It wasn't just a scheduling change; it was a declaration. A new covenant had begun. A new humanity had been launched. While the Capitol's calendar was built on fear, the church's new rhythm was built on hope, freedom, and resurrection life.

John subtly underscores this point. He draws attention to the fact that the disciples' encounter with the risen Christ takes place on Sunday, the first day of the week. This is no throwaway detail—it's the first day of the rest of their lives, and indeed the first day of a New Creation. And just as Jesus steps into that locked room and breathes peace over His frightened followers, He continues to step into our locked-down hearts and anxious minds today, bringing peace, purpose, and the power of resurrection life.

But Jesus does not leave us abandoned.

One of the things that impresses me about Jesus is that even though His work is done, He is not Himself done. Think about it, in John 19:30, Jesus declared that it is finished. However, Jesus did not just sit down and relax after finishing. Here we see that Jesus enters the room. Jesus enters back into the lives of the disciples.

John is careful to tell us that the door is closed, or as you might even translate it, locked. Why would John care so much about this fact? I think the answer is that John wants us to realize that even a locked door is not going to stop Jesus. Jesus cared for His disciples, and He cared enough to meet them personally.

This first Sunday service hardly started as a victorious celebration as we see the disciples cowering in fear, but the presence of Jesus would change everything.

Here is the thing: just as the disciples are not alone, the same is true for us today. We are not alone. In fact, Jesus promised that even in His physical absence, He would be providing the Holy Spirit.

John 14:15-18 states, "If you love me, keep my commands. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to help you and be with you forever—the Spirit of Truth. The world cannot accept him because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you. I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you."

We have a lot to worry about in the world, but we are not alone. Jesus showed up for His disciples, and He has provided us with His Spirit.

And so we can face the troubles of the world with a disposition of peace and tranquility.

The presence of Jesus is incredibly important, but the words of Jesus when He enters the room are incredible. Jesus states, "Peace be with you!" This was a traditional Jewish greeting but now carries far more significance. To better understand the greeting of Jesus, let's look at the word Shalom.

The Hebrew word shalom (שָׁלוֹם) is one of the most well-known and rich words in the Hebrew language, and its meaning goes far beyond the simple translation of "peace."

Root Meaning

"Shalom" comes from the root שָׁלַם (sh-l-m), which conveys the idea of completeness, wholeness, or soundness. From this root, we also get related words like:

Shalem (שָׁלֵם) - meaning "whole" or "complete."

So, at its core, shalom is not merely the absence of conflict, but the presence of wholeness, harmony, and well-being in every area—spiritually, relationally, socially, and physically.

Biblical Usage

In the Bible, shalom is used in a wide variety of contexts:

• Personal well-being: "You shall go to your fathers in peace [shalom]" (Genesis 15:15)
• Right relationships: It can refer to peaceful relations between people or nations.
• Covenant blessing: It's a word tied closely to God's covenant and His intention to restore things to the way they ought to be.
• Messianic hope: Prophets like Isaiah spoke of the Messiah as the "Prince of Peace" (Sar Shalom) in Isaiah 9:6, pointing to a future of restored shalom for the world.

Shalom points toward God's ultimate plan of redemption—restoring brokenness in creation, reconciling people to Himself, and bringing all things under the lordship of Christ. Jesus, in this light, is the fulfillment of true shalom.

The greeting here that Jesus uses is less of a greeting and more of a declaration.

Image: The Garden of Eden and Shalom

In the Garden of Eden, before the Fall, we find a wonderful picture of shalom—a world in perfect harmony. Humanity lived at peace with God, with one another, with creation, and even within themselves. Adam and Eve walked with God in the cool of the day (Genesis 3:8), unashamed and unafraid (Genesis 2:25). There was no death, no conflict, no toil—only wholeness, abundance, and joyful purpose. The ground brought forth food without pain, and work was meaningful, not burdensome (Genesis 2:15). This is the kind of peace Scripture speaks of when it talks about shalom—not merely the absence of conflict but the presence of completeness, blessing, and right relationships. Though that shalom was broken by sin (Genesis 3), the Bible tells the story of God's work to restore it, ultimately through Jesus, "the Prince of Peace" (Isaiah 9:6), who came to reconcile all things to Himself (Colossians 1:19-20) and one day will bring about a new creation where perfect shalom reigns again (Revelation 21:1-4).

MTR: Remind yourself that you can have peace.

Immanency — The call to peace is not made from an ivory tower (20).

Consider the disciples' joy upon seeing the resurrected Jesus and understanding that He is indeed alive. This should remind us that recognizing Christ's resurrection allows us to experience a deep, abiding joy that is unaffected by external circumstances. His victory over death becomes our source of unwavering joy, an important aspect of the Gospel's transformative power.

Image: The ivory tower

Have you ever had a so-called ivory tower experience? You know, where someone who has no real-world experience implements something from a theory that completely crashes?

