Stop Doubting, Start Living
The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all. Amen.
The door is locked. It is Easter evening. No one knows what is going to happen next. The disciples are still trying to process the women’s report that Christ has risen, that the angel said He would appear in Galilee, that they themselves found the tomb empty. What does this mean? What is happening in the world? And there is still the very real threat to their lives. So the door is locked.
And Jesus appears to them. “Peace be with you.” It echoes the proclamation of Luke 2: “Peace on earth, goodwill toward men.” The wounds of Jesus Christ have won peace for all mankind. They have paid for their sin, for our sin, for the sin of the whole world. And that forgiveness is freely given to all who believe.
So what does this mean? Jesus tells them. He gives them their mission, their objective, their job description. Again He says, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent Me, even so I am sending you.”
Why did the Father send Jesus? Jesus explains. He breathes on them and says, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of anyone, they are forgiven. If you withhold forgiveness from anyone, it is withheld.”
The job of the Church is to take the Holy Spirit into the world and proclaim Christ crucified for sinners. To the repentant, the contrite, the terrified in conscience, the Church proclaims forgiveness—Christ died for you, your sins are removed from you as far as the east is from the west. Even though you die, yet shall you live. Whoever believes in Christ shall never die.
To those whose hearts are hardened, whose consciences are seared, who sin willfully and gleefully, the Church proclaims the law. Their sins will bring judgment and death unless they repent. This is simply another way of saying what Jesus says in Matthew 28: make disciples by baptizing and teaching—by forgiving the repentant and withholding forgiveness from the unrepentant.
This is easy to say. It is sometimes very uncomfortable to do. Some people enjoy telling others they are wrong—especially on social media. But face‑to‑face? With a neighbor? A family member? Those conversations get uncomfortable very quickly. Suddenly we get a frog in our throat and need a drink of water.
But we have a message to proclaim—for it is the life of the world. It is the message of peace, hope, and the forgiveness of sins.
Every morning we open the news or scroll social media and see uncertainty everywhere. Rising gas prices. Inflation. Fear. Anxiety. Someone after first service told me, “Pastor, we have a solution: stop opening your news app.” If I’m the cause of rising prices, I apologize.
But the uncertainty is real. And there is uncertainty in our personal lives. We are not guaranteed tomorrow. I took communion to Glenda B—- this week. Yesterday Jim called—she is home with the Lord. We are not guaranteed tomorrow.
We have members with terminal diagnoses. They will not get better on this side of eternity. They are trying to push off the open grave as long as possible, but eventually it comes for us all. Facing our own mortality is sobering. It is frightening. We don’t like to think about it. We use euphemisms—“went home to the Lord”—because the word “death” is hard.
The peace of God is the forgiveness of sins. The peace of God is knowing that no matter the turmoil in the world or in my life, even though I die, yet shall I live. Christ died for me. He has overcome the world. And I know this is true because the Spirit testifies through the ages—through the Word, through the martyrs, through the water of baptism where God placed His name on me, through the blood of the Lamb poured out for my sin.
This past week, some pastor friends and I were sending each other videos of people mocking the resurrection—people saying Christians are crazy, that the resurrection can’t be true. One of our members posted about people being upset because an Artemis II astronaut spoke about God, as if acknowledging God were some kind of offense.
It can seem crazy to believe this. You believe in a man who rose from the dead? You believe a book written two thousand years ago? You believe this religious nonsense?
Yes. I do. Because these are the words of life. These are the words of hope. These are the words of promise. This world will not always be like this. My body will not always break down until it dies. I will not always have to say goodbye to those I love. The world will not always be at war with itself. There will not always be floods and fires and—because we live in Oklahoma—wind, hail, and tornadoes.
There is a better world to come. And it is through the promise of the resurrection.
So to the troubled conscience, we proclaim: Do not disbelieve, but believe. You are a precious child of God. He made you. He died for you. He gives you eternity.
To the unbelieving, we say—kindly but truthfully—repent. You can be right and still be a jerk; that doesn’t make you less of a jerk. Speak the truth in love.
Repent. Believe. Receive life. Receive forgiveness. It is freely given.
You will find a peace that surpasses understanding. A hope that is sure and certain—not like hoping to win the lottery, but like knowing the lottery has already been deposited into your account.
We have been made alive in Christ. Though our bones were dry and dead, the Word of God has brought us to life. The promise is life everlasting.
And now you have your marching orders as the Church. My calling is to publicly proclaim forgiveness and administer the sacraments. But I am not in your homes, your workplaces, your grocery stores.
You are the Church sent into the world. You have a holy responsibility to bring Christ to the nations.
Alleluia. Christ is risen.