SERMON FOR THE SECOND SUNDAY OF EASTER, APRIL 11, 2021          TEXT: JOHN 20:19-31

          A favorite preacher of mine describes Jesus’ resurrection appearances as “recognition narratives.” All the Gospel accounts present stories of initial confusion and disbelief on the part of Jesus’ followers. Matthew tells us that the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. And “when they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted” (28:16-17). Mark writes, “So [the women] went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid” (16:8). According to Luke, the women returned from the empty tomb and told the disciples of the announcement from the heavenly messengers, “He is not here, but has risen.”    “But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them” (24:5, 11). Even after hearing the experience of two of their company on the road to Emmaus, when the risen Lord made himself known to them in the breaking of the bread, the disciples remained uncertain. “While they were talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, ‘Peace be with you.’ They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost” (24:36-37).

          The Gospel of John also tells of bewilderment and resistance among the ones Jesus leaves behind. Mary Magdalene goes to the tomb early on the first day of the week while it is still dark. She finds the stone removed from the entrance and Jesus’ body gone. She runs back to Peter and the others and tells them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him” (20:2). Then Mary returns to the tomb, and this time when she looks inside, she sees two angels sitting where the body had been. When they ask her why she is weeping, she repeats her lament, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him” (John 20:13).

          Mary Magdalene turns to find Jesus himself standing there, but at first she does not recognize him. She mistakes him for the gardener. Jesus had told his disciples, the shepherd “calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice . . . . I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me” (10:3-4, 14). Jesus speaks: “Mary!” And she responds “Rabbouni!” (Teacher). It is an exclamation rather than a question. Not “Is that you?” but    “It is you!” She is convinced that her Lord is alive, not by seeing his body, but by hearing his word, his calling her by name.

          The Gospel of John offers another such recognition narrative, that of Thomas the Twin. Thomas has appeared earlier in John’s account. When Jesus announces his intention to return to Judea upon the death of Lazarus, the disciples try to dissuade him, knowing the trip would put him at risk. Still their teacher is insistent, and Thomas exhorts the others to stay with Jesus, despite the uncertainty and danger. “Let us also go, that we may die with him,” he says (11:16).

            Then in the last night of Jesus’ life Thomas speaks again. Jesus offers his disciples reassurance: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.” Thomas said to him, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life” (14:1-6).

              After Jesus’s death we encounter Thomas for the third time.    Once again he is perplexed, and his words are challenging. He was not present when Jesus first appeared to the disciples. Thomas has not seen the Lord’s scarred hands as did the others; he has not heard his word of blessing, “Peace be with you,” or shared in the gift of the Holy Spirit that Jesus breathed into them. John tells us that after her experience in the garden, Mary told the disciples, “I have seen the Lord” and delivered the Lord’s message to them, just as he commanded her to do. Yet Jesus found them later that day hiding behind locked doors in fear of those who had conspired to kill him. Evidently they had not received Mary’s testimony with confidence and joy. Her report was not enough; they needed to encounter Jesus for themselves. Thomas is no different.

          He asks no more than the Lord has already offered the other disciples. Now Jesus comes to him also and speaks to him directly, “Do not doubt but believe.” In John’s Gospel believing is not a matter of getting your doctrine straight or sustaining unwavering conviction. Jesus urges his disciples to “abide in me as I abide in you” (John 15:4). Believing is being in relationship with the Lord and holding on in the midst of uncertainty. Its opposite is not doubt; it is despair.

        Thomas is forthright; he is both confused and committed. He couldn’t chart the way or foresee the ending while Jesus was alive. Yet Thomas continued to follow him. The ending proves to be cruel, the disappointment bitter: Jesus is crucified. And still Thomas abides. In the midst of things he cannot understand, he cries out for a sign, the assurance that Jesus is abiding too. And he hears a word with his name on it. Thomas goes well beyond the others’ exultant “I have seen the Lord” to confess not what his eyes see but what his heart realizes, “My Lord and my God!” By the end of the story he is clearly believing Thomas.

          Why, then, does the church continue to identify him as doubting Thomas? Why the implication that there is something wrong in his struggle with uncertainty and his longing for assurance? It lies, I think, in Jesus’ response that is often read as a reprimand: “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” The Lutheran scholar David Lose writes: ““For most of my life I have assumed that Jesus was rebuking Thomas. Which, quite frankly, always struck me as a little harsh, since Thomas only asked for what everyone else had received. A few years ago, however, it occurred to me that this might be another one of those doors, a place where the story opens up and invites us to realize that we are already standing smack in the middle of the story. I mean, think about it: who are those who have believed without seeing Jesus? Well, likely some were the members of John’s community for whom he wrote. But guess what – we’re included in that group, too. We, also, have believed and struggle to continue believing without ever seeing with our eyes or touching with our hands. And so now I think it’s not so much that Jesus is rebuking Thomas as he is blessing us.” Mary Magdalene and Thomas did indeed get to see the risen Lord, but it was what they heard that opened their eyes, his word of assurance to them, just like the word of blessing Jesus speaks to you today. Amen.