One classic example is the early design of the Ford Edsel in the late 1950s. Ford Motor Company poured enormous resources into developing the car, relying heavily on market research conducted by analysts and executives far removed from everyday car buyers. In theory, it was a perfect plan—every feature was based on data, trends, and expert opinion. But in practice, the Edsel was a commercial disaster. It was overpriced, stylistically off-putting, and poorly timed for the market. The disconnect lay in the fact that decisions were being made in corporate and academic circles without really listening to the actual needs, preferences, and emotions of ordinary consumers. It became a textbook case in business schools of how knowledge and planning—divorced from the real world—can lead to failure. The Edsel's story reminds us that expertise must stay grounded in human experience to be effective.

In the case of Jesus, He does not sit in an ivory tower disconnected from the real world.

The Jesus who calls for peace is the same Jesus who lived, walked, and died as a man.

The greeting "Peace be with you" is filled with symbolism, and we have talked about that, so the actions Jesus took are filled with symbolism as well.

Jesus shows His disciples His hands and side. On the surface, the wounds identify Jesus as the same man who died earlier, but I think there is even more at work here. Jesus has just declared peace, and now He reminds the disciples of the reason this peace is possible.

Isaiah 53:5 states, "But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed."

But here is the thing: the wounds of Jesus also demonstrate that Jesus really was a man. This was really important in the early church.

In the early centuries of the church, both Docetism and Gnosticism promoted the idea that Jesus was not truly a physical human being. Docetism—from the Greek word dokein, meaning "to seem"—taught that Jesus only appeared to have a physical body but was, in reality, purely divine and immaterial. This view arose from the belief that a holy God could not inhabit corrupt physical matter. Gnosticism, a broader and more complex movement, similarly rejected the idea that the divine Christ could have taken on real flesh. Rooted in dualistic thinking that saw the material world as evil and the spiritual as good, Gnostics often portrayed Jesus as a heavenly figure who only seemed to be human or temporarily "borrowed" a physical form. Both views directly contradicted the New Testament's insistence that Jesus came "in the flesh" (John 1:14; 1 John 4:2-3) and undermined the truth of the incarnation, the crucifixion, and the resurrection—each of which depends on the reality of Christ's humanity.

But Jesus really lived a physical life!

A key passage in Hebrews that speaks directly to Jesus experiencing the struggles of life is Hebrews 4:15.

Hebrews 4:15 NIV

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin.

This verse powerfully affirms that Jesus, though divine, fully shared in the human experience—facing temptation, weakness, and suffering. He is not distant or aloof, but empathetic and present, having walked the path of human struggle Himself.

Another important passage is Hebrews 2:17-18.

Hebrews 2:17-18 NIV

For this reason, he had to be made like them, fully human in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.

These verses are central to the book's message: Jesus truly became human, not just in appearance, but in the full reality of life, suffering, and temptation—so He could be our faithful mediator and helper.

The Jesus who calls for peace is the same Jesus who calls you friend and brother or sister.

The scar-filled presence of Jesus declares victory over death itself, and the disciples respond with joy.

Here is the thing we need to understand: the disciples were personally close with Jesus. He really was their friend. Jesus offers this relationship to each of us. Jesus does not call us to shalom from an ivory tower; Jesus calls us to shalom from having been right with us in the broken world.

MTR: Take your anxieties to Jesus knowing that He knows what it is to be human.

Responsibility — Peace does not mean you have no responsibility (21).

Jesus commissions His disciples with His own peace. As the Father sent Him, He now sends them. This sending is rooted in peace, suggesting that our mission for Christ should be grounded in the Gospel's peace, empowering us to face external challenges with grace and confidence.

The second call to peace reinforces the first call to peace.

In verse 21, Jesus makes a second iteration of the call to peace. This is no simple greeting, and so Jesus makes the statement a second time.

If you read something once in the Bible, you should take it seriously; now we have this command given to us two times, so we better pay attention.

The call to peace is a renewed call to bear the image.

Okay, here is the thing: Jesus calls us to peace but not just peace, but rather to a mission. We are, in light of that peace, expected to go out and proclaim Jesus and that peace.

In Genesis 1:26-27, "Then God said, 'Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.' So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them."

The capacity to bear the image of God is a capacity to represent God. That image was marred in the fall but fulfilled in Christ. Christ secured peace, represented God, and now just as God sent Christ, so now Christ sends us.

So from all of this, I want you to see that peace and image-bearing are intimately connected. This means that, in fact, our emotional and psychological well-being are connected with our image-bearing role. What do I mean? I think that satisfaction in life, a sense of wholeness, shalom, occurs when one bears the image of the one who saved them.

I don't want to oversimplify, but at the same time, I think we need to be honest with ourselves. If you want to enjoy life, then seek to do that for which you were created: represent God to creation.

MTR: Evaluate your actions; are you basing your emotional and psychological disposition on your call to image the Savior?

Camaraderie — And responsibility does not mean you are in it alone (22).

