“That Sunday evening the disciples were meeting behind locked doors because they were afraid of the Jewish leaders. And suddenly, Jesus was standing there among them. ‘Peace be with you,’ he said. As he spoke, he showed them the wounds in his hands and his side and they were filled with joy when they saw the Lord! Again he said, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you.’” (John 20:19-21)
Mrs. Manguso was always inside her house. She never went outside. She never stepped over the threshold onto her porch. Her curtains were always pulled shut. You see, she suffered from agoraphobia—the fear of open spaces.
She refused any opportunity of getting outside. There was a time when she was not so afraid. The pictures of her on the wall show her on vacation with her family. Everyone was all smiles. But soon after the loss of her youngest child, she began to isolate herself. One can only imagine the darkness and heaviness of heart that clings to her every day.
Agoraphobia is estimated to affect just 1.7% of the U.S. population. But within the Church, that percentage may be more—not literally, but perhaps metaphorically. There are parallels between Mrs. Manguso and the modern Church. Many local churches miss the opportunity of getting outside and into their community. They’re isolated from the wider community in the world. Perhaps it’s agoraphobia—the fear of an open public square with its divergent viewpoints and lifestyles.
Or perhaps it’s xenophobia: a fear or aversion toward people or cultures that are perceived as foreign or different from one’s own, which can manifest as distrust, discomfort, or even prejudice toward individuals or groups based on their cultural background or nationality. But instead of engaging the culture, many Christians observe the world from inside the four walls of their sanctuary and with the curtains drawn and closed.
Yes, this world is full of trouble, and Jesus warned us that the journey would include pain and persecution. In fact, even after he had experienced the crucifixion at the hands of the leaders of this world, he came to his disciples and found them literally hiding behind locked doors.
“That Sunday evening the disciples were meeting behind locked doors because they were afraid of the Jewish leaders. And suddenly, Jesus was standing there among them. ‘Peace be with you,’ he said. As he spoke, he showed them the wounds in his hands and his side and they were filled with joy when they saw the Lord! Again he said, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you.’” (John 20:19-21)
It’s interesting that Jesus shows the wounds from the very thing that was the cause of his disciples’ fear. He then sends them—not into hiding—but into the world, just as the Father had sent him. And fifty days later, it was the Holy Spirit and Pentecost that had the disciples really getting outside. The point was that Jesus overcame everything that the world—our sin and evil—brought to him. He’s alive. And in that reality, there is peace and confidence for whatever we, the Church, may face.
So, let’s be getting outside to those who need Jesus.
Prayer
Lord, You sent Your disciples into the entire world to make disciples, to proclaim your victory over sin, death, and the devil. And that mission is still ours today. We continue to proclaim Your victory over sin, over the grave. You continue to send us into places where darkness seems to rule, and yet it cannot vanquish Your light.
Give us that confidence as we, again this Easter, kind of look into the scars of Your hands, Your side, and Your feet, and hear Your command again: to go, to go and make disciples.
May it be true of each of us as we go this day. In Jesus’ name, Amen.