2 Easter

April 19, 2020

John 20.19-31

+ I saw a cartoon on Facebook yesterday that I just loved.

In it, it shows the 11 apostles (sans Judas) joining in on a Zoom meeting.

In the corner, there is a blank square for Jesus.

From the square, Jesus says, “Hey.”

Simon says, “How on earth is he in the meetings?’

And in the far corner is Thomas, who says, “Unless he turns on his camera I will not believe it.”

Well, in that very simply cartoon, we get where we are right now in our current situation perfectly.

Because if the life of Jesus were happening right now, we know that is exactly what it would be like.

But I get cartoon-Thomas’ skepticism.

I would be the same way.

And I would probably feel the same about the Thomas we encounter in today’s Gospel reading.

Thomas, as we just heard,  refused to believe that Jesus was resurrected until he had put his fingers in the wounds of Jesus.

You know what?

I’d be the same way.

Well, maybe I wouldn’t insist on putting my fingers in a wound.

That’s a bit extreme.

But, certainly, if someone I knew and cared for died and suddenly everyone is telling me that person is now actually alive, I would definitely doubt that.

And if I knew that person had died and was now standing in front of me, I would still be skeptical.

Skeptical of my sanity, if nothing else.

Or my eyesight. 

So, for Thomas, it wasn’t enough that Jesus actually appeared to him in the flesh—Jesus, was no ghost after all.

He stood there in the flesh—wounds and all.

Only when Thomas  had placed his finger in the wounds, would he believe.

That’s great for Thomas.

But, the fact is, for the rest of us, we don’t get it so easy.

We will struggle.

We will struggle with things like the Resurrection.

Sure, we understand “resurrections” in our lives.

We’ve all known what it is be reborn, to feel joy after bad things happen.

But to believe in this event in the life of Jesus—this Resurrection.

The Resurrection.

He died, he was buried, and now, all of a sudden, he is alive.

And is still alive. For us. Right now.

It’s hard.

Our rational minds rebel against this.

It’s easy to doubt.

But faith, that’s hard.

It’s not easy to have faith.

I don’t have to tell anyone watching here this morning about faith.

We all know how hard it really is

It takes work and discipline.

More likely than not, we can all think of at least one or two things we’d rather be doing this Sunday morning than tuning into this Mass at this time.

We could be doing so many other things in our quarantine.

We could be sleeping in.

We could have a nice long breakfast with our families.

We could be reading the newspaper.

We could watch TV while lounging on the couch, or we could be sitting at the computer.

But instead, we made the choice to tune in to our Mass and participate virtually.  

We made a choice to “be” here this morning, and worship a God we cannot see, not touch.

We made a choice to come here and celebrate an event that our rational minds tell us could never have happened.

And not just celebrate.

But to stand up and profess belief in it, even if we might struggle with it.

But even if we struggle with it—it’s all right.

It’s all right to struggle and doubt and wrestle with it.

A strong relationship to God takes work—just as any other relationship in our life takes work.

It takes discipline.

It takes concentrated effort.

As I say, over and over again, being a believer in God does not just involve being nice on occasion and smiling.

It means living one’s life fully and completely as a believer.

And being a Christian is even more refined.

As Christians we are committed to follow Jesus—this resurrected Jesus.  

But it’s even more than that.

Throughout the Easter season we are celebrating the Resurrection of Jesus.

 That fact is a difficult ones for us to understand and believe in.

Certainly,  rationally it might be easy to objectify it and say that if it happened, it happened then, to Jesus.

It really has nothing  to do with us.

But if we just live as though the Resurrection didn’t happen only to Jesus but us too-if we believe that God has and will raise us up just as God raised Jesus—then, that covers so much of that doubt.

Sometimes we just have to square our shoulders and move forward as best we can in our faith.

We just need to live into it, fully and completely, and let our doubts take care of themselves.

Certainly we cannot let ourselves wallow in doubt.

If we’re going to wallow in anything, we should wallow in the Resurrection and life and light and God.

The best way to overcome doubt is simply to get up and go out and just strive to be the best Presence of Christ we can be in this world.

Of course, that’s hard to do when we’re in quarantine.

But we can do it in our daily lives, in our presence on social media, in our care for those around us, in our prayers for those around us.

In whatever ways we can, we all should be striving to simply BE a reflection of God’s all-encompassing love and goodness in the world, in whatever ways we can.

The key words here are “love” and “goodness.”

Yes, things like the Resurrection and the Incarnation are hard to wrap our minds around.

They don’t relate well, sometimes, to our day-to-day lives.

But, loving God and loving one another does.

Of course, that isn’t that easy either. 

But when we do this, we are encompassing every possible thing that the Resurrection means in our lives.

When we do that, we are doing what the Resurrection tells us to do.

By doing so, we bring the Easter joy and light to a world that seems ruled right now be fear and financial anxiety and insane people like those protesters who think we should out others in jeopardy simply because they are being inconvenienced by staying, a place wherein callousness and ugliness and utter stupidity seem to reign supreme.

It is difficult to be the conduit of the Light and Presence—the love and goodness—of Christ when others are shouting in hatred and bigotry in the same name of Jesus.

Now, for Thomas, he saw.

He touched.

It was all clear to him.

But we don’t get that chance.

“Blessed are those who believe but don’t see,” Jesus says this morning.

We are those blessed ones.

All of us.

Our belief—our faith—doesn’t have to be perfect.

We will still always doubt.

Will still always question.

And that’s all right.

We are still the ones Jesus is speaking of in this morning’s Gospel.

Blessed are you all.

You believe—or strive to believe—but don’t see.

Seen or unseen, we know God is here. With us. Right now.

Even in the midst of a pandemic

Right here.

Right with us.

One day, we will not be experiencing God through this veil which seems to separate us.

One day that veil will be lifted.

One day, yes, we will really see God.

We will, on some glorious day—in our own Resurrection—run to God and see God face to face.

And in that moment, our faith will then finally be fulfilled.

Doubt will die for good. Then.

Blessed are we who believe but don’t see now.

The Kingdom of Heaven is truly ours.