Sermon: "The Space Between", John 20-21 (April 20, 2025 - Easter Sunday)

I’m gonna need a little bit of help with the first part of my sermon today, so if I spoke to you earlier about helping, would you please come up and gather around the table now?

As my helpers are making their way forward, I want to offer a little bit of context for those of you who may not have been following Boone’s Lenten worship very closely. Over the past six weeks, we’ve been reflecting on divisions within humanity, both as found in John’s gospel and as reflected in our own lives. To drive the point home, we used different colored beads – the beads up front here – to “vote” on some of the most divisive issues of our times: Summer or winter? Dogs or cats? Chocolate or vanilla? These particular divisions are, of course, more or less superficial, but they remind us of the many ways that we categorize and separate ourselves out from one another. That’s how the whole world would be if human beings were in charge.

But human beings AREN’T in charge, and today, we celebrate how God’s plans cannot be thwarted even by humanity’s most sinister machinations, amen? So while we, as human beings, would be inclined to maintain these divisions indefinitely, this is what God did on the Day of Resurrection: [volunteers pour all beads into container together].

For those of you who can see, what’s going on here? Are the beads separate anymore? [No!] They’re all right up next to each other, mixed together, aren’t they? Have they all become the same color and shape, now that they’re not separate anymore? [No!] No, of course not. They haven’t changed what they are. The blue beads are still blue; the orange beads are still orange. The only thing that changed was their relationship to one another. [Invite volunteers to return to their seats]

This is what Christ has done for us. In the resurrection, his decisive victory over sin has erased, once and for all, the false divisions that separate us from one another. It doesn’t erase the differences between us – we still have our different genders, different races, different needs, different perspectives, all of which make us unique and shape our individual experiences of the world. But the boundaries between these different identities – the lines in the sand that human beings have been drawing since the beginning of time – no longer have any power over us. Jesus refuses to let them define who we will be as God’s beloved children. Can I get an Alleluia?

There’s still a pretty big problem, though. The Resurrection may mean that we are no longer divided into Jews and Greeks, slaves and free, males and females (to paraphrase the Apostle Paul), but as you might have noticed, humanity still isn’t quite the big, happy family that seems to be implied in Paul’s letter to the Galatians [3:28]. Not even the Christian Church can claim to truly be “one in Christ Jesus,” let alone all of humankind. Jesus has shown that God does not intend for us to be apart from one another, yet somehow the divisions between us still persist.

This is because the story – OUR story – doesn’t end with the Resurrection. There is still work that needs to be done. John’s gospel doesn’t end with the Resurrection, either. After Jesus’ initial appearance to the disciples, John notes a peculiar exchange between Peter and the resurrected Christ. Three times Jesus asks, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” and three times, a distressed Peter answers, “Yes, Lord, you know I love you.” Three times – the same number of times that Peter denied Jesus. Peter doesn’t seem to recognize the link between these two occurrences, but it’s not exactly subtle. And each time, once Peter confirms his renewed devotion to his teacher and friend, Jesus instructs Peter to take care of his sheep.

Peter seems to be realizing that, although his denial had driven a deep wedge between himself and Jesus, the unforgiveable had somehow been forgiven. The distance between them was now gone – and he’s eager to lean into that (“Yes, Lord, you KNOW I love you”). But Jesus needs him to understand that there’s more to it than just forgiveness. An absence of space between two things creates a vacuum. If we want to release the tension of that absent space and keep it from coming back, we need to put something else in its place. [Pour sand in with beads] And that something, according to Jesus, is intentional, compassionate connection: “If you want things to stay this way, Peter, then I need you to feed my sheep.” 

Salvation doesn’t stop our fallibility. It doesn’t stop us from making bad choices, from hurting each other, from working against God’s kindom. Those things still happen, because we’re still human. And they will keep happening unless and until we replace the spaces between us that the resurrection has removed with something else – something better – something holy. THAT is the part of the story that we’re at now, the role that Christ has given US to play in his Resurrection.

Every time we see these human divisions start to reassert themselves, we should imagine Jesus speaking directly to each of us: “Child of God, do you love me?” If we can still honestly answer, “Yes, Lord, you know I love you,” then we know what must come next: feed Christ’s sheep. Create connection with those who are not, after all, on a different side. Give to those who have less, lift up those who have been pushed down, welcome those who are excluded – bring them all closer and closer to you. The gospel message with which we have been charged is Good News for ALL – and it’s a lot harder to share when we insist on remaining separated by divisions that we’ve invented.

When we proclaim that he is risen (He is risen, indeed!) we’re also proclaiming that God’s power is greater than sin and death. How, then, could there be any force keeping us apart from one another that Christ could not overcome; amen? If we believe in the resurrection, then we must also believe wholeheartedly in the human unity made possible in Christ Jesus. Today, this Easter morning, we celebrate the beginning of humanity’s redemption. Where it goes from here is up to us – Alleluia, amen.