John 20: 19-31
Introduction
Today is still Easter, but the Church has come to refer to it as low Sunday. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand why. This is how our culture works. It is the equivalent of Christmas trees on the curb on December 26th. Easter was last week, which means, now, Easter is over.
But as we have just heard in the Gospel of John, Easter has barely begun—and for Thomas Easter has not even started. For Thomas there has been no resurrection experience. There might be for Thomas an empty tomb. He may have even gone to the tomb and looked in and saw what Peter saw—the linen wrappings rolled up—but it would be safe to say that’s the extent of his Easter experience because he wasn’t with the Disciples on that first Easter evening when Jesus appeared to them post resurrection.
We don’t know where he was, but we know where he wasn’t. And because he wasn’t there he says, “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.” And with that statement—and with what the Church has since interpreted as a rebuke of this statement from Jesus when Thomas finally does see him, Thomas has been labeled a “doubter”. And we all know if you are a doubter when it comes to faith, well, then you really don’t have much faith at all.
But if you ask me… Thomas isn’t the doubter here. Not in Jesus anyway. Yes, he has his doubts—justifiable doubts too—but no, not in Jesus. The doubt in Thomas lies solely and completely with his fellow Disciples. They are the ones Thomas doubts. But why? They’re the ones who saw Jesus. They are the ones who heard Jesus say to them on the first Easter, “Peace be with you” and then had Jesus breathe on them and say to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit…” So why the doubt in Thomas for the Disciples? Again, they are the ones who saw, heard, and received Jesus himself. They are the one’s who are saying to him, “We have seen the Lord.” They are the ones telling him all about this experience with the risen Christ—yet Thomas says, “Unless I see…”
People say, “Poor ole Doubting Thomas.” I say… “Good for Thomas.” He has every reason to doubt his fellow Disciples because after all, they had this encounter with the risen Messiah…but yet where are they? Where are they when they tell him all about their experience? Where do they remain for the next week AFTER having had this “We have seen the Lord” encounter?
They are holed up behind locked doors. So let’s ask ourselves… whose the real “doubters” here?
Move 1
This picture is a Charles Adams cover from a 1981 New Yorker magazine. It shows an affluent New Yorker standing at the door inside his apartment. We are meant to see the door is made of steel, has multiple locks and a security bar. And yet, our eye is then intentionally drawn to see, slid underneath the door, from outside, past all this tight security, a small envelope with a large red heart on it.
This cover piece by Adams was published for Valentine’s Day, but it’s relevant for us today—the second Sunday of Easter—low Sunday as it is—because every year on this Sunday we hear the same Gospel story— John’s telling of Easter day and the first Sunday after Easter day, a story that is supposed to be filled with joyful resurrection celebration, but interrupted and spoiled by this doubter who we are supposed to rebuke. But while Thomas often gets most of the attention, today is really all about the heart of the Gospel, the heart of our faith. It’s about who we are and who God is. It’s about what we do and don’t do.
And it’s about this picture of a tightly locked door, but yet with a note of love slide beneath it—a note of love slipped beyond all the security to a place behind locked doors and locked faith.
Move 2
The Disciples are hiding behind locked doors because they’re afraid. They’re afraid of the religious leaders, afraid of the crowds, and they’re probably afraid of a Messiah, who has come back from the dead, and who just might want to have a word or two with a bunch of cowardly Disciples who quite literally left him hanging.
And the doors of our gentleman friend here are locked for the same fundamental reason—fear. And we can safely assume, the gentleman is afraid for similar reasons—some higher ups, crowds of people, someone he left hanging, someone he might have left for dead—could sooner or later come knocking.
And we can safely assume this about our guy here because his door is a much more stylish door than the one the disciples hid behind. This guy has a rather wonderful door really— the ultimate symbol of success. This is the door you have when you’ve made it; the kind of door you have when you have scrapped and scrapped and clawed your way to the top—to the penthouse of success. It’s solid steel with three locks, plus a chain, plus a reinforced bar— a top-of-the-line security system for those who have something they want to keep safely locked away from anyone and everyone.
What more could anyone want? What better status symbol? Nary a soul could get into where this gentleman is—he’s completely safe. His home is safe. His belongings are safe. His mind and body are safe. His achievements are safe. Nothing can happen to him, nothing can get to him. It just doesn’t get any better than this…or it certainly doesn’t get any worse.
*******
Both the Gospel story and the picture are about people who are behind locked doors—holed up so nothing can get them. But yet despite the tight security, something does still get to them. And because something has they—the disciples and this gentleman— have to decide… What do they do now?
