The Lutheran Hour

"Through Locked Doors"

#92-35
Presented on The Lutheran Hour on April 27, 2025
Speaker: Rev. Dr. Michael Zeigler
Copyright 2025 Lutheran Hour Ministries

Text: John 20:19

Have you ever felt left out, excluded;—like an invisible door slammed in your face? Philip, a friend of mine, was telling me about when he and his wife moved into a new neighborhood. They had come there from out of state for work. His wife was getting her graduate degree and Philip ended up working at the local fire department. Soon after they moved in, some neighbors visited and welcomed them. But apparently, things hadn’t gone well, because after that, almost overnight, the doors were closed. People in the neighborhood still smiled and waved at Philip and his wife. But that’s where it stopped. It was like they were being shunned.

Later, a co-worker at the fire department explained it to Phillip. Most of the people in this area that they had moved to were part of a close-knit religious community. Almost everyone in the town belonged to this religion. And anyone who didn’t belong was systematically shunned. Whenever someone new moved in, they would check to see if you were “convertible,” and if you weren’t, you made the “list.” Apparently, something Philip and his wife had said put them on the list. And not just a figurative list. There was an actual list. Phillip’s co-worker at the fire department had shown him. It was an official document sent out by the religious leadership. They even had their current contact information and everything, which was a little scary. Not like it was a hit list or something like that. It wasn’t a convert-or-die program. They didn’t get any death threats, there were no bricks thrown through their windows. You were welcome to go on living in their community, shopping, working, admiring the well-trimmed lawns and hedges and streets safe from crime. And the people would go on smiling. And then they’d ignore you.

Working at the fire department, Phillip connected with a guy who was part of this religious group. They went through the fire academy together, were hired at the department on the same day, completed advanced training together. Philip thought they might be friends, but in all the years he worked there, Philip never met this man’s wife or his children, never saw the inside of his house. Those doors were not open to him.

It’s an extreme example, but closed doors like that can happen in any tight-knit social group, especially among religious groups, including Christian groups, even if Christians ought to know better. The religious group I just told you about, the one Philip and his wife experienced, was not Christian. But that doesn’t mean Christian groups are immune to behavior like this. I’ve been to Christian churches in a city where visitors are customarily greeted with the statement, “You’re sitting in my pew.” I’ve known Christians who moved into a small town, went to the local Christian church there, became members there, but never felt welcomed there because they weren’t from there, which meant they weren’t in one of the two families that ran the church there. And I’m sure you could give me examples like that. Sadly, Christians are not immune to this sort of behavior, to shunning people socially.

But you know that social shunning isn’t just a religious practice. It happens outside of religious groups, too;—even among groups that pride themselves in being open-minded and accepting. You remember those reports about prominent universities disinviting speakers;—rescinding invitations because they might share ideas the students deemed offensive. Or, in some cases, when the speaker showed up, he or she was shouted down from the stage by angry students in the audience. And people on campus felt like they were walking on eggshells, that they needed to censor their opinions, or else face career doors slammed in their faces. It happens everywhere, in Ivy League classrooms, basements in the Bible belt, at playgrounds and poker tables and bingo night at the nursing home. People shun other people. And they do it, not because they’re religious or irreligious. They shun people because they’re afraid.

We shun certain people when we’re afraid of being offended or challenged, afraid of being compromised or contaminated, afraid of losing the good thing we’ve got going, or afraid of not getting what we think we’re owed. We shun people because there’s a part of us that thinks the world can be neatly divided between good people and evil people. And it’s us versus them. So we bar the doors and post a guard.

Christians;—followers of Jesus;—among all people, we should know better. We should know better because when the first followers of Jesus were hiding in fear, afraid for their lives, trying to shut out a big bad world, Jesus, crucified and risen from the dead, passed through those doors.

Twice we’re told this in the ancient account of Jesus known as the Gospel according to John;—two times, how His disciples had shut and locked the doors from the inside to hide, to hide from the people who had killed their Lord, to hide from the memory of how they had failed Him, to hide from a world that was out to get them. They were afraid. But Jesus went through the doors. He didn’t ask their permission. He just showed up and changed their outlook. It couldn’t be us versus them anymore, because Jesus is for everyone, even if everyone is not yet for Jesus.

Listen how it happened, as it’s recorded in the Gospel of John 20: On the evening of that first day of the week and the doors were locked where the disciples were, because of fear;—fear of the Jewish leaders, Jesus [risen from the dead] came and stood among them and says to them, “Peace be with you.” And after He had said this, He showed them His hands [where they had nailed Him to the cross], and He showed them His side [that the soldier had run through with a spear]. So, the disciples were overjoyed when they had seen the Lord. Then again Jesus said to them, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent Me, so I am sending you all.” And then He breathed out and says to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of anyone, they are forgiven. If you withhold forgiveness, it is withheld.”

