Sunday, April 19, 2009

sermon excerpts: "When in Doubt"

The events of that first Easter must have been frantic and mindboggling for the disciples. What was anyone supposed to believe? Amid the confusion and chaos, Jesus appears in a locked and sheltered room to the disciples. His words are ones of comfort and care – peace be with you, the Holy Spirit be with you, forgiveness be with you, the implication being to go and share these gifts and new understanding of life and faith. Those gathered receive those words and are amazed. All except for one person, who wasn’t there.

Thomas is another one in the Bible who bears the brunt of a one-sided telling of a story. The poor guy comes back to the room; he had been out so he misses out on the experience of Jesus’ resurrected reappearance. He could only go by what the others told him. We don’t know of the group dynamics of the 12 or what the full extent of Judas’ betrayal did to their sense of trust and safety with each other.

Nevertheless, I’m sure there were practical jokes and laughter at the expense of others, so Thomas might have dismissed this tale as a warped and cruel joke. Somebody’s expressing grief in a peculiar fashion. Thomas’ reaction can be expected and understood.

He wants to see the wounds from the cross, to be sure that it was the same Jesus that was crucified. Which would be rather morbid had not Jesus already done so before. All Thomas wants is to have the same opportunity that the others did, to have the same information to base his decision on. Is that doubt or just wanting to be treated equally?

Any reasonable person would do the same and yet he carries the dubious title of Doubting Thomas for all the millennia that follow. That’s what you get for not being there.

For us today, we may be, for different reasons, wondering: Who is not here, who is missing out? What would it take to convince them of what happened here today? Is it necessary to examine and touch scars and wounds? We know the pain and discomfort of poking at injury, stirring up hornets nests long since discarded …

We are known by our scars. They are what distinguish us, show that we have lived life, that we have been scathed by accident, intention or mishap. We have scars and wounds as individual people, as a community, as a church.

We have been hurt, made vulnerable, but survived. They are part of our story, of who we are. As a United Church of Canada, we show the marks of good intentions with First Nations residential schools and the harm they caused. We were beaten up in 1988 with the provocative stance that sexual orientation has no bearing upon the suitability of a candidate for ministry.

Granted our own pain and experiences do not compare to crucifixion, but our scars and wounds tell the tale of who we are. They speak of our presence at the cross. We are not perfect, we have not escaped through life untouched.

We are damaged people, of that there is no doubt. And still, we are renewed and redeemed. There is the Easter miracle. For all our hurt and injury, pain and suffering, we are not abandoned or all.

Doubts and questions, desire for proof, for more information, to be included in the greater knowledge is the one characteristic that Thomas is mocked for. Lost in this story is the message of Christ: peace be with you. The Spirit is with you. Forgiveness is with you – do with it what you will. Thomas does not doubt this. Neither can we.