It happens every year.
We leave church on Easter morning, thankful and satisfied that Jesus
didn’t stay in that tomb. That Jesus
rose again, just like he promised he would, after being murdered on that cross
on a hill outside Jerusalem.
It’s easy for us to leave that worship service and
celebrate. To shout our Alleluias and
drink sparkling wine and eat a nice dinner with family and friends. We might struggle a bit with the arc of Holy
Week. We might not completely understand
each of the events we marked during Holy Week as we experienced the story
anew. But we made it to Easter. We made it to the empty tomb, and we can now
go on with our lives knowing that Jesus died and rose. We’ve done our part to remember the story,
right?
Yes. And no. The story of Easter doesn’t end at the empty
tomb. Our Easter season only began last
Sunday and will continue until Pentecost, which this year, is June 9. Easter is 50 days. It is seven weeks long – one week longer than
Lent. And there is a lot that will
happen between Jesus and his followers in this time between his resurrection
and his upcoming Ascension.
The story continues with today’s Gospel, which happens the
same day Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and found it empty. The same day the men did not believe her
story. The same day they hid in the
upper room, fearful that they would be captured and crucified next.
Remember, the men did not believe Mary when she told them
Jesus had been raised from the dead. They
had to go to the tomb and check it out.
And then, Jesus appeared in that upper room, inside the
locked door and told all who were present, “Peace to you.” He showed them his hands and his feet, and
the stab wound in his side. Only then
did they recognize that this was Jesus.
Only then.
It didn’t matter to Jesus that they didn’t believe the
women. It didn’t matter that they didn’t
recognize him immediately. What mattered
was that he was there to give them a remarkable gift.
He breathed the Holy Spirit on them.
He knew that these people he loved had been hiding in a
room, frightened, and in all probability, angry at the people who had anything
to do with killing their friend.
What did he do? He
breathed the Holy Spirit upon them with words that just might have been as hard
to hear then and they might be today: “If you can forgive the sins of others, if
you can forgive Judas and Pilate and all those who chose Barabbas over me, you
can move on with your lives. I know that
what happened to me seems unforgivable, but you need, I need, you to forgive those who did this to me. Because when you do, you will be able to
follow the directions I’m about to give you.
If you don’t, your anger and hurt will eat you alive. You will be the ones who nurse
bitterness. Who will that help?”
Who indeed? Jesus
knew that if his followers remained locked up in that room with all that
bitterness and anger his resurrection wouldn’t mean anything. If they were left to wallow in their anger, if
their hurt and pain could simmer and then, eventually boil over, they would
likely forget all that they had been taught over those past few years.
We don’t know what happened next because the story jumps to
Thomas, who wasn’t there when Jesus popped in.
You know, Thomas was no different than the rest of the
crowd in that room, right? He needed
what every other person needed in these hours of grief. He needed to see Jesus.
But he missed it.
And when he returned, the mood was different. There was, hopefully, an air of forgiveness
and perhaps quiet conversation where earlier there perhaps had been outbursts
of anger, weeping and silence. Such a
dramatic change in so short a time. And Thomas,
who didn’t get the breath of God blown into him, was still angry and hurt and weeping. One of these things was not like the others.
Poor Thomas had to live like that, like a foreigner amongst
friends, speaking a different language, feeling lost in a strange land, for eight,
yes, eight whole days. Can you imagine
how tormenting that was?
On this second Sunday in Easter we always hear this
story. We take time talking about how Thomas
was a doubter and that he didn’t trust his companions when they told him the
story of Jesus popping in on them. But is
that fair?
Thomas was no different than the others. They didn’t believe the women. They couldn’t trust what Mary told them. And even though they all knew by this time that
the tomb was empty, none of the men had encountered the risen Christ.
All of them needed to see the scars before they could even
recognize this embodiment of Jesus. But
it is Thomas who we call “Doubting.”
Yet it is only Thomas who calls Jesus, “My Master! My God!” when he meets Jesus eight days after
the others.
This story ends with a message for each of us. We who will never see Jesus in the flesh and
still believe that he is the Messiah, the Savior, the Son of God will be given
blessings upon blessings.
That is the Good News.
We don’t have to see Jesus in the flesh to believe in
him. But we can see his acts of mercy
and love and justice being offered by others who have learned to love
Jesus. We can be those people, too.
We don’t have to have Jesus breathe the Holy Spirit upon us. But we can feel her presence in, around, and
through our bodies, minds and spirits when we least expect her Holy Comfort.
We don’t have to look far to know God. We are surrounded by God’s creation. But sometimes we don’t see God, sometimes the
world seems broken and hurting beyond our abilities to make a difference. Churches are bombed during Easter services in
Sri Lanka; a Synagogue in Poway, California is shot up on the last day of
Passover, Mosques are attacked during prayers in Christ Church, New Zealand,
and Palestinian schools are destroyed by Israelis. These make us wonder how others cannot see the
beauty of God’s creation in one another.
Sometimes we want to hide in our own upper rooms and weep
for the world and for ourselves.
Sometimes we want to nurse our own bitterness and remain angry. Sometimes we need to see proof that Jesus did
come out of that tomb.
But Jesus tells us we don’t need to do any of these
things. He tells us, as he told them, “Peace
to you. Just as the Father sent me, I
send you.” And he breathes the Holy
Spirit into us every day. He gives us
reason to go out of ourselves and open our arms to the world.
Let us pray.
Jesus, help us receive your
peace and love and then share that peace and love to the world. When it is hard for any of us to express
peace and love to the world because we are hurting or angry, give us strength
to forgive so that we are free to do all that you have given us to do. We may not ever put our fingers in your wounds,
we may never put our hands in your side, and there might be days we have a hard
time believing in your loving kindness, but Jesus, today we are reminded that
you died, that you resurrected, and that you ascended to be with our God so
that we can believe. We thank you. Amen.