Now Thomas, who was one of the 12 disciples, who was called Didymus, he was not with the others when Jesus had come. So, they, the other disciples, started saying to him, “We have seen Him!” But Thomas said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger in the place where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

One week later, the following Sunday, the disciples came together again, and Thomas was with them. Jesus comes, even though the doors were locked, and He stood in their midst and said, “Peace be with you.” Then He says to Thomas, “Put your finger here, see my hands. And stretch out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe;—trust.”

Thomas answered and said to Him, “My Lord and my God!”

Jesus says to him, “Because you have seen me, now you trust. Blessed are those who have not seen, but [still] they trust.”

Jesus did many other signs in the presence of His disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you all may trust;—so that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ, the Son of God, and that by trusting, you may have life in His Name. John 20.

I wonder what they were thinking during that week between these two scenes? What were they thinking about Thomas? Thomas;—one of the 12, who had been with them nearly from the beginning. Thomas, the realist, who just a couple of weeks ago had said “Come on guys, let’s go with Him” when Jesus was determined to go back to Jerusalem where the Jewish leaders were trying to kill Him, Thomas says, brave and fatalistic, “Let’s go, so that we may die with Him.” Thomas is the guy who had a way of saying what was on everyone else’s mind. “Teacher, we don’t understand what You’re talking about,” Thomas had said to Jesus after Jesus had told them the night before He was crucified, “You know the way to where I am going.”

Thomas told him, “Lord, we don’t know where You are going. How can we know the way?” Which prompted some of the most important words ever spoken by Jesus, “I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life [Thomas!] No one comes to the Father but through Me.”

But now Thomas wasn’t having any of it. He was sick of all the cryptic sayings, all the ambiguity and mystery, and unanswered questions. Thomas was done with Jesus, once and for all. Humanly speaking, unconvertible. Jesus was dead to him.

“So, what do we do with Thomas now?” I’m sure the disciples wondered. You’d think they would have shunned him, put him on the list;—canceled him, unfriended him, left him off the text thread. He had, after all, indirectly ridiculed them and their naïve faith. And they had every reason to be offended. And just having him around would make it awkward for everyone. You would have thought they would have locked him out. But Jesus had passed through the doors, hadn’t He? He had risen from the dead for Thomas, too, and promised God’s peace.

I wonder what Thomas was thinking. I’m guessing that following Sunday, the last thing in the world he was expecting from them was an invitation to come hang out. I mean, wouldn’t it be weird now? It was like they were living in two different worlds. He was the realist, and they had been suckered in by fake news and conspiracy theories. He wouldn’t laugh at their jokes anymore. He wouldn’t lean into their stories like he used to. He wouldn’t get it anymore. He had been one of them, but not now.

But weren’t they still his friends? They were. They had stood by him. They looked past the offense and invited him in. Even with his doubts, they welcomed him. How could he refuse? Plus, if he couldn’t be sure about his beliefs anymore, how could he be so sure about his doubts?

Followers of Jesus;—we are still tempted to close the doors on relationships. Thomas was our community’s first test case. And by God’s grace, we passed! And so today, when we are tempted to shut people out;—people who offend us or threaten us or make us uncomfortable;—we remember and trust the crucified and risen Jesus who passed through locked doors. And so, it can’t be us versus them anymore, because Jesus chose us, not because we’re good and the rest of the world is evil; Jesus chose us, not to fight the world, or to hide from the world, or to condemn the world; Jesus chose us because God loves the world, and wants to save the world, and so He sends us into the world. It’s not good people versus evil people, but Jesus for everyone.

Now, don’t hear what I’m not saying. I’m not saying, “there is no evil.” No, there is evil, but it’s not limited to them. It’s in us, too. And it’s evil, not because it offends us. It’s evil because it tries to close us off from God. And we can’t live without God because God made us for Him, and so we can’t live without Him. But evil tries to tell us that we can. Evil tells us that we can shut out relationships and find happiness in ourselves. It tells us that people are the enemy, and that we need to find a tribe to fight them. It tells us that we don’t need God’s Word and God’s wisdom in our lives, but that we can make up our own. Evil separates us from each other and from God. And, left to ourselves, we would follow this way straight to hell, alone and afraid, with the doors locked from the inside.

