Thomas' Awesome Faith - John 20:19-31 - Easter 2 2021

 John 20:19-31

Several years ago, I was summoned for jury duty. It wasn’t the first time I was summoned; it had happened two or three times before, but always just after I’d made a big move – away from the jurisdiction of the summoning county or state. Therefore, this was the first time I actually served.

Despite myself, I became intrigued by the case itself, and by my duty to try to discern which side of the case would be able to prove its argument. Who is right, and who is wrong? Who should win, and who should lose? Within our legal system, of course, one is considered “innocent until proven guilty,” so in our discernment of any facts, we need to come to the table like Switzerland – neutral in our opinions of the case.

In essence, we need to doubt the claims made by both sides in their opening arguments – until we can see with our own eyes, hear with our own ears, decide with our own minds through a preponderance of the evidence, what to believe.

          Today, we have a case like that with the disciples. The risen Lord Jesus visits them as they sit, huddled in fear, behind locked doors. Jesus comes through that locked door and stands before his disciples; he speaks to them; “Peace,” he says; he shows them his hands, his side, and as they look upon his crucifixion wounds they begin to get excited.

          Here is Jesus, the one they mourn, standing before them! He speaks again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” And with that, Jesus empowers the disciples by breathing the Spirit into the them, and then offering up words to commission them for mission in the world. 

          Of course, we all know that there is one discip



le, Thomas, who is missing. You can imagine the scene when he returns. “Thomas, you’ll never believe it!”

          “Our Lord was here! He came and stood right here, right in this very room! Right in this very spot!” “He spoke! We saw his wounds! It was truly he!”

          Of course, this is where “Doubting Thomas” earns that moniker. For he says in effect, “Sorry guys, you’re right, I don’t believe you. I can’t believe you. It’s just too fantastical. You were all just overcome with the heat, with your fear and your worry.”

          But they insist all the more, “No, no, it’s true! We swear it, it is true! Truly, we have seen the Lord!” So poor Thomas tells them that unless he sees Jesus with his own eyes, and unless he can see the wounds for himself, he just won’t – he just can’t believe. What Thomas needs is evidence - cold, hard evidence.

          For him, without such evidence, the jury is still out. Without proof beyond a reasonable doubt, Thomas will not believe.

Poor Thomas. I’ve always felt that he gets the bum rap in the story that is presented in our gospel lesson for today. Doubting Thomas – whom we often judge as the perfect example of faithlessness – simply operates the way we all do in life.

When Jesus first appears before them, the other disciples are confused and fearful because they doubt the vision before their very eyes. When we suffer pain and see unnecessary suffering, doubt often seeps into our minds as well. Isn’t it simply wise to doubt what we don’t know is true, especially when it seems impossible?

While Thomas gets singled out as the doubter in the group, it occurs to me that Thomas is not the only one who had difficulty in these days following the crucifixion. Mary lacked understanding in her encounter with the risen Christ until he spoke to her, until he called her by name. When she reported to the disciples that she had seen the risen Lord Jesus, didn’t they doubt her?    And in this very account, before they could react at his first appearance, the one Thomas was absent for, Jesus showed the disciples his hands, his side. He showed them the evidence; the proof of his identity. Because Jesus knows, he understands, how hard it is for most of us to believe what we cannot see, what we cannot experience, what we cannot know for ourselves.

He knows that the human mind searches for order: to make sense of things, to understand the world around us, and what is encountered in these stories is contrary to natural law!

Doubt and wonder are natural responses to what we cannot understand; it is in our nature to then pick confusing things apart and assess what we find. It’s the way we are hardwired. After all, our judgments are important for our survival. We need to discern what is true and what is false, what things to believe and what things may lead us down the garden path to the compost heap!

We love to tangle with a mystery, and to figure out the answer to most things. Even in our entertainment, we often gravitate to the books, movies and TV programs that present a mystery to solve, a puzzle to put together, a story that makes us think and try to find the answer to some driving question or problem. Faith itself is a mystery of the heart that the mind wants to resolve.

Last week I quoted St. Anselm, who spoke of our journey to belief being one of “faith seeking understanding.” Perhaps nothing describes our faith – our belief – better. We seek the truth.   

It seems to me, my friends, that while we traditionally focus on Thomas in this story, it is Jesus, and what Jesus says and does that the gospel writer John is truly revealing to us here.

This story centers on Jesus – not Thomas, because it is Jesus who lives again. It is Jesus who comes into their midst and blesses the disciples with peace, and it is Jesus who commissions them for the work they will do.

It is Jesus, our crucified, risen Lord, who demonstrates in this appearance his abiding presence with those who believe, and even with those who doubt. And in abiding with them, he blesses them with peace – peace that the world cannot give.

Jesus blesses them with life. For the gospel tells us that here, when Jesus visits the disciples in the upper room, he breathes new life into them and equips them for mission.

Back a couple of chapters in John’ gospel, in the farewell discourses Jesus promised his followers a life shaped by joy, grounded in his gift of peace, and guided by the work of the Spirit. And here in this gospel, we see Jesus’ abiding love that even death on the cross could not destroy.

