A Real Resurrection Requires a Real Mission

This morning we are going to finish Luke. But I think I might do one more overview sermon on Luke next week. We will be in Luke 24:36-53 this AM.

But before we get there I want to tell a story from church history. One of the very first debates in the Christian church.

It’s in the earlier part of the 100s, so we’re about 70-100 years after Jesus’ death, burial, and resurrection. And the debate centered around this question, “Is the material world evil”?

Do our bodies matter? Are they good or fundamentally evil? Are our bodies an insignificant, disposable container carrying around an internal spirit?

One teacher named Marcion viewed the world a bit like this:

There is a great battle between the spiritual and the physical. Our bodies are evil and connected to this material world that God will one day entirely destroy. The goal of spirituality is to free ourselves from the material world and be connected to spiritual.

Marcion would have agreed with this quote, often attributed to C.S. Lewis...

“You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body."

Body is evil. Spirit is good. If that’s your core theology, what do we do with Christ?

Marcion taught that Jesus didn’t actually have a physical body. Jesus only seemed to have a body. Bodies bring limits and shame, and the good God would never lower himself in such a way. He could not unite with sinful and fallen flesh. Salvation is about saving souls—it has nothing to do with redeeming bodies.

Enter Tertullian. Tertullian took his students back to both the virgin birth and the bodily resurrection of Jesus. He argued that Jesus was fully human. Yes, He went through puberty. We should not shy away from this, said Tertullian.

“It was actually the ordinary condition of his earthy flesh which made all things else about Him wonderful.” He is a fully human person, who would hunger, thirst, weep, tremble with emotion, and pour out his very blood—real, iron-filled blood. And he will rise from the grave with a genuine bodily resurrection.

Here is why I’m saying all of this. In just a moment we are going to read Luke 24:36-53. But as we go into this text I think there is probably a good bit of teaching that we’ve swallowed. That keeps us from really seeing the good news of this passage.

We’re a bit more like Marcion than Tertullian sometimes. We deny the importance of the body. It’s just a temporary shell—what really matters is my spirit. We don’t view humanity as holistic creatures. We give a hearty amen to what we think Lewis said,

“You are a soul...You have a body...”

Luke 24:36–53 ESV

As they were talking about these things, Jesus himself stood among them, and said to them, “Peace to you!” But they were startled and frightened and thought they saw a spirit. And he said to them, “Why are you troubled, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? See my hands and my feet, that it is I myself. Touch me, and see. For a spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. And while they still disbelieved for joy and were marveling, he said to them, “Have you anything here to eat?” They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate before them. Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you, that everything written about me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled.” Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, and said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance for the forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. And behold, I am sending the promise of my Father upon you. But stay in the city until you are clothed with power from on high.” And he led them out as far as Bethany, and lifting up his hands he blessed them. While he blessed them, he parted from them and was carried up into heaven. And they worshiped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy, and were continually in the temple blessing God.

Sermon Introduction:

In the early 2000’s there was a growing movement in some bigger cities. When I tell you about it you’re probably going to roll your eyes.

Cuddle parties.

Imagine 20 or so people, mostly strangers, gathering in a room wearing pajamas and then spending an hour dancing, hugging, and cuddling together—all with permission from the others. That is a cuddle party. I’ll confess, the whole thing seems strange to me. I’ve never been to a cuddle party and I am pretty confident it is not something that I would attend. Why would you want to cuddle a stranger?

It just sounds kind of weird. But it also makes me pause and ask a different question. What is happening in our society that is making people so desperate for human touch that they will pay $80 per hour to be hugged by another human?

But what has happened is that we’ve oversexualized everything. It means that within our families and society at large, things like hugs and handshakes are becoming less and less common. People are longing for meaningful human touch and only know how to achieve that through sexual touch.

What we talked about earlier with Marcion is connected to another movement called Gnosticism. It’s the idea that all physical matter is evil—the spiritual is what matters—and so we end up either outright neglecting the physical, ignoring that there is a connection between our bodies and our souls, or even worse hating our bodies and the bodies of others.

Add to this a pandemic. The result is that we have incredibly lonely people who are desperate for physical touch who typically only know it in its perverted forms. I think Lore Wilbert is correct when she says, “our society simply doesn’t know what to do with the human body or human touch.” She goes on to say:

When we don’t understand the healthy expression of something, or the innate purpose of it, and when it is shrouded in mystery, we don’t know what to do but invent, pervert, or usurp it in every way[1].

Cuddle parties aren’t the answer. But what is? I would argue that the answer is understanding an embodied resurrection requires an embodied mission.

Let me show you this from the text in Luke.

They were talking about “these things” the crucifixion of Jesus, the possibility of the resurrection, and how all of this might connect to the Old Testament.

And Jesus stood among them and said to them, “Peace to you!” Shalom. That’s what we’re all longing for right. And Jesus declares it. He gives it. He’s in their presence saying “peace”.

