What would it take?
Link to video: https://www.facebook.com/138797592802860/videos/869553316854148
Thumbnail image: “Doubting Thomas” by Giovanni Serodine (1594-1630), in public domain
Clare L Hickman
St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Ferndale
April 19, 2020—Easter 2A
John 20:19-31
On the second Sunday of Easter, in churches across the world and throughout the ages, innumerable sermons have been preached in defense of doubt. I do not rise to object to this, but simply to say that I think the spiritual value of doubt goes without saying. Plus, there are so many other great things going on in this story, that I can never resist exploring them.
Honestly, what’s NOT to love about Thomas? Here, all the rest of the disciples are huddled in the upper room. For admittedly good reason: there are soldiers about, making inquiries into known associates of this rabble-rouser who needed to be executed; there are rumors of grave-robbing. It’s not safe out there; and besides, there’s comfort to be had in grieving together. Still, Thomas is out and about.
He always was a brave one. When Jesus heard about the death of Lazarus and insisted on going, despite the danger, Thomas rallied the disciples, “We must go with him, even if it means we die with him” (John 11:10-16). That’s Thomas. So now, he’s out on the streets. Perhaps seeking information, maybe getting food for the house. Whatever the reason, he’s out from behind the locked doors.
But while he was out, he missed it. He wasn’t there when the rest of the disciples discovered that Jesus had risen from the dead. When Thomas returns, they are overjoyed, and he is devastated.
I need to see him, he insists. I need to see him, and actually touch him. And I need to see the wounds!
If there aren’t any wounds, then it isn’t him.
If there aren’t any wounds, then he didn’t die.
If there aren’t any wounds, then none of it is real.
Honestly, I don’t know why Thomas needed to see the wounds. I just know that’s what he said. He knew what he needed. He knew what the sign would have to be. He knew what it would take, for him to believe and trust in something as crazy and powerful as Resurrection!
Which leads me to the question: what would it take for YOU to believe in Resurrection? What kind of sign or demonstration or miracle would make it real for you? What would revive your hope? What would awaken salvation within you? What would ignite your awareness of Jesus’ abiding presence?
What would it take, for you to believe in Resurrection?
Would a seemingly small sign of life’s power be enough, like the crocuses I was talking about last week? Or do you want to go big, and require a “Lazarus up from the grave” occurrence? Is that what you need, what you want, what you secretly long for?
Jesus breathed his peace into the disciples. Does that sound like resurrection? A fresh start after some difficult marriage counseling. A treaty bringing a long war to an end. An agreement to stop manufacturing certain weapons. One civil discussion reaching across the political divide. A calming of your near-constant anxiety. If you saw any of that, would resurrection seem real?
Jesus sent his disciples out to preach forgiveness, and for many of us, that would speak resurrection. To be able to forgive something that has gnawed at us for years now... To be forgiven, for something we thought we would carry for the rest of our lives, for something we thought would mark and shame us to eternity… That gift, that miracle is the risen Christ appearing to you, in the flesh.
How big a thing would it need to be? And what sign of the power of Jesus would make the resurrection real to you: so that it lives in you, so that it gives you hope, so that it brings you joy and sends you out to spread that good news?
The signs are powerful, because they are actual glimpses of Jesus, because they bring us face to face … with Jesus. That’s what Thomas really wanted. After Mary Magdalene met and talked with Jesus in the garden, she ran to the other disciples to tell them, “I have seen the Lord!” Then Jesus appeared in the upper room, and when Thomas returned, those disciples said the same thing: “We have seen the Lord!”
Which left him yearning for the same experience, in a way that’s familiar to anyone who has ever lost someone: “I just want to see them one more time.” Of course he did.
But it left him with an even deeper yearning: “I want to see Jesus. I want to see my Lord. I want to know deep down in my bones that death could not destroy the kingdom we were helping to build!”
He wanted to see Jesus, and he got his wish in the most visceral way possible. Right up to putting his hand into the wounds!
We want to see Jesus too, though we don’t get to stick our fingers in his palm. Still, we are not left without hope. For this is the point in the story at which Jesus looks beyond his friends in that upper room, and right at us. And he blesses us. He knows we want to see him, and he promises us that despite our distance in time and space, despite the fact that we aren’t there in the flesh, that he is nonetheless with us just the same. Blessed are you, he says, for you WILL see me. You will see me in all the places that let you believe in the crazy and powerful truth of resurrection. I am there. You will see me, and it will breathe my peace and my Spirit into you. Go forth and take my peace and my forgiveness to the whole world.
May it be so, Amen.