The peace that Jesus offers the disciples comes from the knowledge that, in spite of all the hurt and harm the world can and does inflict, God’s compassion and care embodied in Jesus, stands again in their midst.

At the heart of this story is that God makes available just what is needed for faith.

Jesus doesn’t rebuke Thomas, he shows him the truth. He doesn’t become angry, he invites Thomas to satisfy his need. He doesn’t limit the grace and mercy he offers to those in that room, he promises to reveal God’s presence to those in the future who come to belief and who love him.

This is the way that God works. Knowing how fragile our comprehension and faith can be, God provides a way for us to remain and abide in him.

For this reason, Jesus came to live, die, and to rise again; Jesus came into the world to bring light, to share God’s revelatory Word, and to bring us to everlasting life. No longer will sin and doubt define us. Not only is God present in the world, but God meets us in our need.

Through Jesus God meets us in our doubt and provides the means of grace – the means of living and believing, even in the midst of our unbelief. Through the Baptism for which we give thanks today, and through the holy meal that we share, that grace comes to us to strengthen our faith, and to nurture us in the way of believing.

God grants us faith itself in the person of the Holy Spirit, the breath of life, the advocate who works in us and with us and for us. And God places us in the midst of community, where we are nurtured and supported, and can grow into the people God desires us to be.

Throughout the Gospel according to John, we are met with stories. Here at the end of the text for today, John reveals why – there is a grand purpose behind these writings, and it is this – “so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.”

John is providing us evidence, so that we might believe in Christ Jesus. No longer should we live in doubt. Instead, may we live in trust and faith that because Jesus lives, we shall share in the abundant life he came to bring.

We don’t know if Thomas actually touched Jesus’ wounds, or whether he put his hand in Jesus’ side. It seems doubtful that John would have left such detail out.

But what follows from Thomas is one of the strongest claims of faith found in the New Testament, “My Lord and my God!”  With these words, Thomas leaves no doubt of his judgment of the “evidence.” With these words, Thomas invites us to believe with him. He invites us to believe and to have faith, so that we may live always in relationship with God through Christ Jesus.

 

Mystery in the Dark; Brought to Light - Easter Sunday Sermon 2021 Mark 16

 

Easter Sunday 2021 April 4

Mark 16:1-8

 

            Christ is risen, Alleluia! He is risen indeed, Alleluia!

            What a joy it is to stand and preach before you in person today, after the long drought of the past months. A year ago, we faced an Easter that did not feel much like Easter at all. We were still in shock, uncertain how long our pandemic-forced lock-down would last, but SURE that it couldn’t be all that long.

            Yet today we gather for the first time in person since the fall.

And together, we cry out, Christ is risen, Alleluia! He is risen indeed, Alleluia!

For safety, we meet outdoors, with a plan still forming of how to ease into some semblance of in-person worship that honors both the safety of our people and our deepest need and desire to worship in person.

With many still missing in our numbers, “normal”, that thing we are craving, is still far away. We may forever be redefined by the adjective “new,” for our “normal” may look quite different from what we remember.

            Last April I wrote a pastoral letter in which I laid out a plan that, since the liturgical season of Easter lasts for 50 days, guaranteed that when we again met in person, we would simply pick up and carry on, celebrating “Easter” on whatever Sunday during the season that might be. Who knew that we would be where we are a year later?

            Who knew that over the course of the year, 2.7 million beloveds across the world would be lost to COVID, more than half a million of those in our own country, and that the number would still be climbing?

How could we have pictured the ways in which communities around the world would experience life as a see-saw as wave after wave of infections vastly changed families and communities forever?

How could we have known that right here in Pennsylvania, while the number of deaths would be falling, which is a good thing, those infected and those with long-term affects and losses caused by the virus would still be growing? Who could ever have foreseen it?

Yet here we are, and none of that can take from us our Easter joy. None of those realities can dampen the thrill with which we sing to the glory of God, gathered together crying out in joy, Christ is risen, Alleluia! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

            The gospel story we just read from Mark is not the flashiest, nor the “most popular” telling of the glorious resurrection of Jesus. John’s telling, with its women excitedly sharing their findings at the tomb, and angels, and ecstatic disciples racing toward the tomb, and Jesus-as gardener, is usually the favored version of the first Easter morning, certainly more than the one Mark presents.

And yet, Mark’s telling of the events of that morning seem perfect for us this year. Mark gives off a stronger vibe of mystery and even uncertainty, as the women leave the scene silent and afraid. There must be joy for the women at the news that Jesus is risen, but what we are told is that as they leave, they are feeling much more fear and amazement. And who wouldn’t feel that way, given the circumstances?

As we gather today, we pray for the world that has endured so much fear, terror, and loss – more than we can even comprehend. We hear the terms COVID-brain and pandemic-distress, and reports on the mental and emotional-health ramifications of our COVID-reality on school-children, on isolated seniors, on newly stay-at-home parents, the workforce, small business owners, medical personnel, first-responders – on most of us.

