Sermon for the Second Sunday of Easter (Part Two of the Stuck Series)

Preached on April 28, 2019 at Grace and Canadochly
Preaching Text: Doubting Thomas

Every year, on the Sunday after Easter, I enter this pulpit and give a vigorous defense of why Thomas is unfairly maligned as the doubter. One of the defenses I often raise is that he asks nothing of Jesus that the other disciples did not receive themselves and, to be honest, they wouldn’t have believed without seeing those things either.

Last Sunday, I contrasted life in the in-between time of Sunday morning before the tomb and the time after the resurrection has come. I said the women were stuck in the grief, the sorrow, and the fear of that pre-dawn time when all they’d believed and hoped for had come to naught.

But then, a miracle. An empty tomb. Angels proclaiming resurrection. Joy, relief, life instead of death. The best good news the women could have imagined. They run back to the disciples with this tremendous news and receive what can only be described as a rather chilly reception. An idle tale, Luke calls it. They do not believe.

And that brings us to the events of Easter evening. Word has come to them of a resurrected Jesus. They have heard the best news any of them could have imagined and what are they doing? They are hiding, living in fear of marching soldiers and vengeful religious authorities. The doors are locked. They sit paranoid that someone will come knocking, looking for the followers of the one crucified on Friday.

While talked about the women being stuck in their emotions as they marched dutifully to the tomb that morning, it quickly becomes clear they are far from alone. Even after the wondrous news of Christ risen, the disciples are still stuck. So Jesus comes into their midst, shows them his hands and his side. They rejoice to see Jesus. And that fixes everything (or at least it does for everyone but Thomas).

Or does it?

Fast forward to a week later. The disciples have heard the report of the women. The disciples have seen Jesus alive with their own eyes. The disciples have been given the gift of the Holy Spirit. They have everything they need to go out and change lives and the change the world and where are they? They are hiding, living in fear of marching soldiers and vengeful religious authorities. The doors are locked. They sit paranoid that someone will come knocking, looking for the followers of the one crucified a week ago Friday.

They’re still stuck.

But they are not alone. While I talked about the women being stuck in their emotions as they marched dutifully to the tomb, and I’ve talked about the disciples being stuck in their emotions as they cower in the upper room, there is another group often stuck just as they were. And that’s the modern day church. It’s us. We too are stuck with word of a tumultuous world where churches burn and people are slaughtered as they gather for worship. We too are stuck with images of empty churches that were once full and balance sheets full of red. We too are stuck in the grief, the sorrow, and the fear of having all we believed and hoped for and loved has seemingly come to naught.

So what gets us unstuck? Any of us? The women, the disciples, or ourselves?

Jesus certainly does all that he can. He returns again the following week to appear before the frightened disciples. He offers his hands and side once more, not merely just to Thomas, but all of them. The scriptures do not say explicitly, but it’s likely the women were there as well, seeing yet again the miracle. Jesus doing what he can for all of them to get them unstuck.

But what about us? Well, Jesus has not left us orphaned. He promised the Holy Spirit and we have that. It comes to us in the waters of baptism. It comes to us in the spoken word of Scripture and sermon. It comes to us in the bread and wine of communion. It comes to us in the love of friends and family. It comes in the beauty of the world. It’s all around us all the time. The question before us, are we looking for it?

It’s far too easy to let the terrors of this world and this life blind us to the Spirit’s presence among us. Far too easy to see only water in baptism, hear only words in the Bible, taste only bread and wine in communion. Despite there being so much more to all of these than that. Fear is our great enemy. More dangerous by far than doubt ever could be. Doubt wants to believe but cannot. Fear stops even that desire for belief.

And we see the results of fear all around us. Not just in declining churches, but in a declining world. All that frightens and unsettles us is the result of people caving into fear. I may get into trouble for saying this, but the terrorists on 9/11 succeeded beyond their wildest dreams all those years ago. They turned neighbors into threats, foreigners into enemies, and made us forget who we are as citizens of this great nation. We forgot our aspirations, our ideals, our goals and all the work we’d done towards them is now in danger of being undone.

So too the church. Fear has made us forget our aspirations, our ideals, our goals. It’s made us forget Jesus, his love, his mercy, his sacrifice on the cross for all the world. It’s made us not able to see the work of the Holy Spirit all around us. We are stuck in that upper room yet again. But Christ continues to come to us. He comes in more ways than we can imagine. He is always with us. His salvation can never be taken from us. He will always love us. Why do we fear? Open your eyes. Open your heart and you will see him. Amen.