April 3, 2016: May God’s words alone be spoken, may God’s words alone be heard. Amen.
Happy Easter!
Now, for all of you that thought Easter was last Sunday…today is Easter…too, or 2. Easter is not just a single day on the calendar. We are still celebrating Easter and we are in Eastertide until the day of Pentecost, this year falling on May 15th. Of course, every day is Easter to us, most especially every time we gather for worship.
Of course today we proclaim another gospel – gospel meaning “good news” – because today is the day when we proclaim loudly….“Baseball is BACK!” And it is profound that it starts today, because Opening Day of Baseball is for all those who believe in new life after death in the fall,even in the absence of any proof. And yes, I am talking about being a Mets fan (although we were soooooo close last year!).
And because we always read this text from John, the one about Thomas, some call this Doubting Thomas Sunday. Thomas – my absolute favorite apostle…well, second only to Mary Magdalene that is. I love Thomas because Thomas is me – and really, all of us. And today, given that our organist is out with the flu, our choir is off this week, not to mention the bulletins are no where to be found and the copier won’t work, I think we can all say what was said to Thomas, with a bit of a twist “Blessed are those who have not seen an organist, or heard a choir, but who sing anyway! We all pray that Bill feels better soon.
Now I didn’t preach last year on this Sunday, but for those of you who heard my Thomas sermon from two years ago, you know that we have done Thomas wrong all these years. The gospel we heard today, and every second Sunday of Easter, is the story of the first appearance to the male disciples. I say male because Jesus already appeared to the women – first. Then he finds where the men are hidden away in a locked room and appears to them too. The only problem is that Thomas wasn’t there. When Thomas gets back, the others tell him what happened, and he refuses to believe it until he can see Jesus for himself. Because of this he’s often been called “Doubting Thomas,” as though somehow that’s a bad thing. But it isn’t.
Nope, being a Thomas isn’t a bad thing at all, but a necessary thing, for any person or community of faith. And that’s good new for us today to be sure, because the reason Jesus came back for Thomas wasn’t only about Thomas. Think about it…Thomas wanted to see the risen Jesus. This was a gospel written long after those who had the experience of the full glorified resurrected body of Jesus standing right in front of them have died. It was written for those who did not have the experience of those early apostles. So, who would that be? All of us.
Jesus came back for Thomas. What about us?
Jesus comes back for us too – all the time.
But, if we want to see Jesus, we need to embrace our Thomas nature. We, like Thomas, must seek the wounds of Christ, touch them, and be blessed by him. If we open our hearts to our own questions, to our own Thomas like faith, we can be open then to seeing the marks of Jesus too. No, I am not talking about the stigmata – the marks of the wounds on the hands and feet of Jesus, or the gash in his side from the spear. I am talking about something out there for all of us to see, but we so often miss it.
One of the things I love about living where I do out in Sussex County is the mystery of the night. By that, I mean that when I get up in the morning, especially if there is a new fallen snow, I will invariably see tracks on the ground. I often wonder what animals have passed by so close in the cloak of darkness. Sometimes, I can tell by the shape of the track they left, but sometimes it is a mystery to me. I don’t see them, but yet I know from the marks they left in the ground that they were here.
The marks that Thomas wanted to see are all around us too, just like tracks, if we only look for them. Our bishop, who will be visiting with us three weeks from now on the 24th, is fond of asking before every diocesan meeting “Where have you seen signs of God’s grace?” Another question could also be asked, and I think needs to be asked, “Where have you seen the marks of Jesus?” Where have you seen the marks of Jesus – because they are everywhere – in the poor, the stranger, the lonely, and the outcast. The wounds that are often inflicted by our own inhumanity – our inability to love as Jesus loved us.
And Jesus is here too. In the real presence of the Eucharist, yes, but also because, as God incarnate, Jesus is present in each of us too, but we often fail to see him. We fail to see what is right in front of us because we are looking for something else. We think this Jesus thing is to be experienced in a particular way…you know, like all those “other Christians” feel. We get lost thinking that there is a certain way to see or experience the risen Christ, or perhaps we are told that there is. All of which is kind of odd when you think about it, because if Jesus is the incarnate God, and God is love, then experiencing Jesus is about experiencing the love of God. Love is all about relationship, and folks, the resurrection is all about relationship too. And poor Thomas thought that relationship had ended on Good Friday. This gospel is telling us that it did not, and that his relationship, and ours, with Jesus continues.
The incarnation – Jesus – was for the sole purpose of bringing us all into a fuller relationship with our creator. It is a relationship of God’s love with all of creation. And I don’t know of any two love relationships that are exactly the same – do you?
Some people, when they love, get all PDA like (that’s public displays of affection folks) – very showy. Others are on the other extreme – married for life, but in that sort of British reserve – brief hug, if that, in public. Most of us are in between. The same is true for us in our relationship with Jesus, but you wouldn’t know it sometimes by the way we think about church and our faith.
I remember one woman saying to me once about the Eucharist “I just don’t feel anything sometimes.” She seemed to feel that she wasn’t doing something right – like there was something wrong with her faith. I told her “that’s okay, we all experience it differently, and we change in our experience of it.” The Eucharist, the real presence of Jesus, is a visceral experience of relationship, of love, and like love relationships, the feelings will change as we change. And so it is with all parts of our faith experience.
I’m reminded of something a priest friend and colleague, the Rev. Mary Davis, told me while attending the installation of another priest we both knew in seminary. She used this same story in her Good Friday sermon and has allowed me to share it with you:
She said, “A few years ago, I was looking for a worship experience that was different from our Episcopal tradition, so I decided to visit a […] Church nearby. I found the church through their website, and when I plugged the address into my GPS, I discovered that their house of worship was actually located inside [a nearby] movie theater […] Hard to get much more different than that.
But after I settled into my movie theater seat, the flow of worship was pretty much the same. There were scripture readings, hymns, and Prayers of the People, and preaching was the centerpiece of the morning worship. I felt totally comfortable and welcomed. That is, until it came time for the Peace; a part of the liturgy that, of course, we are all familiar with. Except that, on this day, as soon as the Peace was announced, the woman in front of me turned around to shake my hand and pointedly asked me, “Are you saved?”
I was stunned. This was definitely NOT the language we speak here in the Episcopal Church and it is definitely NOT how we greet one another at the Peace. But this woman was serious. She wanted an answer and her eyes locked on mine until I gave her one. At first, I only managed to squeak out a – “Well, I think so,” – but then, having said that, I picked up more confidence and changed my answer to a definitive, “Yes.” Yes, I am saved.”[1]
I don’t know if any of you have had a similar experience to that of my priest friend, but personally, I would have loved to have answered “No, I’m not saved, I’m an Episcopalian.” I’m kidding, sort of. You see, I think that woman was looking for something from my friend, a proclamation of faith to be sure, but implicit in the question was a sense that there was only one way to answer – only one way to experience Jesus. As if going around claiming to be saved, and asking others is a sign of true and strong faith – the no doubting, no questioning, all in or nothing sort of faith. As though anything other than that, and you aren’t really a follower of Jesus.
But I think that leaves no room for all us Thomases, the ones who want to say on any given day to that question “I think so, maybe, I’m not sure what that means” And I think that this type of proclamation request “are you saved?” is voiced for reasons the people asking are likely not fully conscious of. These obligatory proclamations (and some might argue our own creedal formulas we voice in church on Sundays) are designed to push aside all doubts, because the doubts scare the crap out of people who think it means that what they believe isn’t real. Nothing could be further from the truth. The truth that everyone is a Thomas – even that woman who asked my friend if she is saved, even everyone of us. But for our doubts to bring us into closer relationship with Jesus, as it did for Thomas, we must allow them to have voice, as much as we allow our creeds to have voice, as much as Thomas did, and not to suppress them. Because our daily life in this world of human pain and frailty, we cannot help but have doubts.
Frederick Buechner wrote “If you tell me Christian commitment is a kind of thing that has happened to you once and for all like some kind of spiritual plastic surgery, I say, you’re either pulling the wool over your own eyes or trying to pull it over mine. Every morning you should wake up in your bed and ask yourself: “Can I believe it all again today?” No, better still, don’t ask it till after you’ve read The New York Times, till after you’ve studied that daily record of the world’s brokenness and corruption, which should always stand side by side with your Bible. Then ask yourself if you can believe in the gospel of Jesus Christ again for that particular day.
If your answer’s always Yes, then you probably don’t know what believing means. At least five times out of ten the answer should be No, because the No is as important as the Yes, maybe more so. The No is what proves you’re human in case you should ever doubt it. And then, if some morning the answer happens to be really Yes, it should be a Yes that’s choked with confession and tears and … great laughter.”[2]
What Frederick Buechner is getting at is the essential Thomas in all of us, a trait we need if we are to really live out the faith that Jesus calls us to every day in this world. If we are to see the marks of Jesus, we must proclaim our desire to see them. And in that proclamation of need, Jesus will be seen, and will bless us as he blessed Thomas. Because Jesus is calling us to see him everywhere, to experience him in the Eucharist yes, but also in the wounded ones all over our neighborhoods and around the world.
So let’s get started. Let’s proudly be the Thomas we really are and need to be as a people of faith. We need to be Thomas, because in his demand to see Jesus, to touch his wounds, he was making the ultimate Christian commitment to mission, asking to see the pain of God over the injustice of humanity, and still proclaiming loudly his faith. And Jesus calls us all to do the same.
But to do that, we must remember that Thomas was allowed to give voice to his doubt, to claim his disbelief. So, now it is your turn.
In your bulletins, you were given a 3×5 card. We will take a longer silence after the sermon, and I want you think about all that you have heard. What question or questions do you have? It could be about God, about Jesus, about your own faith, about what we do here on a Sunday, or for that matter, why we are here on a Sunday….whatever that question is, write it down. You can write more than one if you want.
And then on the other side, write down this: Where have you encountered the marks of Jesus? Where have you seen Christ? And if you haven’t, just say so. That, in itself, is a Thomas proclamation, to be sure. Write those two things on each side – your doubts or questions, and your experience of the risen Christ.
When you are done, hold on to those cards to put them into the offering plate. You don’t have to put your names on them, though you can as a way of fully claiming your Thomas identity. But I do ask that you put them into the offering plate to be blessed at the altar.
Yes, we will have your questions blessed (and mine, I will do this too), just as Thomas was blessed. In a very real sense, it was a final beatitude we heard today, and it goes like this:
Blessed are those who doubt, for they will see Jesus. Amen.
For the audio from the 10:30am service, click below:
[1] From the Good Friday 2016 sermon by the Rev. Mary Davis. Used with permission.
[2] Frederick Buechner, The Return of Ansel Gibbs (Knopf, 1959), 303.
The Rev. Diana L. Wilcox
Christ Church in Bloomfield & Glen Ridge
April 3, 2016
Easter 2 – Year C
1st Reading – Acts 5:27-32
Psalm 150
2nd Reading – Revelation 1:4-8
Gospel – John 20:19-31
