This Sunday is sometimes called “Low Sunday” in reference to customary attendance. It can put us in mind of the day after a big party, when we have to pick up the stuff and get on with life. We find the disciples trying to figure out how to do just that. Even thought they had received Mary Magdalene’s news about Jesus, they did not know what to do with it. In fear and confusion, they sought safety behind locked doors.

Into this scene steps the risen Christ, greeting them with a prayer for peace, showing them that it is truly he, and then sending them forth. They will not be unequipped, but will go with the power of the Holy Spirit—this is John’s version of Pentecost. Sent forth in the power of the Spirit—to do what? To forgive sins.

If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them;
if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.

Forgiveness lies at the heart of the Christian message, and Christian discipleship. Jesus died for us so that our sins might be forgiven. He sends his followers forth to be the agents of that forgiveness in the world. He sends us out to do the thing that many people find to be the hardest aspect of Christian life.

Why is forgiveness so difficult? Why is it that we find it so hard to declare to another that the past is over and done with? And having said the words, we often struggle with living into them. It seems to me that for many people remembered hurt may be easier to live with than the uncertainty of an unforeseen future, regardless of the promise that future may hold. In other words, “I don’t like the way things are now, but at least I know what they are. If I forgive you, I don’t know what that future will look like…and that’s scary.” For some (many?) people, it may also be that we can’t accept God’s forgiveness, because we can’t forgive ourselves for our own pasts.

Eugene Peterson renders Jesus’ words this way:

If you forgive someone’s sins, they’re gone for good.
If you don’t forgive sins, what are you going to do with them?      (The Message)

And that’s a good question! On one level it seems to me to have a very simple answer: if we don’t forgive sins, but retain them, they will turn back on us, sitting in our souls like a cancer, eating away at our relationships with others and with God.

What are you going to do with these sins? The better question is perhaps “What will they do to us?”

The hard work of Easter—picking up after the party—involves being a people of forgiveness, living out that truth in our own fellowship, proclaiming it in the world around us, and working for the reconciliation of people wherever it is needed.

The gift of the Holy Spirit is not a private thing. It’s not a personal treat from God, like a special Easter candy. It is instead given to the whole church—the community of those who bear witness to the Risen Christ. It goes farther: the gift of the Holy Spirit is not to be hoarded within these walls, but is given to enable the church to bring resurrection life to bear on the world, so that the church can truly be God’s gift to the world.

The Spirit of God is a spirit of forgiveness, of setting the past aside and living into the glory of life as God intended it—that peace (“Shalom”) which the world can not give.

It seems to me that our Eastertide worship ought to reflect the Easter message, both in thanksgiving for forgiveness, and the call to go forth to proclaim it. In ancient church customs, this was primarily enacted in two ways:

1.   Public acts of penitence were forbidden during the Great 50 Days of Easter.

2.   Prayers were said standing, a posture reflecting both thanksgiving and readiness for mission.

Other customs have built up over the years, some of which have become enshrined in the rubrics of various prayer books, and are engraved on the hearts of many faithful worshippers. It is helpful at times to think carefully about our familiar customs, asking if they assist the telling of the story and advance the church’s mission, or if they obscure the story and impede mission. Whatever each of us may decide for our self, let it be informed by a desire to proclaim the faith of the Risen Christ, and a willingness to go forth to proclaim forgiveness to the world.

The attitude of our bodies during prayer is a matter of personal decision. Nonetheless, adopting particular body attitudes can be a very helpful reminder of the heart’s attitude—prostrate in submission, sitting in comfort in God’s presence, kneeling in contrition, standing in thanksgiving and praise. The attitude of our hearts us what is ultimately most important. In Eastertide the heart attitudes in the liturgy are those of praise and thanksgiving, acceptance of God’s forgiveness, and readiness to go forth in joyful mission.

The Spirit of God moves in our midst, empowering us and declaring forgiveness.

Jesus came to bring this new life to the world, to proclaim and to effect the reconciliation of God and humankind. Let us pray that we may continue his work, hearts and spirits filled with love, ready to be his wounded hands and feet in this world.

Let us then get on with the task before us.

Let us remember the big party—and then let us take its joy to all.

Amen.