Sermon for April 11, 2021 - The Second Sunday of Easter, Year B, The Rev. Jeffrey W. Mello

Easter Two – Year B

Preached on April 11, 2021

At St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Brookline, MA

The Reverend Jeffrey W. Mello

Acts 4:32-35

Psalm 133

1 John 1:1 - 2:2

John 20:19-31

I am tempted to say that there are two kinds of people in the church; doubters and liars, but I know that’s a false dichotomy.  But doubting is certainly part of my experience, and it has been the experience of every single person of faith I have known; friends, clergy colleagues, bishops.  Even Jesus on the cross wonders why he has been forsaken.  

I know doubt to be an integral part of my faith.  Without allowing for doubt, we rely only on facts, and who has facts when it comes to matters of the Divine?  We are called to lives of faith, not lives of fact.  As a person of faith, I am in pursuit not of facts, but of truths.  I believe that the entirety of scripture is True, capital T.  And some of it is also fact.

Our idolatry of certainty and intolerance of doubt leaves many of us feeling as though we are living only partly true lives of faith.  

It makes us wonder if we “believe enough” or if we are imposters, faking our way through our relationship with God.

Quite contrary to a cautionary tale, I hold Thomas up as an example of what it takes to know the reality of the resurrection, what it truly means to be in a relationship with the Risen Christ.

Thomas doesn’t ask for anything the other disciples didn’t get.  Thomas is no less longing to know the risen Christ than they were, he is not flawed, he does not have a deficit of willingness to believe.  He just isn’t convinced that the absence of Jesus’ body proves that Christ is alive.  

He doesn’t ask to see the empty tomb.  He doesn’t say he will believe when he sees Jesus ascending into the clouds crowned in glory and accompanied by a chorus of angels singing Alleluia!  

He wants to see the wounds.  He wants to see the body of Christ bearing the marks of what the world did to the embodiment of God’s love in this world.

Thomas tells his friends who claim to have seen the risen Christ, “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.”

And, lest we have forgotten,  just four verses earlier, the author of John’s Gospel tells us that when Jesus was with the rest of the disciples a week before, he “showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.”

The 11 disciples see the wounds in the body of Christ and they believe.  Thomas sees the wounds and believes, but he is the doubter?  Notice he does not touch the wound.  He does not put his hand in Jesus’ side.  He, like the others, sees the wounds in the body of Christ, and he believes.

I’m sure the point of making Thomas the doubter was to encourage those who would come generations after the events in this Gospel to trust the testimony of those who have come before, those who were there, those whose Gospel story is being shared.

That Jesus says that those who believe without seeing are “blessed” is not saying that they are “better,” though we have come to understand being blessed as being better.  It simply means they have reason to be “happy.”  Happy are those who trust in this testimony, and who haven’t seen for themselves.

Now, that I believe.  I have my whole life been envious of those whose faith and trust in God appears effortless, for that has not been my experience at all.  

I, like Thomas, and like all those gathered in that upper room, I have needed to see the risen Christ myself.  Most importantly, I have needed to see the wounds and the wounds have shown me the risen Christ.

I haven’t known a lot of empty tombs in my life.  Like most of you, I have come face to face with the broken body of Christ more than I have the Christ robed in royal majesty standing triumphant with his foot on the grave.

And it has been in those moments when the Body of Christ has gotten my attention by showing me where it has been broken, that I have been able to see that the wound on which I am focused actually belongs to a Body of Christ that is not vanquished, not defeated, not dead, but alive.

I see the evidence of the worst things the world can do first, and then I come to see the glory of the power of love and life that is bigger than the wound on which I am currently focused.

I have been one of those who are blessed, but not because I believe without seeing, but because I have been privileged to see in order that I might believe.

Families grieving have shown me the love that continues to live on.

Young people coming out show me the love that gives them strength and courage to be who it is God has made them to be.

Confronting our need for racial equity in this country has shown me the love that cries out for justice for the whole Body of Christ.

The poor indigenous women of rural Guatemala have shown me the love that keeps them going in the face of unimaginable obstacles.

The line at the Food Pantry that now stretches down the block points to the love of those who fight obstacle after obstacle to provide for their family, and the love of those who work tirelessly to feed their neighbors.

Those struggling with addiction have shown me a love that reminds me there is always the possibility of new life.

The wounds in the body of Christ have shown me the power of the resurrection.

It has not been the absence of life’s scars -- empty tombs of radiant light -- that have drawn me to the heart of God, but the wounds, the scars, the evidence of the worst life can bring that has consistently brought me to my knees and shown me the risen Body of Christ before my eyes.

I am blessed.  Because throughout my life, like Thomas, Jesus has called to me, over and over again, inviting me to see his punctured hands.  To reach out my hand and see the gash in his side that the world put there.

And sometimes, I have been lucky enough to get a glimpse of the resurrected body of Christ of which that punctured hand or torn side is a part; and I have been set on my heels with only “my Lord and my God” on my lips.

It is interesting, isn’t it, that Thomas asks to see the marks of the nails and the wound in Jesus' side in the first place?  No one tells Thomas that’s how Jesus appeared.

Thomas knew that the true resurrected body of Christ would bear the wounds.  It had to have scars.  Thomas knew that the Spirit of the risen Christ would enter our lives through our own broken places, through our wounds and our gashes, the places where we, as the Body of Christ in this world, have been broken open.

He doesn’t expect to see Christ risen with the proof of his crucifixion erased. Thomas knows that the power of the resurrection isn’t that it erases or pretends that the breaking open didn’t happen.  It’s that the breaking open didn’t win.  The wounds don’t testify to the power of death, but to the power of God, the power of love and life to overcome death.

Thomas sees the wounds, not the empty tomb, and he believes.

My Lord and my God!

AMEN.

1 While all direct and indirect quotes are always cited, there are sources I read regularly in preparation for sermon writing.  Chances are thoughts have been spurred by these sources and so I list the usual suspects here:  David Lose, In the Meantime, The New Interpreters Bible, Sacra Pagina

© 2021 The Reverend Jeffrey W. Mello