When therefore it was evening on that day, which was the first [day] of the week, and the doors shut where the disciples were, through fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in the midst, and says to them, Peace [be] to you.
On the evening of resurrection day, the disciples hid behind locked doors. They were afraid of the Jewish leaders. Then Jesus stood among them and said, "Peace." Why the fear, how did He get in, and why that first word?
The bolted door shows what was in their hearts. No lock could cure it:
Here the closed door showed the fear of the disciples. They were afraid of the Jews. And what could cure their fear? Nothing but fellowship with their risen Lord. And He did not leave them without that cure — blessed be His name. He appeared among them and pronounced His blessing on them. "Peace be to you," He said. "Peace," not because their door was secured, but because Jesus was risen. Who could harm them, while they had in their midst the mighty Conqueror of death and hell?
The shut doors are not just background detail. One writer reads them as a demonstration of what a risen body can do:
On that day the Lord gave the assembled disciples a striking witness of the power of life in resurrection. The doors were shut where they were, for fear of the Jews, yet Jesus came and stood in the midst. Weakness belongs to the natural body. A wall, a closed door, a chain or a thousand other things stop it, unless a miracle happens. Not so the body raised in power, as the Lord here shows them without a word… Nothing here suggests that the doors opened by themselves; everything suggests the opposite.
Here the words do more than greet. One writer draws the line between wishing someone peace and handing it over:
Peace was now not merely wished. It was pronounced with authority, given to them on the warrant of the cross. Jesus now gave peace to them, because He had already made it for them. And this is the peace that we, who are in it, can tell our fellow sinners about. We do not merely say, "Peace be to this house," as the seventy disciples He sent out were told to do — a greeting, a wish for the good of the house. We proclaim to that house the sure, settled, purchased peace, which sinners have a title to, in the blood of the cross.
The same word answers the deepest problem a person has. It also exposes a road that leads nowhere:
He had left peace as His legacy before the cross. Now alive again from the dead, He announces it to His own. How sweet the sound in a world at war with God! It is doubly sweet where earnest souls have tried and failed to make peace with God for themselves. Their sighs and tears and groans could not do it. Neither could their prayers, longings and agony. Neither could their efforts to avoid evil and hold to good. Such people know best that conscience and heart find no solid peace in self-judgment or self-denial, in thinking about God or in working for Him. In fact, the more sincere they are, the less peace they have. They are on the wrong road altogether. Only the blood of Christ's cross can make peace for a sinful man, and faith receives it on His word.
John names the day. One writer notes what set that day apart:
In time that day would receive its fitting name, "the Lord's day" (Revelation 1:10). It is as characteristic of the Christian as the Sabbath was of the Jew. Two things marked it off: the saints gathered together, and the Lord present in their midst. So it was again at the start of the following week (verse 26)… This was not the day of creation rest, nor of law imposed. It was the day of resurrection, and of the grace that joins the believer to its rich and lasting results.
One writer treats that room as the model for every gathering of believers since:
We turn back to this first assembly meeting, this pattern of what every assembly meeting should be. The Lord has now gone up to His Father, but He has not forgotten those He has left in the world. We have His own words: "Where two or three are gathered in My name, there am I among them" (Matthew 18:20). And the Holy Spirit is with all such believers, to make the presence of the Lord as real to the faith and love of His saints as it was to those disciples on that first day of the week.
- Fear — The locked door measured their terror. The cure was not a stronger door but the risen Lord among them.
- Entry — No barrier stops Him. The shut doors show the power of a body raised in resurrection, not a door swinging open by itself.
- Peace — His first word is not a wish but an announcement. The cross has already made peace, and He hands it over on His authority.
- Rest — Self-denial, prayer and self-examination cannot make peace. The more sincere the effort, the less the peace.
- Pattern — First day of the week, disciples gathered, the Lord in the midst. That evening set the pattern believers still meet by.
And having said this, he shewed to them his hands and his side. The disciples rejoiced therefore, having seen the Lord.
The risen Jesus had just spoken peace to His frightened disciples. Then He did something without words: He showed them the marks of His death. Why did the sight of His wounds turn fear into gladness? And why does John name the side rather than the feet?
The greeting came first. Then came the evidence for it.
The Lord comes among His own. He proclaims peace to His disciples, and then shows them His hands and His side. By these wound marks He reminds them of the great work that made peace. Peace does not come by tears or groans or prayers. It does not come by self-judgment or self-denial, by confessions or restitution. It comes only by the blood shed on the cross, received by faith in His word.
He made the peace before He announced it. So it comes as a gift with a right attached, not as a wish.
"Peace be to you," the risen Saviour said to His disciples after He returned to them. When He said that, He showed them His hands and His side. He let them read their title to peace. Peace was now not simply wished for. He announced it with authority, and gave it to them on the ground of the cross. Jesus now gave peace to them, because He had already made it for them.
His sudden appearance raised a question. The wounds answered it, and one writer pictures the moment from inside that room.
His words were wonderful, but what shall we say of His wounds? Put yourself in the place of those men and feel what they felt. His sudden appearance among them must have startled and amazed them. His greeting must have thrilled them to the heart. But would not tears rush to every eye as they looked at His wounds? It was indeed their Lord who stood before them. His wounds were the absolute proof of that. They could doubt no more, and He had suffered those wounds for them. Did they speak? No, even Simon Peter was silent in the presence of the wounds of Jesus.
Luke names the hands and the feet. John names the hands and the side. One writer explains why.
Luke speaks of the Lord's hands and His feet (Luke 24:39), because Luke emphasizes His humanity there. His hands tell of both human and divine work perfectly accomplished. His feet remind us of His lowly walk among men. His side reminds us of the pure love of His heart as the blessed Son of God. The disciples were glad when they saw the Lord. Today we may just as truly see Him, though by faith, and know the same gladness.
They did not produce this joy themselves. He gave it, and the sight of Him was what did it.
Having revealed Himself and pronounced peace, He fills their hearts with joy. "Then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord." And still it is only as we get our eyes off ourselves and one another, and see the Lord in His beauty, that our hearts will be made glad.
Jesus had promised that their sorrow would turn into joy. That day answered the promise, but not in full.
The point in the "little while" is that the Lord is not going to be lost. As soon as God has accomplished His purposes, He will come again… As far as it went, it came true when He rose again. His disciples did rejoice greatly then, but it was not confined to that. The passage says their sorrow would turn into joy. And it did… In one sense Christ is gone, and yet we have seen Him, so that we are always rejoicing. The full fulfilment will not come until Christ returns.
What the disciples saw in that room, heaven still sees. John later saw the Lamb in glory.
In the middle of the heavenly scene stood a Lamb as slain. The disciples saw the wound prints in Him as risen (John 20:20, 25, 27); John now sees them in Him glorified. Heaven treasures the memories of Calvary… There He was wounded and slain (Isa. 53); here He is the centre of heaven's strength and glory, yet He still bears in His Person the marks and scars of the cross.
- Peace first. He announced peace before He showed the wounds, because He had already made peace. It was not a wish but a gift, resting on the cross.
- Proof next. The wounds settled who He was. The same Person who died stood alive among them, and even Peter had nothing to say.
- Side, not feet. John records the pierced side, which speaks of the love of the Son of God. Luke's hands and feet tell of His work and His lowly walk.
- Gladness follows. Joy came from seeing the Lord, and still comes only when our eyes come off ourselves and one another and rest on Him.
- Marks forever. John saw those same wound prints on the Lamb in glory. Heaven keeps the memories of Calvary, and our full joy waits for His return.