In our text today, the writer of Luke plants us in the middle of an ongoing story—a story of excitement, confusion, doubt, and fear. A story that we often struggle to understand for in many of our minds Easter is just a big celebration. But the disciple did not yet see things that way. A shift had happened, but they struggled to comprehend all that laid before their eyes.

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where despite telling the truth, others did not believe you? The early followers of Jesus, who witnessed the resurrection found themselves in such a place. Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, a few other women went to the tomb, very early in the morning. You may know this story well (Luke 24). As they approached, they saw the stone rolled away, they look inside but did not find a body. Suddenly, they encountered two sharply dressed men, who told them, “if you are looking for Jesus you are in the wrong place. This is home of the dead, but Jesus is alive!” The women raced to tell the other disciples this good news, but upon hearing it, they believed it to be pure nonsense. Though the women spoke the truth, the disciples could not imagine their report to be a possibility. Though they had seen Jesus performs signs and wonders their minds were locked in a limited reality where death still had the final say.

We should not be too hard on the disciple, for as the great theologian James Cone reminds us, the significance of the cross and the resurrection are not as obvious as we believe them to be. Cone tells us that “The cross is a paradoxical religious symbol because it inverts the world’s value system with the news that hope comes by way of defeat, that suffering and death do not have the last word, that the last shall be first and the first last.”[1] In a world where fear and intimidation ruled the day, it can be hard to accept that any other option is possible. For the disciples, the tomb may have been empty, the women may have encountered “two men in dazzling clothes,”[2] Peter may even have confirmed their story, but at that moment in time they did not understand the new reality at hand. Being locked behind closed doors in terror was the only response that made sense to them.

So, here we find these followers of Jesus, huddled together in a room—fearing for their lives. Then suddenly Jesus appears among them, saying “Peace be with you!” In a moment when fear controlled the actions of the disciples, Jesus breaks through the physical barriers that they had placed around themselves and offered them peace. The disciples are in a state of mind where they fail to comprehend the good news that they hear and see.  All those who insist that “seeing is believing” have certainly not read this account of the resurrection. The disciples saw the Risen Lord but did not understand what they saw. They believe Jesus to be a ghost. Fear led their thinking. When fear takes a hold of us we tend to put God in a small box and wish all the world could operate from the comfort and safety of that tiny space. But God is much greater than our fears and though fear may be a natural response to the unexpected it does not need to be a mode of operation. When Jesus comes into our lives—when Jesus comes into our space, he meets us wherever we are, even in the midst of our fears, and he offers us peace. Jesus came into the confines of the disciples’ safe space and showed them the marks of the resurrection, called them to go forward witnessing the good news to all the world.

Have you ever really noticed how often fear shows up throughout the Easter story? It seems that every time God transcends the expectations of the followers of Christ, fear manifests itself. But even then, in those moments when we barricade ourselves behind physical or metaphorical doors, Jesus still comes in and guides us to a place where faithful response leads to a new reality and deeper understanding. There is a simple complexity that the Easter story lays before us,