But evil cannot stand in Jesus’ way. Jesus’ way of breaking through our locked doors is called “forgiveness.” Not just any forgiveness, but God’s forgiveness. And God’s forgiveness isn’t just about cancelling debt. God’s forgiveness is about opening doors. It’s about making peace and restoring relationships. That’s why Jesus adds this part about withholding forgiveness, when He told His disciples, “If you forgive anyone their sins, they are forgiven. And if you withhold forgiveness, it is withheld.” Withholding forgiveness does not mean shunning people. Christians are not called to shun or exclude or cancel people because Jesus died for all people, for sinners, for His enemies, for people who insulted Him, for people who offended Him, for people like us. He died and rose for everyone, and shunning people is not the way of Jesus.

Okay then, so what does that mean, to “withhold forgiveness”? It sure sounds exclusionary. Think of it like this: let’s say I did something horrible to hurt a friend. But she wanted to forgive me. But for whatever reason, I couldn’t stand to face her. So she sends another friend as a go-between on her behalf, to talk with me. That friend comes to my door, to confront me, but also to patch things up, to restore the friendship. But when I discover what this little meeting is about, the thought of it makes me feel guilty and ashamed and trapped all over again. So, I slam the door and lock it from the inside. In that case, what happened to her forgiveness? It is withheld. It’s withheld not because she wants to shut me out, but because I’m still rejecting the relationship.

So also with the Word of Jesus. We have no choice but to withhold forgiveness when someone rejects a relationship with Him. Because withholding forgiveness means loving people enough to speak the truth to them, the truth that they cannot live without God, but that God still sends His Son to live for them. And locked doors won’t stop Him.

Listening to John 20, where do you see yourself? Do you see yourself with the disciples;—not sure what to do about the “Thomas” in your life? Or do you see yourself with Thomas, doubting the truth and wisdom of Jesus?

If you are with Thomas, you don’t need to assume that we Christians think we’re better than you. We may not always admit it, but we know we’re no better. We still need God and His forgiveness as much as anyone. And if you’re with us, if you are among the disciples of Jesus, and you’re wondering and fretting and praying about a “Thomas” in your midst, you don’t need to assume he or she is unconvertible. Just invite him in. Welcome her. Speak the truth in love, and speak love in God’s truth, or maybe sometimes just love without saying anything. And let Jesus show up in His Word and by His Spirit, as He promised He would.

Recently I heard a story from a friend about his church. He gave me permission to share it with you, but I promised I’d change the names to protect people’s privacy. The key moment happened at Sam’s funeral. Sam was only 29 when he died suddenly, tragically. Sam had grown up at this church. He was baptized there. He’d been active in the church youth group. His parents still belonged there.

After graduating from school, Sam came out as gay. He knew what his church taught about this, what the Bible taught about human sexuality;—that God had designed human sexuality to be fulfilled in marriage between a man and a woman for life, but also that sin had distorted and confused everything, and that the only way out of this mess was to trust in Jesus, to live in His forgiveness, and try to live by God’s wisdom rather than the world’s. Sam hadn’t gone to church much after coming out. But he was still close to his parents. His parents asked Pastor Mack to officiate Sam’s funeral. Pastor Mack agreed.

At the visitation before the service, Pastor Mack noticed Tom, Sam’s partner. Tom was standing alone, away from the family. Pastor Mack was about to gather the family members, just before the funeral started, to have a special prayer with them. Pastor Mack goes over to Tom and extends his hand. Tom hesitated, maybe anticipating a lecture about how his lifestyle went against God’s will. Pastor Mack introduced himself. He says to Tom, “It hurts to lose such a dear friend.” And then he invited Tom to join the family for the prayer. And Tom did.

The next day, after the funeral, Tom came up to Pastor Mack and hugged him for a long time. Tom thanked him for the care that he gave to the family and to him. Pastor Mack told Tom that he was welcome here anytime, that the doors were always open. In the Name of Jesus. Amen.

Reflections for April 27, 2025
Title: Through Locked Doors

No reflection segment this week

Music Selections for this program:

“A Mighty Fortress” arr. Peter Prochnow. Used by permission.

“O Sons and Daughters of the King” arr. Jeffrey Blersch. From Hymns for All Saints: Psalms, Hymns, Spiritual Songs (© 2006 Concordia Publishing House) Used by permission.

“Christ Is Arisen” arr. Henry Gerike. From Hope by the Concordia Seminary Chorus (© 2003 Concordia Seminary Chorus) Used by permission.

“Crucifer” by Sydney H. Nicholson, arr. Peter Prochnow. Used by permission.

“This Joyful Eastertide” arr. Peter Prochnow. Used by permission.