April 11 Easter II
On Easter Sunday evening, the disciples were huddled together behind locked doors. Loss, loneliness, fear, dashed hopes and dreams filled the air.
You’ve probably ‘been there’ if someone close to you has died, huddled together with family and friends in someone’s living room. Someone you loved, enjoyed, and perhaps depended on will never be with you again, not in the same way. A son or brother may be missing from the group– because the pain was so great, he simply couldn’t face it yet.
That’s what happened to Thomas. He was one of Jesus’ most devoted disciples. No one mentioned where he was; but we know some people need more time alone; others need the immediate support of community. All we is know Thomas came late and missed the appearance of Jesus.
That was not the end of it for Thomas. Even if he didn’t believe his friends, he stayed with them. Jesus returned and offered the same experience to Thomas that he had offered to the others. “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” [2] Jesus repeated what he had done with the others. He patiently offered to Thomas what he needed to believe in his resurrection.
Even though Thomas had doubted the report of his otherwise trusted companions, Jesus did not chastise or condemn him. Jesus showed Thomas the same compassion he had shown many others in the days preceding his death: to Judas whom he didn’t condemn for betraying him in the garden, “Friend,” Jesus said, “do what you are here to do.”[3] for the angry crowd calling for his crucifixion, he prayed, “Forgive them Father for they do not know what they are doing;”[4] and to the murderer who hung next to him, he said, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.”[5]
William Willimon, former dean of religion at Duke University, noted that Thomas and those disciples were to be the ones walking confidently out into the world, full of the Holy Spirit, announcing the triumph of God, and, here they were hiding, hoping no one would find them.
This huddle of disciples, Willimon said, is “the church at its worst: scared, disheartened, and defensive.” Is this the “Everyone is welcome” church? I don’t think so. “Open minds, open hearts, open doors” church? No, Willimon says, “This is the church of the sweaty palms and the shaky knees.”[6]
This is the kind of church capable of doing what was done to a friend of mine last weekend. She went to a fish fry at her parents’ home. Most of the guests were people from her parents’ church. A little self-appointed committee of them chastised my friend for not coming to church any more, and shamed her for not bringing her son. Someone else chimed in, we should just pick him up and bring him, adding You know your mother prays for you all the time. Her parents said she should be glad their friends cared, but she only experienced sweaty palms and shaky knees that day.
Sweaty palms and shaky knees wasn’t the end of it for the first church in that locked room. Could it even be called a church? no altar, no choir, no creed, no conviction. This church had nothing going for it – except ONE thing: When they were together, the risen Christ ignored their locked doors, their downcast expressions, and burst right in on them.
Maybe, whether it’s apparent or not, on any given day that’s how at least some of us are feeling. Behind the carefully executed liturgy, the beautiful stained glass, the stunning music, maybe there are some sweaty palms and shaky knees. But, by the grace of the living God, the Holy Spirit slips through our closed doors and hearts, and there is joy-filled and thankful worship, not because the pews are full, or there are no mistakes in the Service sheets, or the child care is really good, the music unsurpassed, but because our hearts have been strangely warmed by the palpable presence of God with us.
If you want to see what the church could be, listen to that passage in John again. “… the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews.” Just fill in one of our own fears to bring it home – say street people. Without the presence of God this is who we could be or worse — squabbling over staffing or construction projects or that age old question: is it our place to take care of other people’s needs or should they take care of themselves?
The good news is, it was to this church that the risen Christ came and said, “Peace be with you.”[7] Into the midst of their fear and confusion, came a presence, a voice, not accusing them of running away or forgetting everything he had told them, not chastising them for their hopelessness, but breathing on them, giving them the Holy Spirit, and telling them he was sending them out into the world, with the power even to forgive sins.
To the church which had nothing, Christ gave everything: peace, Spirit, mission. That’s why we’re called the church. Through baptism and communion and opening our hearts to the Word of God, we are given peace, Spirit, and mission, a mission to the whole world in Jesus’ name.
Easter is the season in which we celebrate the power of God over death and the gift of new life in Christ. As you look around you, you will see the Risen Christ reassuring us and giving us whatever we need to carry on his work – just as he gave Thomas what he needed to believe. Amen.