John 20:19-31
Thanks to the writers of our Revised Common Lectionary, year after year, on this weekend, the second Sunday of Easter, the assigned Gospel lesson is always the same. That text you just heard me read, from John chapter 20. This post resurrection story – the risen Jesus appearing to the disciples, minus Thomas, on the evening of Easter… then again, a week later, that Thomas would experience what the others already have…
And year and after year, pastors serving in congregations that follow the Revised Common Lectionary, like we do here at St. James, because of this disciple Thomas and his refusal to believe, will preach on the intersection between doubt and faith, pointing to the one who has, rightly or wrongly, become known as the bible’s most famous doubter – a.k.a. Doubting Thomas.
“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.”
John records that it was evening on the first day of the week – late in the day of the Resurrection.
As John writes, the scene shifts from one space to another. From the tomb burst open by Jesus’ Resurrection. To the Upper Room – locked out of fear… the disciple’s, worried that Jesus’ fate would become their own…
It’s here, in this locked room – the disciples cutting themselves off from the outside world, grieving and afraid, unsure what to do next, their endless questions of what has taken place, of what the future holds – that the risen Christ appears, greeting them with a word of peace… showing them his hands and his side to prove it’s really him… and extending the promise of life in his name. Doing the same a week later for Thomas – who would not believe, unless he saw for himself as the others already had.
A little over a year ago, I stumbled across one of those news stories you don’t easily forget. The story of Lena Skye… a toddler – a little girl, not quite a year and a half…
Baby Lena was born in the summer of 2022 at just 28 weeks – weighing just one pound. On top of those risks that come an early delivery and low birth weight, Lena had cerebrospinal fluid built up in her brain. And so, with no other option, it was off to surgery, a shunt placed with hopes of redirecting the fluid.
After nearly three months of inpatient observation, Lena was released to go home with her parents – though the journey was far from over. Appointments with pediatricians and neurologists filled the calendar, with physical therapy in between.
For a time, Lena appeared to be making progress. Then, in January, just a few months after her discharge, her parents unable to wake her from sleep, it was back to the hospital again, her mom giving CPR on the way. Recognizing she needed a greater level of care, Lena was transferred to University of Kentucky Hospital, where, upon her arrival, doctors discovered that the shunt placed in her brain shortly after her birth had ruptured… That too much time had passed… That there was nothing that could be done…
In the midst of unimaginable grief, faced with removing life support, Lena’s older brother Cody suggested she be an organ donor. He said it was his birthday wish. Holding back the tears, mom and dad agreed. And so, this lifeless little girl was rushed off to the operating room for the final time – in her death, giving what she had to extend life to those in need. Her kidneys going to a 44-year-old man. Her liver to an 8-month-old baby girl. Her heart, to a 15-month-old boy.
As the story goes, less than a year after Lena’s death, her parents received the opportunity to meet the little boy who received her heart – Mark. Lena’s mom, Denise, able to hold him in her arms… Placing her ear to his chest – able to listen to her daughter’s heart… to hear it pumping… to feel it beating… allowing another to have life… In that moment, laying her head on this little boy’s chest, she was with her baby girl again… Wouldn’t we all want to have that moment in such a situation?
And if we stop to think about it, isn’t this the world of Thomas – wanting so deeply to be reunited with his Lord who he loved so much. To be with him… to touch him… to hold him one final time, if only for a moment… To experience his peace…
My first year here at St. James – back when I was the young pastor on staff – our youth group theme revolved around this unfortunate reality of life, that everybody is fighting a battle you cannot see. Everyone is fighting a battle you cannot see…
That, regardless of how good, how picture perfect, life appears to be on our various Facebook feeds – behind closed doors, we all have our battles. We all have struggles. We all have hurts. We all have fears. We all have doubts. We all are in need of experience the hope of new life… of experiencing peace…
Like our friend Judas, Thomas draws the short end of the stick – gaining the worst of reputations from his short lived actions recorded in today’s gospel… forever to be known as Doubting… Though, as much as Thomas has been typecast as this unbelieving, doubting, disciple… he stands as a connecting point for us as Christians called to believe without having seen…
We don’t get the opportunity to experience the risen Christ in the same way as the disciples. We don’t get to see him face to face. We don’t get to see the mark of the nails or the hole in his side… to touch him… Yet we are called to believe none the less. And for Gospel writer John, this is the point of his telling this story – that you may come to believe… and through believing you may have life in his name… The you is you. The you is me. The you is each of us.
Across our community and across the world, doors are closed out of fear and sorrow. Locked behind them are the broken in body, mind, and spirit. Children who go to bed hungry. Parents who feel as though nothing they do is enough – that they just don’t have what it takes. Friends who live in shame over this or that. Neighbors afraid to be who they really are. Loved ones who are lonely. Relationships that are falling apart. This is the world in which we live. People fighting battles we cannot see.
But today, this weekend, we are reminded that while we don’t experience Jesus as those first disciples, we do experience him in each other – for we, you and I, are the Body of Christ. Each of us sent out into the world in Christ’s name, with wounds of our own, called to go through life’s many locked doors… to stand among and with those in need… to bring peace and the hope of new life…
As you leave this place and go about your week, what locked doors might you open? What forgiveness do you need to offer or ask for? How might you extend peace and restore hope? How might you share the beating heart of Jesus that rests inside of you with someone else, extending new life with someone who believe they will never again see someone they love? For whom death consumes? What doors might you open?
On this second Sunday of Easter, the Resurrection promise assures us that there is no door Christ can’t break through, not even the gates of death. May His peace be with you. And may you have life and share life in his name. Amen.
~Pastor Andrew Geib
Sermons at St. James Gettysburg 