Now, what do you expect in their response? You expect them to give him a hug, you expect them to celebrate, “It’s all true! The resurrection is real!!! Yay!!!

But they don’t. It says they were “startled and frightened”. That means to fall into a state of panic and to be overcome with fear. They aren’t given peace by Jesus—but they are frightened.

Now why is this happening? Let’s look at this for just a second. What’s happening here is what we might call a trauma response. Their bodies are telling them something, “you are in danger!” The body is getting them prepared to either fight or run away.

Breathing rate increases, heart rate follows suit, peripheral blood vessels — in the skin, for instance — constrict, central blood vessels around vital organs dilate to flood them with oxygen and nutrients, and muscles are pumped with blood, ready to react.

Muscles — including those at the base of each hair — also become tighter, maybe causing goosebumps.

Metabolically, levels of glucose in the blood spike, providing a ready store of energy if the need for action arises. Similarly, levels of calcium and white blood cells in the bloodstream see an increase.

That is happening to the disciples here. Why? The text says that they thought they saw a ghost. But more is going on here. That’s what Jesus says in verse 38. “Why are you troubled...”

It’s the same word used in the gospel of Mark to describe the disciples seeing Jesus walking on water.

That’s not too strange, that’s what you would expect maybe with thinking you’ve seen a ghost. It’s the second thing “why do doubts arise in your hearts”?

It’s a word that speaks to having two contradictory thoughts, it’s deliberating, it’s mulling something over, it’s having something enter in and you say, “this just cannot be.” That is what is happening. It’s not just that they think it’s a ghost…it’s that there is something in them that tells them it’s Jesus.

But they just cannot get their bodies there. They can’t get to that spot of belief. Their trauma is talking.

Can I tell you what this looks like? You ever have a bad experience and then have to return to the scene. Or maybe it was riding a bike and you fell off and skinned up your knee. What did parents or grandparents tell you…get back on that bike. Why do we have to say that? Because our bodies are telling us—even though wrongly—danger, danger...

Same thing might happen going to the doctors office. This stuff happens all the time. Maybe somebody phrases something a certain way, you get triggered, you go into fight or flight.

What we need to see here is that their bodies are out of control. Jesus is saying peace but their body is saying, “ahhhhhh!!!! run away!!!!!”

Now what do the Marcion’s among us do? Well you rebuke the body. You tell it to stop screaming. You demean it. You mock it. You rebuke it. You get it under control. Spirit take control! You tell it to believe harder. Faith idiots!!!

But what does Jesus do? Yes, he does ask that probing question. It’s important. It’s calming. Because what it’s doing is naming the experience, naming their emotion, naming what is taking place…that’s helpful, that’s healing…and then look at what he does....

Touch me.

Oh, this is wonderful. We can see this even more in the gospel of John. There we see that Thomas wasn’t present for this encounter in Luke. And so he didn’t believe his friends…he says this...

“Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

This is trauma talking. It’s disappointment. It’s the pain of dashed hopes. “You idiots can believe what you want, but I’m not about to trust again unless I can see with my own eyes and feel with my own hands.I won’t be fooled again. I’m not hopping back on this little merry-go-round.”

Thomas asks for the impossible. And he sits with it for eight days. Eight days where the other disciples are filled with hope and possibility. Eight days where all of his questions and all of his pain rise to overwhelm his bitter palate. Eight days, not for his wounds to heal but eight days for them to fester. Thomas hurts to the touch.

But then, in the gospel of John, Jesus appears to Thomas. His hands still bearing the marks of trauma. Barely closed. His body split open. His wounds still raw. It’s certainly not a sanitary scene. It maybe an overstatement at this point to say that it’s a bloody mess. But that’s actually where trauma is the most pernicious. It’s often not in the moment itself, it’s in the eight days later. It’s when scabs are starting to form. It’s when others around us are moving on to a new normal but we still bear the pain in our bodies.

For Jesus this isn’t merely the marks of a spear piercing his side. This isn’t only the physical wound of having a nail driven through your hand. These wounds, this trauma, holds with it a message. His body would remember the mocking crown of thorns. That hole in hand is a symbol of rejection—crucified as a would be King. The whole world assuming that He is an imposter. His own beloved disciples having abandoned him. His side absorbing the blow of Thomas’ doubt.

And what does Jesus do?

Touch my trauma.

The son of God wounded. Betrayed. Shamed. Mocked. Scorned. All of those horrendous things we read of in Deuteronomy 28. The cursedness of being hanged upon a tree. Crucified outside the city. He bore it all. And now he invites Thomas to touch the wound.

Something about this heals Thomas’ own doubt—his own trauma—his own cynicism. All the bitterness seems to be washed away in that one moment as hot tears fall down upon his cheeks and he realizes that the resurrection is true. It’s so true that you can touch it. But now he doesn’t need to touch it.

