26 Apr SUNDAY, APRIL 24, 2022
First of all I’d like to thank Brad for choosing songs with lyrics that tie in so well. Tie in not only to this week’s gospel text, but to what’s happening in the world on a large scale, both near and far away: the problems of loneliness, fatigue and need. Overlap between gospel text, song and current events is profound.
Humans experience time and time again, a risen Christ who shows up. As needed, again and again, Jesus comes to lead and guide, open people’s eyes and hold their hands. Let’s go to where the disciples are hiding: behind not only closed, but locked doors.
There they are, the minority, the group equivalent of being a lonely person. The Jews represent the majority, a larger group, the ones in power with strong connections to even greater power. We are members of both. In some contexts, we sense our weakness. In others, we enjoy status. For most of us, where we choose to go is based on how we’re going to feel once we arrive.
Often membership affords status, but sometimes even within select groups, a local club, church or other affiliated gathering, people can still feel alone. Loneliness isn’t a number, it’s a perceived state, a moment when, like the disciples, we notice marked contrast.
We see differences between us and them: in power, strength, or numbers, differences in the amount of square footage, land, other resources or well-being. What they seem capable of appears greater than what we can do.
What entire communities experience, what some demographic groups contend with equally conjures up trauma, the likes of witnessing things as brutal and deadly as crucifixion. Ordinary citizens don’t hold majority power; they rarely choose what alliances their countries form or how governments participate on the world stage.
When the outside world (or the whole world) seems threatening, vulnerability is heightened. People feel something’s terribly wrong and out of control. How else can you feel when you hear about wildfires that burn for weeks or see daily footage of death and destruction?
What makes you feel that way?
The disciples no longer felt safe. The news was bad. They were tired and unprepared for what already happened and may happen in the future. Without Jesus, all they knew to do right then was withdraw and hide. Who else could comfort, advise or reassure them? When options seem limited, the frame of reference which shapes our perception shrinks to the size of closed, locked doors.
What Jesus offers his disciples is a chance to reframe their point of reference. He comes and stands among the frightened and lonely saying, “Peace be with you.” His words not only comprise speech, but deliver what’s needed, the tangible presence of a once fellow sufferer who now can offer to lift suffering others out of their misery.
How have you experienced that? Who has offered their calm presence and the benefit of prior experience? Scripture says, “Jesus showed them his hands and side.” His tangible presence was real and could be trusted. His tangible presence assured them. His identifiable traits were recognizable. His mere presence brought joy to those who saw and believed.
Then Jesus repeated and explained what his words and presence meant. In a similar way, when allied troops or humanitarian groups show up, deliver aid, or rescue victims, the suffering need the same kind of assurance the disciples did. Those who suffer trauma require those who are sent to explain repeatedly who they are, why they have come and what their mission is, as Jesus did.
After he spoke, he offered something beyond their reach, hope for the future, something only he could offer and bestow, the gift of God’s Holy Spirit. Spirit is given intangibly through air, but is as real as breath, as tangible as citizenship. With it came permanent power and agency. The power to forgive both present and future sin permanently. What Jesus in fact gave was not to temporarily bolster them.
What Jesus in fact gave was asylum, first as a place. Jesus created an inviolable place of refuge and protection beyond what closed locked doors could provide. Historically, asylum by definition is an inviolable place of refuge and protection offering shelter. To whom? Criminals and debtors. Imagine that. Asylum was once considered the least moral thing society could offer the most undeserving.
But Jesus’ words, presence and gift of Spirit aren’t enough for some. Thomas took the stance of Judge Judy, “You can’t tell me what someone else said or did. I must hear and see it from them myself. Your words are not admissible, are merely hearsay and purely subjective. Show me proof.”
Jesus knew humans are not easily convinced and need to have evidence presented in more than one way, multiple times. So a week later, he greets Thomas with the same peace, assurance, and chance to tangibly experience his resurrection firsthand. The goal is not doubt, but belief. What proof do you need before you’re willing to consider the unbelievable? What proof do others need before they can hope for what they have never experienced?
Thomas, like us, wanted a reality check, wanted to see video footage with sound, wanted to witness for himself. He didn’t want to hear the testimony of others. He needed firsthand experience in the most literal sense. “My finger goes in the mark of the nails and my hand goes in his side. Until I do these things, I won’t believe.”
Media coverage has done a convincing job of showing details of suffering in places like Afghanistan and Ukraine. Perhaps if media coverage was as effective with regard to persons in other places needing asylum, the world would be sympathetic to their suffering, fear, and needs, too.
Jesus says, “If you doubt and need more evidence before believing, it’s available.” In the end, one still has to make a choice whether to believe and whom to acknowledge. Those two goals go hand in hand because if you believe but don’t acknowledge, belief is a privately held thought rather than inspiration.
What Jesus demonstrated to each of the twelve on separate and numerous occasions was this: inspiration leads to doing, it leads to giving other people agency, to confidence that whatever they decide and do will impact not only them but others. Jesus offers peace at the outset of every visit once resurrected. Peace is the bedrock of subsequent interaction. As the Father has sent him, so we are sent.
We have been breathed upon and given agency, the power to choose. To forgive or not to forgive will either benefit or hurt. Sins will either be forgiven or prevail, be recorded or expunged.
“A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut,” [they were not locked]. I added that part. Jesus came, stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Offering peace is not a once and done deal. That’s why as a minimum, we offer God’s peace every Sunday, not only as spoken words but in an effort to demonstrate tangible presence.
Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” When we used to shake hands during the passing of peace it was not unlike reaching out and touching Jesus’ hand and side.
Jesus willingly literally offered himself in the flesh before, during and after death. This possibility, this reality, that the physical body is able to transcend death in a believable way, in a recognizable way is awesome. Not many other life after death scenarios include this element of redemption for creation, equating physical matter with spiritual worth.
Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” There are many signs that have been done not written in this book, but these were written so we may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God.
And that, through believing you may have life in his name. Have life in his name, testify to it, share and pass it on. Hold the hand of the lonely, offer your presence, share your experience of suffering and pain. Actively compassionately listen, meet a need, be the proof that life after trauma and death is possible, that closed locked doors won’t always be necessary.
To paraphrase: there is a darkness as black as can be, where the heart feels alone and cries, “Lord, don’t hide your face from me.” That was Thomas’ cry and is the cry of many in our world. How will you hold someone’s hand in the great unknown? Will you help a person seeking refuge? Will you let someone know that they don’t stand alone? Thomas stood alone as the lone unbeliever. Who do you know that protests disbelief and could use reassurance? Who do you see in need?
Let the media influence you to do something good for a change. Research the state of affairs in other countries from which people flee and seek refuge. Be the face, hands and side of the resurrected Christ made not only visible, but tangible to those who fear. Let us pray.
Lord, we know that nothing good is possible without your empowering grace. Agency is a gift, as is your Spirit. May we give and forgive rather than withhold, for you were sent and came to the lonely and suffering, offering peace and delivery from captivity.
Help us do the same in your holy name, to live and offer resurrected life, to pray and find eternal life through that same holy name, as you hold our hand, open our eyes, and lead the world from places of darkness to places of refuge and good companionship toward the light of peace. Amen.