April 11, 2021
John 20.19-31
+ If you know me for any
period of time, one of the many weird things you will hear me talk about is my
affection toward atheists.
And I’m not talking about
it in some negative way.
I genuinely like
atheists, and I definitely empathize with those who do not believe.
I do not see that
atheists and Christianity are necessarily diametrically opposed to each other.
And I know that’s an
extremely unpopular opinion from both Christians and atheists.
But I stand firmly on
this topic.
I’ll be honest.
What disturbs me about
atheist theology isn’t its (often rightful) anger toward Christianity and
organized religion, its rebellion, its single-mindedness about how wrong
religion is.
What disturbs me about
atheism is how simple it is—how beautifully uncomplicated it is.
Tomorrow will be the 60th
anniversary of amazing event.
On April 12, 1961, Soviet
Cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin became the first human in space.
Soviet propaganda at the
time proclaimed that the first words from Gagarin from space were, “I see no
God up here.”
There’s even a famous
poster showing Gagarin floating above the spires of the
churches of Russia, and
the words “No God” in Russian as a caption
The fact is, this was
proved to be wrong.
Gagarin never said it.
In fact, there are
stories abounding that Gagarin was actually a secret Orthodox Christians (If
you want to google it, you find yourself going down some interesting rabbit
holes).
But, let’s face it—it’s just
so easy to not see God anywhere.
It’s easy to look up into
the sky and say, I see no God.
It’s easy to believe that
science has the only answers and that everything is provable and rational.
(And just to be clear, I
am fully 100% pro-science, by the way)
I almost—ALMOST—envy
atheists.
And when I hear any of my
many atheist friends state their disbelief in the white-bearded male god who
sits on a throne in heaven, I realize: if that is what they don’t believe in,
then…I guess I’m also an atheist.
In fact, any God that I
can observe by looking at in the sky, or into the cosmos is definitely a God in
which I don’t believe.
I don’t want a God so
easily provable, so easily observed and examined and quantified and…materially
real.
I don’t believe in a God
that is so made in our image.
I don’t believe in a God
that is simply a projection of our own image and self.
Who would want that God?
We might as well go back
and start worshipping the pantheon of pagan gods our ancestors worshipped.
We might as well start
worshipping trees and rocks again.
It’s actually so easy to
say there’s no God.
It is easy to say that we
live in some random existence—without purpose or meaning.
And let me tell you, I
also have major issues with the prevalent form of Christianity we see in this
county and in the world right now.
I think many of here—or who
are watching this morning—feel the same way.
Many of us have been hurt
and abused by the bastardized version of Christianity that is now being promoted
as the ONLY form of Christianity that is “valid.”
Trust me.
I get!
And I guess that’s why
I’m kind of envious of atheists.
That’s why I jokingly
say: “there but for the grace of the God in which they don’t believe go I.”
For us, however, as
Christians, it isn’t as easy.
Being a Christian is
actually quite hard.
I hate to break that news
to you.
Believing is actually
hard.
Yes, we do believe in the
existence of God.
And we believe in a very physical
representation of God in the person of Jesus.
We are now in the season
of Easter—a season in which we celebrate and live into the reality of the
Resurrection of Jesus,
But that event is based
on some incredible evidence.
We are believing what a
group of pre-Enlightenment, Pre-rational, Jewish people from what was
considered at the time to be a backwater country are telling us they saw.
But we believe because we
know, in our hearts, that this is somehow true.
We know these things
really did happen and that because they did, life is different—life is better,
despite everything that happens
We believe these things
in true faith.
We didn’t see Jesus while
he was alive and walking about.
We didn’t see him after
he rose from the tomb.
We don’t get the
opportunities that Thomas had in this morning’s Gospel.
Doubting Thomas, as we’ve
come to know him, refused to believe that Jesus was resurrected until he had
put his fingers in the wounds of Jesus.
It wasn’t enough that
Jesus actually appeared to him in the flesh—how many of us would only jump at
that chance?
For Thomas, Jesus stood
there before him, in the flesh—wounds and all.
And only when he had
placed his finger in the wounds, would he believe.
It’s interesting to see
and it’s interesting to hear this story of Doubting Thomas.
But, the fact is, for the
rest of us, we don’t get it so easy.
Jesus is probably not
going to appear before us—in the flesh.
At least, not on this
side of the Veil—not while we are still alive.
And if he does, you need
to have a little talk with your priest.
We are not going to have
the opportunity to touch the wounds of Jesus, as Thomas did.
Let’s face it, to believe
without seeing, is not easy.
It takes work and
discipline.
A strong relationship
with God—this invisible being we might sense, we might feel emotionally or
spiritually, but we can’t pin-point—takes work—just as any other relationship
in our life takes work.
It takes discipline.
It takes concentrated
effort.
Being a Christian does
not just involve being good and ethical all the time.
Many, many atheists do
that too.
Most atheists I know are
ethical, upright, good people too.
Most atheists I know are
committed the same ideals most of us are committed to here this morning.
And they are sometimes
even better at it all than I am sometimes, I’ll admit
But, being a Christian
doesn’t mean just being ethical and “good.”
(Though we should all
still be ethical and “good”)
Being a Christian means
living one’s faith life fully and completely as a Christian.
It means being a
reflection of God’s love, God’s Presence, God’s joy and goodness in the world.
It means that we might
not touch the wounds of Jesus as Thomas did, but we do touch the wounds of
Jesus when we reach out in love to help those who need our love.
We should be a walking,
talking, living presence of God.
God should be in our very
core, our very marrow.
Even if the God we are
embodying is a mystery of us.
Even if the God we embody
is not seen.
“Blessed are those who believe but don’t
see,”
Jesus says this morning.
We are those blessed ones.
We are the ones Jesus is speaking of in this
morning’s Gospel.
Blessed are you all.
You believe, but don’t see.
We are the ones who, despite
what our rational mind might tell us at times, we still have faith.
We, in the face of doubt
and fear, can still say, with all conviction, “Alleluia!”
“Praise God!”
We can’t objectively make
sense of it.
Sometimes all we can do
is live and experience the joy of this resurrection and somehow, like sunlight
shining in us and sinking deep into us, we simply bask in its glory.
Seen or unseen, we know
God is there.
Yuri Gagarin this morning
knows that to be true.
Our faith is not based on
seeing God here in front of us in the flesh or proving the existence of God, or
finding scientific proof for the Resurrection.
Because we actually have
known God, right here, right now.
God has been embodied in
us.
We know God, and feel
God, and taste God in the bread of the Eucharist.
We know God through
love—love of God and love of one another.
Blessed are we who
believe but don’t see now.
The Kingdom of Heaven is
truly ours.
Alleluia!