Now what? Last week we celebrated the grand festival of the resurrection – Jesus Christ raised from the dead – now what do we do? The rest of the gospel story seems to be what your Senior English teacher would call the denouement – the part of the story that wraps up the final details after you already know the big reveal. The tomb is empty, so to make a point Jesus appears to the frightened and discouraged disciples, proves to them that he’s really alive; then he even more mysteriously gets whisked back into heaven.

So what to preach about now? What stories should we tell?

When we include the longer ending of Mark, verses 9-20 that are thought to be a much later addition to the text, all four gospels seem to be searching for that final word about how Jesus interacted with his closest friends and disciples after this stunning event happened. First of all, the gospel writers need a way of convincing people that it wasn’t a hoax. In Matthew’s telling, he comes out and says that the soldiers who were guards at Jesus’ tomb saw what had actually happened but were paid off by the chief priests to keep it quiet. They were instructed to indict themselves and spread the word that the disciples came and stole the body while they were sleeping. Interesting. I’ve never heard a sermon about that during the Easter season. More often in the church, we go for the certainty, the absoluteness of it all. Like those gospel writers, we are also searching for the big pronouncement that Jesus might make from beyond the grave. Is he telling us what to do – baptize in my name, teach my disciples, feed my sheep, or forgive one another? Is he telling us who he is – the Son of God, the chosen one, the Living Christ? Or does he come back to do something so mundane as to have a last meal or two with his disciples before lifting off into heaven?

In the Presbyterian tradition, we have long sought to spell out what we believe to try to get some clarity about who we are and then how we ought to live our lives modeled after this person, Jesus. Many of these beliefs seem to come from the final chapters of the four gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. We believe – in the resurrection of the body. We believe – in Christ risen from the dead. We believe – with the women, with the disciples, that God has the power to conquer death. We try not to question too much what actually happened – on Easter.

But the next Sunday comes, and we turn the page. We go to the next sentences of the story and get anything but certainty. Not much time has transpired in the storyline, the women witnessed the empty tomb in the morning, and these stories of Jesus’ strange appearances happened through the rest of that day and into that same evening. Whether it’s the disciples’ failure to recognize him on the road to Emmaus, or whether he appears in a room and they are terrified that he is a ghost, or whether it’s Thomas needing to touch his wounds to believe, these follow-up stories after the fact are the ones that seem very human to me. Even standing right next to the risen Christ, they couldn’t believe it. But then again, whenever God does something so life changing and so reorienting, is it any wonder that we human beings are stricken with doubts?

However, I don’t really think that Jesus’ post-resurrection appearances were meant to bring us certainty. If that were so, these gospel writers really didn’t get what they were supposed to write down. Each one of them, in their own way still convey some doubts, some fear, some very real trepidation about what lies ahead for the disciples. They weren’t all that sure that Jesus was who he said he was. Luke says, “In their joy they were disbelieving.” In Matthew, he says, “Some worshipped him and some doubted.” And even in John’s gospel where belief is emphasized for its importance, Jesus says to Thomas who gets a close up look at his scars, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

What this tells me is that our beliefs about Jesus are based far less on any solid data than they are based on experiences of Jesus, both those that are recorded through his disciples and the personal experiences we have ourselves. Jesus didn’t appear after the resurrection because the disciples needed some sort of convincing that what had happened was real; Jesus appeared to bring them the gift of peace. At least three of the four gospels tell us so. Mark has a much odder ending – with snake handling and all kinds of weirdness. You should read it sometime. So, for me, these four different accounts themselves tell us a lot about how we can all have varying perspectives on who Jesus is and on what he came to do. One might think these biblical authors would want to be especially accurate in accounting anything a “risen” Savior would give by way of instructions to his disciples - even the Buddha has his 8-fold path - but that’s not exactly what’s going on here. If you compare what’s most common in these stories, Jesus shows up, finally gets recognized among them, and offers peace. Or at the very least, he tells them “Do not be afraid.”

There are times I long for something more. Are we to follow the final instructions to Peter made in John’s gospel, “feed my sheep?” Or should we focus on Luke’s description of the Savior that says he would come so that repentance and the forgiveness of sins would thereafter be proclaimed in his name? Or should we set our minds on the great commission from Matthew where Jesus tells us, “Go and make disciples of all nations?” Then, what about Mark’s scary observation that in Jesus’ final words he says that those who believe in him will be baptized and saved but those who don’t will be condemned? I sometimes want to know that there’s a particular direction, purpose, or instruction for living out our faith, but then Jesus chooses to give us peace instead.

Perhaps it is only through a peace that we cannot really understand or comprehend that these four streams of the gospels can somehow fit together as the ways in which people experience the living Christ. In our culture, you can see individuals, churches, entire denominations that follow one of the paths of a particular gospel to some exclusion of the others. If I had to guess, I’d say we’re probably a “feed my sheep” church with a little forgiveness, and little commitment to educating disciples thrown in. I suspect we’d have a hard time preaching Mark’s last words from the risen Jesus – though it is obvious to me that even the suspect ending of Mark’s gospel has something important to say about the intense power of this story as Jesus talks about continuing his ministry by casting out demons and healing deep brokenness through faith and prayer.

Perhaps peace is a good gift after all – even if it leaves us with more doubts and questions than it does answers. For Jesus, this sense of great peace is found both in his living presence with us and in the coming of the Holy Spirit. But in many ways it is elusive. Like the disciples, we sometimes don’t recognize Jesus standing right next to us. We are slow to credit the Spirit’s work in our lives or in our congregation. It seems too irrational for us. We are quick to write off these post-resurrection experiences as the theologizing of the biblical documentarians, but what if these experiences of the Peace of Christ are the real deal?

Maybe it is somehow about the difference between being religious and being spiritual, and right now there’s a hunger for the spiritual things so deep in this world that I can almost hear a rumbling stomach in the background noise. People are longing for a connection with the holy. And if we only practice our faith out of duty or religious obligation, we’ll never show each other the meaning of Christ’s peace in and through us. The disciples had an “aha moment” of the risen Jesus that transformed them. It doesn’t mean they weren’t shaking when it was over, but they allowed themselves to be touched by the divine nature of Christ and then they knew peace like they’d never felt it before.

I wish I knew how to describe more precisely that feeling of the living Jesus in our midst. Sometimes I do catch glimpses of the Spirit’s work, or know a sense of peace that comes from something far deeper that I could know on my own. What I do know is that Jesus’ gift of peace allows me to let go, at least a little bit, of that desire for certainty and absolute meaning. That peace gives me confidence that I can live in all the ambiguity and perplexity of being human, and that it’s going to be OK. Knowing that I have the whole Bible and all these experiences of Jesus to draw from validates my own sense of Jesus as a very real presence among us. What that peace also gives me is the ability to let go of my greatest fears – of death, of change, of differences – both real and perceived - among people. Jesus doesn’t make our job of following him very easy. We have to figure a whole lot out on our own. Then, we are given peace enough to understand, or hopefully understand, that human beings very different than us are just trying to do the same.

May your life be touched by the peace of our Lord, Jesus Christ.

Amen.