I preached this sermon at Spirit of Joy Lutheran Church in Clarkdale, AZ, the Sunday after Easter, my final sermon in person at the church Mike and I helped charter in the 1990s.
Grace and peace to you from God our Creator, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus, who is our Christ. Amen
St. Thomas shares the spotlight with the Risen Savior this weekend, not just in this church, but in most churches around the country.
In churches that use the Revised Common Lectionary, this is the traditional Sunday-after-Easter gospel every year. We hear about Thomas, who was not with the other disciples Easter night, who is present a week later. And for churches using the narrative lectionary, like Spirit of Joy, this passage is appointed for the Sunday after Easter this year, and every fourth year. So, countless sermons have been preached about this text over the years, and probably tens of thousands more will be preached this weekend.
Thomas always seems to get a bad rap in this passage. Those of us who grew up in the church have always heard a certain label applied to Thomas, because of the words Jesus speaks to him. Labels matter in how we read and respond to this story. Let’s take apart this familiar encounter and look at a few pieces in detail.
At the start of the gospel, the disciples are gathered in an upper room, locked in, for fear of “the Jews.” Or in other translations, “the Jewish leaders.” I don’t think anyone can fault them for locking themselves away, for being afraid. They’ve seen their teacher taken away, tried, scourged nearly to death, and then crucified. It makes sense that they expect to be next, and they are terrified.
Aside from that, they are grieving. They knew that Jesus died three days earlier, his lifeless body washed and wrapped and placed in a donated tomb. They heard the stories that the stone was rolled away and he was not there when the women went to the tomb at dawn. Whether his body was stolen or he is risen, they don’t know. They aren’t sure whether to go back to their former lives or proclaim the risen Savior, so they are stuck: fearful and questioning.
I’m sure many of us can empathize with the disciples. We’ve just lived with a global pandemic for two years, and 6 million deaths later, it’s still not over. My congregation in Prescott Valley is not meeting in person this week and next due to a Covid outbreak during Holy Week. Many of us have spent so much time behind our own locked doors, fearful and questioning. Is it safe to gather, to go back to work or school or church? Should we get another booster? Should we keep wearing masks? So many questions, honest questions. And the first truth of today’s story: It is the human response to ask questions.
Second, none of the gospels explain where Thomas was on Easter night. But he was not with the others. I think his absence points to the second truth: People are different and people come to faith differently, and that’s OK. For starters, not everyone handles grief the same way. A group of disciples locked themselves in an upper room on Resurrection Sunday to grieve, maybe to be safe, perhaps to share the wild hope that Jesus had risen from the dead. But not everyone was there. Perhaps Thomas just wanted to be alone to process his grief, ponder his questions. Maybe he didn’t want to lock himself away from the world. Or it’s possible that his was not the popular opinion – he couldn’t bear to start believing in a resurrected Jesus only to have his hopes dashed again. Remember, the disciple Peter wasn’t the only passionate one. Earlier, when Jesus said he was returning to Judea, as Lazarus had fallen ill, the disciples tried to talk him out of it, since some Jewish folks wanted to kill him. Thomas, however, knew what was at stake, but was all in with Jesus. “Let us also go, that we may die with him,” he told his fellow disciples.
During the six weeks of Lent, a group from Spirit of Joy gathered to study “The Difficult Words of Jesus.” In this study, we talked about six gospel texts that have vexed Jesus followers and theologians for two centuries. Not every word Jesus uttered was graceful and compassionate. We reflected on Jesus’ instructions to the rich young man to sell everything he owned, and to his disciples to go nowhere among the Gentiles. We heard passages that suggested Jesus wanted to divide families, and others that seem to suggest Jesus sanctioned slavery. We talked about heaven and hell, and scriptures that vilify Jewish people. Vanderbilt Divinity School theologian A.J. Levine provided some guiding thoughts, but at the end of the day, we didn’t walk out in complete accord. And that’s OK. We don’t have to live this Christian faith in lockstep. Our God is big enough for our questions and doubts.
The story is told of a self-proclaimed, self-assured atheist who would take great pleasure in publicly denying the existence of God. He would constantly tell anyone who would listen what was wrong with a God who would allow cruelty and injustice to continue. One day the great Hassidic master Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev, Ukraine, approached this man and said, “You know what, I don't believe in the same God that you don't believe in.”
Faith is not a once-and-done proposition. It’s not like learning to read or do multiplication. We don’t go to Sunday School and confirmation, or an Alpha class or Diakonia, or a new member class, and walk out the door understanding it all. Perhaps the father of the boy that Jesus healed in Mark 9 uttered the most honest words in scripture when he said, “I believe; help my unbelief.” The third truth for today: We can live in the paradox of faith and unknowing. The opposite of faith is not doubt. Doubt is part of faith. The opposite of faith is certainty.
And that brings us back to the disciples in today’s passage. Look closely at the story. On Resurrection Sunday, Jesus suddenly is with the remaining disciples, without Thomas. They were terrified, and now they think they are all having a communal apparition – this must be a ghost. What else appears despite a locked door? But Jesus tells them to be at peace, allows them to see his wounds and touch his flesh, and they rejoice. It IS Jesus!!
Then a week later, same time and place, Jesus appears again and tells them to be at peace. Jesus, sensing Thomas’s uncertainty, invites him to do just as his fellow disciples had done the previous week – see and touch his wounds and prove to his senses that he is their resurrected teacher. Jesus’s words are not a rebuke, but an invitation. “Do not doubt, but believe.”
And Thomas does not disappoint. As soon as he touches the wounds in Jesus’ hands and side, any uncertainty he may have had is gone. His words surpass simple knowing, or even the joyful recognition of the disciples a week earlier. His response is the ultimate faith statement of the Gospels in five words, as he exclaims: “My Lord and My God.”
And the fourth and final truth: Jesus addresses his last comment in the passage not to Thomas, not to the other disciples, but to his followers not in the room that night, the ones who would not be able to place their hands in his nail holes and his side. “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
Blessed are those who have not seen. Not Mary who meets the risen Jesus in the garden. Not the followers on the road to Emmaus, who meets the risen Lord in the breaking of the bread. Jesus is talking to those who would become Christ-followers from the disciples who couldn’t stop telling others about the resurrected Jesus. First, in Jerusalem, and then throughout the world. From Peter, who spread the good news to Pontus and Galatia and Cappadocia and beyond. From Philip, who met the Ethiopian eunuch and began the spread of the gospel to Africa. From John who preached through Asia, and from Thomas, whose witness of “My Lord and My God” traveled to Persia, beginning faith communities that now are the rock-solid Christian congregations throughout India.
Jesus is talking to Christians in Corinth and Ephesus and Thessalonica who would hear about Jesus from Paul, and to the followers around the globe who were inspired by the 3,000 people infused by the Holy Spirit in Jerusalem on Pentecost.
And Jesus is talking to you and me, and the people we tell, a continuing story of faith brought to life by “those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
It is a wild and almost unbelievable story, about God who stopped at nothing to keep loving God’s people, God who loved creation enough to be born as one of us, about a Savior so in love with humanity that he laid down his life. But if you open your heart to be touched by those wounds, and see the risen Christ, perhaps you, too, proclaim with Thomas, “My Lord and My God.” Or maybe you have your questions, but you showed up, and are here to worship our God who is big enough and loves you enough so you can live into your questions, now and always. Blessed and beloved are you, either way.
Amen
No comments:
Post a Comment