I don’t know if he actually touched the wound or not. But that’s kind of the point. There is something in this where Jesus became more human than any of us have ever been. And he took upon himself more pain, more trauma, more shame, more of all the yuck and muck and grime of being human. And somehow in this moment when he says, “touch my trauma” it’s healing.

We don’t have to touch the gaping side with our own fingers because the presence of those holy wounds does something within us. By inviting us into the trauma of His own resurrected body we taste not only our sorrow but also His resurrection and our own.

Jesus isn’t inviting Thomas only into the blood, the germs, the savagery of the thing. He’s also inviting Thomas into the healing. He’s inviting him to touch a resurrected wound. This truth transforms all of our trauma. Gaping wounds are not the climax of the story. Healing is.

When Jesus is telling us to “touch his trauma” he’s inviting us to do so with our own wounded fingers. He doesn’t tell Thomas to wash his hands, put on sterilized gloves, and touch him from a distance. He invites him to really feel. Examine the wound with your own dirt covered appendages. Take your trauma to My trauma.

In all of this Jesus is not only owning his own wounds but somehow those of Thomas as well. Here, and only here, in this wounded side of Jesus will we find ultimate rest and healing for our own trauma. This invitation of Jesus tells me that His trauma invites our own trauma. He’s big enough for our dirty hands to touch His wounds. And he calls us into His wounds with our own.

--

And in Luke it’s still feels too good to be true. So what does Jesus do? He asks for some food. He eats some fish.

One, is that ghosts don’t eat fish. But that’s not all that’s happening here. He’s calming them with the normal. The everyday mundane experience of having a meal.

That is so often where we see Jesus. It’s what happened with the disciples on the road to Emmaus. The normal every day thing of eating a meal.

THIS IS WHY WE DO WHAT WE DO ON WEDNESDAY’S. This is so often when people can see Jesus—the simple act of eating together.

What’s the big statement over verses 36-42. What is the big thing that Jesus wants us to see. Jesus is really resurrected. He is embodied as He is resurrected. It’s the stuff you can touch and feel. It’s material.

But there is something else we need to see here. It’s another one of the downsides to Marcion’s view of the world. And Tertullian called him on it:

Since you detest a human being at his birth, then after what fashion do you love anybody?

I like how one author interacts with this,

We all claim to love, but when the romanticized idea of love fails us we are faced with embodied love, filled with earthiness, contingency, and conflict, our love falters. To love our neighbors means we must affirm both their and our creaturely existence. (Kapic, 47)

Watch this. Jesus opens their minds to understand the Scriptures. They see how it all connects to Jesus. Verses 46-47 is the gospel. This is the good news of Jesus.

Real suffering. Real resurrection. Real repentance. Real forgiveness given.

So what do we then conclude...

real proclamation.

You are witnesses of these things. Embodied. What does that mean?

The mission is real. In real bodies. With real limits. With real mistakes. With real everything...

Live and proclaim what you’ve seen. Your real relationship with a resurrected Jesus, empowered by the Spirit.

Now, don’t hear me wrong. There is, I don’t believe, anything wrong with placing a gospel tract at a gas station. You’re putting God’s Word out there and knowing that God can use it to work.

BUT…there is a little phrase that the Puritans once used that I think is helpful. “Ordinary means”. That’s the things that God typically uses....what I think we’ve done is we’ve traded ordinary means for dynamic means.

We love to hear a testimony about a guy who was about to kill himself, picked up a gospel tract at the urinal of a gas station, read a few words and Jesus saved him. And that is awesome. It’s an amazing testimony to God’s greatness. But we hear those stories and think…that’s what I want…I want to be part of that...

But do you want to know what the ordinary means is...

If you came to Jesus through a gospel tract stand up...

If you came to Jesus through just watching a television preacher one night or hearing a radio station…stand up.

If you came to Jesus through a dream or a vision stand up...

If you came to Jesus because you just kind of showed up at a church one day, uninvited, heard a sermon and bam....stand up...

Now if you came to Jesus because a friend, who was a Christian, invited you to church…stand up...

If you came to Jesus because a friend loved you, cared for you, shared the gospel with you…stand up...

If you came to Jesus because your mom and dad were believers, loved you, shared Jesus with you…stand up.

Now what does that tell us…? Most of you are believers because of ordinary means. And I would circle back around to those cuddle parties…what do those people need, a gospel tract or a good hug? How can we step into that void in our culture...

People are hurting. Constantly disembodied. Online stuff…But we weren’t made for that. We were made for embodied worship. And embodied mission. Be there!

That also means you have limits. You can’t be there for everybody. You aren’t meant to be…but you and I ARE supposed to BE THERE, to be fully present, to be embodied with those where we ARE supposed to BE THERE.

--

One other ordinary means that God uses. The Lord’s Supper…do you see what is happening in the supper.

“This is my body...”

It’s physical. You can touch it. It’s connected to trauma…I’m participating in this...

Something beautiful and marvelous is happening…why we make sure to get our relationships with others correct…your body matters—THE body matters, and it’s not supposed to be fractured.