And yet, nothing can stop our celebratory shout for an Easter morning when we are reminded that as Christ is risen from the grave, defeating the powers of death and hell, we have Easter joy to share because despite the realities I just named, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Some of us may be weary; some of us may be numb from the events of the past year. Some of us are bewildered – how can a pandemic go so long uncontrolled when we have the kind of medical research, technological wizardry and biomedical capabilities as we have today?

Some of us are just sad or overwhelmed.

But here we are, observing another Easter, and acknowledging that despite the suffering of the world, despite the changes in our lives, and the uncertainty of the future, Christ is alive! No longer dead, no longer laying in the bonds of mortality.

Rather, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

For all of the reasons I’ve named and so many more, perhaps the truth is that Mark’s version of the Gospel, his telling of the resurrection story is exactly the one that we need to hear this year, as we gather to celebrate God’s mysterious, wonderful, incomprehensible, passionate, loving work of redemption.

Up until now, I’ve been urging you to shout, to claim the truth of Easter Sunday with the acclamation that Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

But rather than shout the refrain as we always do, perhaps this year, of all years, you would much rather whisper the words. Perhaps your truth is you don’t want to shout, cry out, without a doubt the resurrection refrain. If you are in a place where you would much rather tap out the rhythm of the words with your fingers, or whisper them, or speak them quietly in the silence of your heart, not only is it okay, it is in perfect keeping with the resurrection story as we have received it via Mark, today. I can shout enough for you, and me, and all of us. And I’m sure I have friends here who are more than happy to make a messy, noisy, joyful noise to the Lord!

For Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Nothing pleases me more than the emergence of the blossoms and leaves of countless shrubs and trees each Spring. Seeds and tiny buds and perennial tubers have lain dormant for a season, many of them entirely unseen, but late in winter or early in spring, unseen beneath the frosted lawns and flowerbeds, unbidden along the branches and twigs, life begins to emerge from seemingly dead places. The beginning of the transformation is unseen to the naked eye but happens in God’s timing and is God’s creative work.

The stirring, the emerging awakening, the transition from hibernation to life happens in mystery, hidden from our eyes. But it happens all around us. In the past couple of weeks, I have been noticing that hidden life suddenly emerging, and transforming the world around us day by day as it always does this time of year.

God works inside us in the same way. There is life inside us that we cannot see. There is mystery to this life.

There are times when we are dried up. When we are lifeless, fragile, unseeing, unable to imagine a future. Certain of nothing, filled with fear, trembling, and darkness.

But remember that every single gospel account of the resurrection of Jesus tells us that it happened in total darkness. It happened in mystery. It happened outside of the comprehension of anyone, even the disciples – those closest to Jesus in life.

Sometime before dawn on a Sunday over two thousand hears ago, the great mystery of all time happened in the dark. In secret. No cameras, no social media accounts, no human eye, no light, witnessed the event. No human narrative can contain it.

Despite all that, on this morning of all mornings, on this day of all days, we declare with confidence, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Saint Anselm of Canterbury described Christian life as “Faith seeking understanding” and on Easter Sunday, in a year such as the one we are living, perhaps more than at any other time, this motto of Anselm’s seems to me to make sense and to describe perfectly why this year perhaps more than any in my lifetime, it is with joy and as much confidence as I have ever had in my life, that yes, oh yes, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

While this year has been hard in many ways, I cannot help but be astonished at the places, the ways, and the people in whom I have seen God working and moving this year.

The women traveled on foot to the tomb and along the way, they pondered, “who will roll away the stone, from the opening to the tomb?” And lo and behold, when they arrived, it had already been done for them by the power of God.

Throughout this year, one barrier after another has been overcome – how would be worship? How would we meet our fiscal responsibilities? How would Zion continue to do mission? How would we feed people – continue our community meals? What would happen to the renewal process at Zion, which was really just gaining steam? What would we do about Steps to Success, since we couldn’t meet? What would happen with worship? How could we keep people safe? How could we, as a community, maintain connection? Care for people in their times of loss, illness, or need? There seemed to be so much darkness surrounding these questions and more, and no light to shine on any of them.

But I stand here to tell you that time and time again I saw God answer our questions, pave the way, water the seeds until they popped through the topsoil, pile up the graveclothes, roll the stone away from the entrance to the tomb.

Over and over again we have seen new life emerge where we have least expected it. Mystery has surrounded us. God has called us. Jesus has redeemed us.

Today we shout with joy that Jesus Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Because, while we are still afflicted by the brokenness in the world, by our shortcomings and sin, by our self-centeredness and blindness, Christ lives. Jesus saves. With his love and by his resurrection, he transforms us.

Today, we have Easter joy. Today, we are filled with faith. Today, Christ’s peace resides within us. Love surrounds and fills us – all because of Jesus.

The women left in silence. There was fear and amazement. They told no one what had happened. Yet.

But the story didn’t depend on what happened through them in that moment. Because the glorious truth of the conquered grave and mysterious, victorious, risen Lord ultimately made its way from their lips to every single corner of the world; to every continent, every country, and it is still being heard and shared and spread.

Let us too, therefore, honor the story and share it. The tomb is empty. Death is vanquished. Jesus lives, because Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen.