Second Sunday of Easter
April 11, 2010
Sermon by Rev. Dr. Marcus Pera
The
Holy Gospel according to
When
it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the
house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came
and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands
and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced
when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to
them again, “Peace be with you. As the
Father has sent me, so I send you.” When
he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy
Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any,
they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”
But
Thomas, (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when
Jesus came. So the other disciples told
him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he
said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my
finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
A
week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with
them. Although the doors were shut,
Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here
and see my hands. Reach out your hand
and put it in my side. Do not doubt but
believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord
and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have
you believed because you have seen me?
Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
Now
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 may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of
God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.
The
Gospel of Our Lord.
In the
name of Our Risen Savior, Jesus Christ, sisters and brothers, grace, mercy, and
peace be unto you. Amen.
Well,
here we are, a week after Easter Sunday.
Here we are, a week after the Festival of the Resurrection of Our
Lord. I like to think of Easter as a
“yes” day. It’s a bold affirmation of
the Gospel story, “He is not here. He is
risen.” I like to think of it as a “yes”
day in relation to our singing, which is filled with gusto and fortissimo,
singing that says, “Jesus Christ is risen today. Alleluia!” I like to think of it as a “yes” day in
relation to the greeting that the early church used, again with exuberance and
with enthusiasm, “The Lord is risen. He
is risen, indeed. Alleluia!”
But
here we are a week later, a week later and perhaps some of that strong “yes”
affirmation has worn off just a little bit.
Perhaps now there is some lingering uncertainty, some question. Perhaps now is more one that says: “Is this
really true, what we were saying last Sunday?”
“Is this really actual, that Jesus rose from the dead?” And if it is actually true, then what
difference does it make for you, what difference does it make for me?
The
Gospel Lesson in this, the First Sunday after Easter, or in Easter, is one in
which it is read every year. It is part
of each of the three lectionary series, and it is the story that includes
Thomas. Thomas is the person who has
been dubbed with the title also of “Doubting Thomas.” It’s interesting that it’s happened, in one
sense, because Thomas’s confession of faith is an extremely bold confession of
faith. And yet we don’t talk about
Thomas as confessor.
I would
like to talk about Thomas this morning and the journey that is happening for
all of us as we work and struggle with our faith. But it’s a journey in terms of going from
doubter to confessor. Or the word
substitute that I would use, and that is “searching,” to go from searching to
confessing.
Walter
Burghardt, a Roman Catholic priest, practiced, as probably every Roman
Catholic, I guess, has, that when they are confirmed they can choose a
name. And Walter Burghardt chose the
name “Doubting Thomas.” And in his
words, he said that he almost scandalized his pious aunt. She just sat there and said, “Doubting
Thomas. Oh, no!” He could have pulled, you know, Thomas
Aquinas, the great scholar and theologian; he could have pulled Thomas More. But, no, “Doubting Thomas.”
Once
again, it’s interesting how that has so stuck.
I have not done the research, but I would venture to say that that title
of “Doubting Thomas” goes back very early on.
And it seems to me that perhaps one of the reasons for this is that kind
of every person on the journey of faith, that has his or her ups and downs, has
his or her questions and struggles.
Perhaps everyone feels that they’d like to have a patron saint, a story
in scripture to which they can relate in the midst of these kinds of struggle. At any rate, so we have the story of
Thomas.
What is interesting is the word “doubt” is never used in
this story; the Greek word is not used.
What is used is the word “pistis,” the Greek for “faith.” And then “apistis.” Sort of like, moral and amoral, which means
without morals, or faith and/or without faith. And we trace the conversation between Jesus
and Thomas and recognize that what Jesus is saying that you believe, or are
believing, but don’t move at this point of decision for you, Thomas, to one of
unbelieving.
It is
interesting that out of the Church of Finland some years ago came a new liturgy
titled “The Saint Thomas Mass.” The Saint
Thomas Mass was developed trying to be more consistent with our current
cultural context, which is identified frequently as a post-modern context. And in a post-modern context, there is more
of a reliance on experience as a way of knowing. And so this liturgy provides for more
experiential opportunities. And also in
this post-modern context, there is also an affirmation and an understanding
that we function within the midst of radical pluralism. And so this liturgy also gives opportunity
for more variety of movement, and once again experience it.
When
we’re talking about this search, and this quest, and this walk of faith, that
certainly Thomas triggers for us this day, it is also helpful for us to hear a
little bit or remind ourselves a little bit of the work that has been done in
the area of faith development. People
like Jim Fowler, and people like John Westerhoff, talking about the development
of faith, that begins obviously for a child with what is titled or called
“inherited faith.” We are born into that
faith, the faith probably of our parents for most all of us. It’s a faith that we learn what we do and who
we are in relationship to what we inherited.
We go a
little bit farther into it, in probably childhood to early adolescence, and
there is a title that is used of “belonging.”
And we discover who we belong to.
We belong to a church, to the ELCA, to Immanuel Lutheran
congregation. And we are nurtured in our
understanding and our faith by understanding what we are a part of and what
they do and how they do and how they act.
And then farther into this journey is the one that is the most
adolescent or young-adult one, and that is a “searching” time. It’s during this time that people ask
themselves the question: “Is this really what I believe?” And it is during this time where there is
awareness in a new kind of way of the numerous possibilities and options that
are out there in the world. And so they
begin to see all of those, and sometimes say, “These many multiple options, it
doesn’t really matter what you believe as long as you believe,” or a statement
like, “It’s just kind of a wasteland out there.” People need distance during that time. Often it isn’t understood, and people aren’t
affirmed in their quest. And a lot of
times they leave faith communities and don’t return because of their experience
during those years.
And
then finally there is an “owned” faith; a time in which we say that “I make
that commitment. I feel that to be the
faith that I affirm and confess.” I like
to refer to that as kind of our journey, where life is kind of a stream of
water, and we kind of step out and we see some stone here, and we kind of test
it and see how firm it is and whether it fits us. And there are multiple other stones around
there. Perhaps we step back and try
another one. We finally find what seems
to be and makes the most sense for us to be the experience that resonates with
us, to be that which we affirm and take on our self, and we begin to shape
commitment around and shape life around us.
This is the kind of journey that takes place. It’s never that clean—here’s step
one, step two, step three, step four—where all is kind of intertwining perhaps
between all of those. But it’s helpful
to describe the journey that we have and that takes place.
Now,
what about Thomas in the midst of this?
Thomas was one that wanted some certainty within his search. Thomas didn’t really want something that the
other disciples didn’t have. His request
wasn’t that unusual. The other disciples
were together the week after Easter in the upper room, behind closed and locked
doors. And Jesus appeared to them, and
he showed them his hands and his side.
They had seen the Risen Christ, and during the week they undoubtedly
told Thomas, “We have seen the Risen Christ.”
But Thomas wanted the same thing.
He said, “Unless I see, unless I put my hands into his side.”
The
Gospel of John was written perhaps around the year 80 or 85. Jesus was, say, crucified around the year 30. Some 50 years later this is being written,
being written in a sense to also speak to the people, what about those who have
not seen and yet believe? That included
the others; that includes you and includes me.
But yet Thomas, one of the Apostles, wanted to see. And when Jesus showed him—and the
importance is there and we shouldn’t miss it, of the crucified Jesus, the one
whose marks showed that he had been the one that was crucified for them—then Thomas
responds. He wants proof, but he gets
presence. He gets the reality of the
presence of Jesus. And he responds with
this bold confession, “My Lord and my God.”
It is pointed out that “My Lord and my God” is also the statement that
was used possibly by the Emperor Domitian, the one who had persecuted the
Christians most severely during the time when John’s Gospel was written, and
who took that designation on himself, as part of the “pax romana,” the one that
in effect was god for the Roman Empire and all their subjects, “My Lord and my
God.” And here it is Thomas that says,
in this bold confession of allegiance to Jesus Christ, “You are my Lord and you
are God.”
As we
make our journey in faith, and as we go along in that journey, what do we learn
and receive and experience out of this?
First of all, that the Apostles were witnesses to the resurrection of
Jesus Christ, firsthand; the Apostles, along with Paul, who said as one born
out of time. And they are the ones who
now tell and share this story; and the story that is contained in scripture,
which is so important to us, because Jesus makes his appearance to us within
that spoken and proclaimed and written Word of God. Jesus is embodied there,
and we experience the presence of the living Christ. We experience also the presence of the
resurrected Christ, with the nail marks in his hands, as he comes to us in his
body and blood. The living Jesus
present, and also saying, “Take, eat.
This is my body.” “Take, drink,
this is my blood.” And we see it, this
Risen Christ, in the transformative lifestyle and presence and witness of
Christians around us.
Father
Capon, an Episcopal priest, in his book, “From
Noon till Three,” writes so graphically when he says that “making things
jump out of nothing is God’s favorite act.”
He creates us out of nothing, and he raises us up from it. Jesus came to raise the dead, not to improve
the improvable; not to perfect the perfectible, but to raise the dead. He never met a corpse that didn’t sit right
up then and there. And he never meets us
without bringing us out of nothing into the joy of his resurrection, you and
me.
Jesus,
present here this morning, resurrected and raising us up anew. And we, too, then make our bold confession,
“My Lord and my God!” And we are people
who then are called to tell that story out there in the world, in both words
and actions. Not too much doubt on this
Second Sunday after Easter.
In the
name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.