Tuesday, April 14, 2026

Indescribable Joy -- Second Sunday of Easter

John 20:19-31

April 12, 2026

 

            The pope has died. The pope’s death means there must be a conclave to elect a new head of the Roman Catholic Church. Cardinals from every part of the globe are arriving in Rome for this holiest of responsibilities. And one cardinal, Thomas Lawrence, who worked directly for the former pope until his death, is now the Dean of the conclave. This means that he is responsible for overseeing every aspect of the conclave, and it means that he will investigate any questions or suspicions about the specific cardinals who are considered popular candidates for the papacy.

            One of Dean Lawrence’s responsibilities is to preach the homily for the first mass of the gathering. He begins by speaking in formal Latin, reminding the cardinals gathered of their purpose and their call. But then he switches to English and speaks from the heart. And from the heart he speaks of Paul’s call for those who follow Jesus to have unity. He refers to Paul’s letter to the Ephesians and to the diversity of the Ephesian community which was made up of believers both Gentile and Jewish. And then he speaks to that which destroys unity, which directly threatens unity and fellowship and tolerance and respect for others – and that is certainty. Certainty is the enemy of unity. Certainty is the opposite of faith. If there is certainty, then there is no faith and there is no mystery. Dean Lawrence tells his fellow cardinals that our faith is a living thing because it walks side-by-side with doubt. Then he tells them that he prays they will elect a pope who has doubts, who sins and asks for forgiveness and then carries on.

            What I am describing did not occur at the most recent conclave to elect Pope Leo. This is from the movie Conclave, which is one that Brent and I have now watched three times. And I could easily watch it that many more times again. It is fiction, but as I understand it, it gives a good insight into the workings of a real conclave and to the political realities of electing a new pope.

            But what this movie does so beautifully is show that even these most elevated of church leaders are still human beings with flaws and failings and doubts. Doubt is not the enemy of faith. Certainty is.

            And so we come to the one passage, the one story that we read every year on this Sunday after Easter. Regardless of what other gospel we may be focusing on the rest of the church year, on this Sunday we read the story from John’s gospel about Thomas. Thomas, aka Doubting Thomas. Thomas, for some unknown reason, was absent when the risen Jesus first appeared to the other disciples. Our story begins immediately after last week’s Easter story ends. Mary Magdalene meets the risen Jesus outside of the empty tomb, and she runs to tell the disciples that she has seen the Lord!

            But even this gloriously good news does not allay the disciples’ fear of the authorities. So, even though Mary has told them that Jesus is really and truly risen again, resurrected, out of the tomb, out of the grave, they are hiding behind locked doors in fear. Mary may have seen the Lord, but they have not. And they are afraid. Yet through these locked doors comes Jesus. He came and stood among them and declared,

“Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” And then he breathes on them and tells them to receive the Holy Spirit.

            But as I’ve already said, Thomas was not there when this first appearance happened. Perhaps he drew the short straw and had to go out and find food for them, while the others stayed behind. Maybe he had to check on a family member or relay a message, but for whatever reason, Thomas was absent when the others saw Jesus. Thomas was gone when the others saw for themselves that Jesus had risen and could not only appear to them but could even move through doors that were locked and bolted.

            I don’t know if Thomas was disappointed or hurt or even angry when he returned to the others only to find out that Jesus had appeared in their midst and now they too claimed that they had seen the Lord. Maybe he was none of the above, but he was resolved about one thing. He wanted to experience what the others experienced. He wanted to see the risen Jesus for himself.

            “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.”

            As I have said many times in other sermons on this passage, this is where Thomas gets his bad rap. This is where Thomas receives the nickname, Doubting Thomas. But as I’ve also said, was Thomas anymore doubtful than the others? Mary Magdalene told them she had seen the Lord. She rushed with joy to tell them that. But that news did not keep them from hiding behind locked doors out of fear. Her good news did not seem to convince them that anything and everything was changed. When Jesus stood among them, he showed them the marks from the nails. He showed them the fresh wounds from the trauma of the cross. Then they believed. So, how was Thomas any different from the others? He was different in this way only. He stated what he needed for belief. Did he doubt? Yes. But they all did. They all had doubts.

            Thomas got what he asked for. A week later, all the disciples including Thomas, were gathered in the house with doors that were shut tight. Closed doors did not prevent Jesus from appearing to them once again. Just as he had a week before, Jesus appeared and said, “Peace be with you.”

            This time Jesus speaks directly 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.”

            Then Thomas makes a profound confession of faith.

            “My Lord and my God!”

            What Jesus says next has often been interpreted as chastisement, and I grew up with that interpretation.

            “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

            I no longer hear a reprimand in Jesus’ words to Thomas, as though the only way Thomas could believe was to see. What I hear is Jesus making a connection to all those who will come to belief in the days, weeks, months, years, and centuries ahead. I hear a call to Thomas and to the others. They have seen and believed, now they must go out into the world and tell others so that belief will spread. They must share their profound experience of the risen Christ so that others will have hearts and minds open to do the same. They must be the channels for which belief will grow. But Jesus does not reprimand Thomas or the others for doubting. He just tells them to let go of their doubt and let belief take hold.

            Doubt is not the enemy of faith. Certainty is. But for so long I believed that if I was not certain of my faith, if I had doubts, if I had questions, if I was unsure, then my faith was weak. My faith was less than. How many times have I envied the faith of others who seem so sure about everything, who never express doubts or even ask hard questions? Because I was so sure that doubt equaled a lack of faith, I was afraid to express doubt. I was afraid to speak my questions aloud. But here’s the thing, being Easter people, people who believe in the resurrection, people who live into the good news of Easter, does not mean that we don’t have doubts. The world in which we live is one of both great beauty and terrible destruction.

            We proclaim the resurrection but wars still rage. We proclaim the resurrection but innocent people still suffer. We proclaim the resurrection but terrible accidents still happen. We proclaim the resurrection but death is still real. Living is a messy and complicated and wonderful and frightening business, and even though we hear the good news and read the good news and believe the good news, doubt still walks with us. Our faith is a living thing because it walks side by side with doubt. Our faith is a living thing not because we are certain but because with all we believe we still doubt. One commentator I read wrote that our faith is a faith of paradoxes. We die so that we may live. We receive by giving. We lead by serving. And we doubt our way into stronger belief.

            To believe in the resurrection does not make life easier. Belief in the resurrected Christ is not a spiritual magic wand that erases all our doubts and fears. No, our belief in the resurrected Christ is a belief that Jesus comes to us where we are just as he came to the disciples in that locked room. Jesus comes to us and shows us his scars so that we can reveal our own. Jesus shows us his wounds so that we can allow ours to heal. Jesus meets us in our doubts so that we can let our faith live. This living that we do, this believing that we struggle with is messy and complicated, but it is also wonderful. Our doubts, our struggles, our questions, all create a faith that is living, and a living faith is more than just a blessing. A living faith is an indescribable joy. Thanks be to the living God.

            Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia.”

            Amen.

           

No comments:

Post a Comment