Move 3
The Gospel story of Easter day and Easter night, and this picture of complete security— pretty much tell it like it is. We all know about locked doors, about things that keep us inside and limited, and away from the most there can be. We all have our personal locks. Things like fear and doubt, and anger and resentments. Things like our own personal history, our own wounds, our own self-righteousness and pride, and of course our own sin. We all have what it takes to put ourselves in the picture— this picture and the picture John paints—because in so many ways this is the natural human condition. We’re all like this. Part of what it means to be a human being, to be a person in the world, is to live behind locked doors. Sometimes it’s because that’s what we want. Sometimes it’s in spite of what we want. Sometimes it’s because we desire desperately for our lives to be different.
In all its forms, this is part of what it means to be a person. A fancy term for it is alienation, being separated in fundamental ways from the natural world, from each other, from God, and even from ourselves. And there are all sorts of ways of talking about the reality of alienation. It underlies the entire biblical story—starting with creation, and the fall.
Scripture insists there is something fundamentally incomplete and broke in us; something in need of divine mending. Alienation is an aching for a wholeness that’s always just beyond our reach and never anything we can fix or mend.
Easter of course is about the fact that God comes through the locked doors and offers us God’s self, and God’s peace—giving us love, giving us the possibility of faith and the opportunity for new life. And it’s all a gift. A gift that is quietly, innocuously… slid under and through our locked doors—doors we put in place to keep everything out. And yet… God still gets this gift to us—despite our locked doors and our locked faith. And because God does, we—like the disciples and the gentleman— have to decide… What do we do now?
Conclusion
John’s account of that first Easter and then of Easter a week later isn’t about “doubting Thomas.” John’s account of that first Easter and then of Easter a week later is about the unpersuasive Disciples who are holed up behind locked doors AND behind locked faith even though they have “have seen the Lord!” We have made Thomas the doubter? Are you kidding me?
Thomas often gets most of the attention on this Easter Sunday. But this Easter Sunday, like last East Sunday, is really all about the heart of the Gospel, the heart of our faith. It’s about who we are and who God is. It’s about what we do and what we don’t do. And it’s about this picture of a tightly locked door, but yet with a note of love slide beneath it—a note of love slipped beyond all the security to a place behind locked doors and locked faith.
Today is about realizing the self-imposed alienation we have created and carefully curated with all manners of locks. Today is about the opportunity we have been given. Not just the opportunity for new life. But also the opportunity to decide the kind of Disciples of Christ we are going to be.
Are we one and done Disciples? Are we holed up behind locked doors and locked faith Disciples—even though “We have seen the Lord.” Are we unpersuasive Disciples who can’t even convince one of Jesus’ own followers—who desperately wants to believe the resurrection happened—he is risen, risen indeed? Or are we going to be a different kind of Disciple or Christ?
Today is Easter…again. Tomorrow is Easter again. The day after—Easter again. Everyday God in Christ Jesus is ready to slip under and through locked doors and locked faith a love that cannot be contained, a love that can quite literally change lives and change the world. So we have to ask ourselves, on this Easter Day… and on tomorrow’s Easter Day…and the Easter Day after… what do we do now? Stay holed up behind locked doors and locked faith? Or will we decide we are going to unlock those doors and unlock our faith and throw the doors wide open.
What do we do now? Amen.
Pastoral Prayer, April 16, 2023
God of new life, we gather as people on a journey of faith—as people who believe and as those who have doubts. We do good, and we sin. We are imperfect humans, and yet, still loved by you. How grateful we are that as we traverse this journey of faith, this is your way.
Which is why we know we can, and must, confess at times we are skeptics. At times we doubt because of the evil and struggle we see. Oppression, marginalization, and plain hate still plague our world, and it is hard to see Your love and light. Sometimes, even those who bear Your name do not walk in Your ways.
Like the disciples, we are sometimes afraid, sometimes full of doubt.
Teach us not to hide from our doubt, but to recognize it as a door to deeper faith. After all, the disciples’ fear became a visitation of the risen and triumphant Christ. Thomas’ doubt became a moment of revelation as he saw and touched Jesus, and finally believed.
So make us aware of the people around us who have no faith at all—those who live without hope, without knowledge of your resurrection, without your light in their lives. Then grant us the courage to live as witnesses to your resurrection. Grant us the fortitude to be honest—that a life of faith is hard at times, that it is no guarantee of endless peace, but that it is the way through the trials and tribulations of life to a place of peace, even amongst the struggle.
So come Lord. Come and meet us in our times of doubt, and reveal yourself to us. Then reveal to us how to show others you are among us, blessing us with the opportunity to believe ever more deeply.
We ask that you would listen now to the prayers of our hearts, offered to you in this time of Holy Silence.
All this we pray in the name of our resurrected Lord and Savior, who invites us to believe, Jesus the Christ, who taught us to pray saying, “Our…”