This act signifies new life and empowerment, highlighting that the Holy Spirit equips believers for service and underlines the transformative grace of the Gospel, turning inadequacy into divine strength.

The Holy Spirit is nothing short of the Spirit of Christ.

Okay, this verse is incredibly hard to make sense of, especially in light of Acts 2:4 "All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them." If we are not careful, we might get confused and ask if the Holy Spirit came twice: once here and then again in John. So give me a second to try and explain a few things.

First, the Trinity is the term we use to explain that there is one God who exists in three distinct persons: the Father, the Son (Jesus Christ), and the Holy Spirit. These three are coequal, coeternal, and consubstantial—each fully God, yet there is only one God. A key element of this reality is that all three persons of the Trinity have been at work throughout eternity. Because the Holy Spirit is God, the Spirit is often also called the Spirit of God or the Spirit of Christ. These terms are interchangeable.

So when we talk about the Holy Spirit, we are talking about nothing short of the Spirit of Jesus Himself. That is, the Holy Spirit operates within the framework of the Godhead and points people to Jesus.

Now for the verse itself. The NIV states, "And with that he breathed on them and said, 'Receive the Holy Spirit.'"

The problem is that the NIV has made a lot of translation choices for us, so you are going to have to deal with me for a second as I dig into Greek just a little.

First, the verb ἐνεφύσησεν (enephysēsen), which the NIV translates as "breathed," is a unique word choice. There are several verbs in Greek that can mean to breathe, but this verb only occurs here in the New Testament. In other words, John has chosen to use what we might think of as a more esoteric word choice. Why would he do that? Well, I have a theory. In Genesis 2:7, the LXX (Greek translation of the Old Testament) uses exactly this verb to translate God breathing life into man. I think that John is trying to make a point here: this is the beginning of the New Creation and a reinstatement of the task of imaging God.

Second, in the Greek, there is no direct object for the verb. Specifically, what we translate as "breathed on them" should really just be "breathed." In other words, the point is not that Jesus breathed on them. The point is that Jesus, the author of life, is breathing. His Spirit is alive and active.

Finally, the verb λάβετε (lábete), which the NIV translates as "receive," is most commonly translated as "receive," but it has a much broader meaning than that. The verb can refer to entering into a close relationship, making something one's own. I don't think the idea here is that Jesus breathed the Holy Spirit onto the disciples right at this moment, but rather that Jesus is calling on the disciples to go forward bearing the image of God by working in unison with His very Spirit—a Spirit that will come upon them and dwell within them in less than 50 days at Pentecost.

I guess what it all comes down to is a fact we need to remember.

The Holy Spirit is a gift that provides each of us with a direct connection to the one we are called to image.

We are not alone in this effort to image God; we have the very Spirit of the very one who did image God. Here is the reality: we can't do it on our own, but God can do it, and because we have the Holy Spirit, we, enabled through the Spirit, can actually bear the image of God.

MTR: Take a second and evaluate your own practices. "Am I living as one who is indwelt and empowered by the Spirit of Christ?"

Imagery — The hitchhiker's guide to imaging Christ: preach the Gospel (23).

This reflects the Gospel's transformative nature that empowers us to proclaim God's grace to others, showing that our lives, like the disciples', can image the Savior.

The message of the forgiveness of sins is central to imaging Christ.

Verse 23 is one of those verses that, taken out of context, can create all sorts of problems. Yet, when taken within context, it makes wonderful sense and paints a beautiful picture. We have been invited into the very mission of God, the salvation of mankind. That does not mean we get to do the main part of the mission, but rather that we get to proclaim the main part of the mission.

Now, there are some who would say this verse means that the apostles and, by extension, the Church is responsible for the act of forgiveness, but that doesn't fit the context. The whole point has been that the work of Christ is complete; peace has been secured. What instead makes sense is that, in light of this peace, we have the task of proclaiming it. Indeed, this is well supported by the grammar.

The conditional sentence is a second-person aorist subjunctive: "If you forgive," then the action "forgiven to them" is a perfect passive. The aorist subjunctive should be considered from verbal aspect, and in verbal aspect theory, the aorist is a tense-form that conveys an action as a complete, single event, without regard to whether it's ongoing or has a result in the present. It's often used to describe a past action as a simple, completed event.

The perfect refers to something completed in the past with ongoing effect, and the passive of that sort carries the idea that it was done by an agent.

So if I put all this together, here is what I see: forgiveness was secured in the past by Christ; it is done with ongoing effect into the present.

So how does this all fit with the second person plural of forgive, i.e., "y'all forgive"? I think what we are seeing here is a really cool reality. In preaching the forgiveness of sins to someone, you are partaking in their forgiveness that was already secured in Christ.

i.e., when you preach the Gospel, you too get to be the hero of the story!

The reality of condemnation for rejection of Christ is central to imaging Christ.

Now the ugly part: you don't get to image God without also proclaiming God's righteous standard and the consequence of rejecting God.

MTR: Preach the Gospel, all of it.