Sermon preached at St. Alban's, Spirit Lake, on March 30, 2008
(Second Sunday of Easter, Year A, BCP Lectionary)
by the Rev. Carl D. Mann

Texts:   Acts 2:14a,22-32
Psalm 111 or 118:19-24
1 Peter 1:3-9
John 20:19-31

You know, I’m not sure what to believe any more. Just a few weeks ago we were down by the Jordan River, where Jesus was first baptized, and a messenger came from Martha and Mary telling us that Lazarus was real sick and we had to hurry back to Bethany.

Back to Bethany! No way! We had just come from that neck of the woods with barely the hair on our heads because Jesus really torqued off the Pharisees when he healed that blind guy on the Sabbath. I saw it with my own eyes. Some of them were picking up stones and others were going for the temple police to have us arrested. Either way it would have been a rough go for us. But even with all that hostility, Jesus just calmly walked out of town like he was in total control with us in his wake.

So anyway, Jesus told the messenger not to worry, that Lazarus wasn’t going to die but he was going to glorify God or something like that. Well that suited me just fine. We were staying put and out of danger. Or so I thought! Two days later, Jesus said, ‘Let’s go back to Judea. Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep and I need to go and wake him up.’

Well, the rest of us started talking amongst ourselves thinking this was nuts. Going back to Judea wasn’t good for our long-term health. And what’s the big deal? First he’s sick; now he’s sleeping. Can’t somebody else wake him up? I know Martha’s always busy but can’t Mary get him out of bed?

And then Jesus drops the bomb on us! Lazarus is dead! Not two days ago he told the messenger that he wasn’t going to die and now he’s dead! I think that’s when my head started spinning. So which is it; sickness, sleepiness or death?

Well everybody’s abuzz, and Jesus just gets up and starts back, so I finally said, ‘Come on fellas; let’s go! We might as well die with him!’ Little did I know what I was saying. Even now, I’m not sure if I meant Lazarus or Jesus.

So we arrive late the next day, finding professional mourners wailing away, and several of the Pharisees from Jerusalem supposedly offering their condolences. Both of the girls individually come out from the house to receive us, bemoaning the fact that if only Jesus had come sooner, Lazarus wouldn’t have died. But Jesus said that Lazarus would rise again. And Martha said, ‘Of course he will in the resurrection on the last day.” And Jesus followed with a most curious statement. He said, ‘I am the resurrection and life; he who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die.’ Again with the contradictory speech! Is he alive or dead? He’s got to be dead. It’s been four days already. But Jesus orders the stone to be removed from the tomb, and with tears in his eyes, he shouts…no he commands Lazarus to come forth.

And lo and behold, Lazarus, all wrapped in his burial clothes, comes shuffling to the door of the tomb like this was an everyday thing! Everybody’s eyes were on Lazarus except mine. I was keeping my eye on the Pharisees who didn’t look all that happy considering they had just witnessed the most incredible event of their lives.

So anyway, fast forward a week. Lazarus is alive again; we enter Jerusalem like Jesus is some sort of king; he then enters the temple and nearly starts a riot by turning over tables and chasing the money changers and animal sellers out of the Court of the Gentiles; and then we all gather in a nondescript room on the night before the Passover.

All is well except Jesus is speaking in a way that sounds like he’s reading his last will and testament. Finally he says he’s going to be leaving us soon and will come back for us when the time is right but not to worry because we know the way he’s going. And I say, ‘Master, we don’t know where you’re going. How can we know the way?’ And Jesus says, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, except by me.’ And then Philip says, ‘Then show us the Father, and we’ll be satisfied.’ And then Jesus says, ‘If you have seen me then you’ve seen the Father. Believe this: I am in the Father and the Father is in me.’ Again with the doublespeak. What’s a poor guy to believe?

Well you know the rest. Later that night Jesus is arrested and taken away. We all run like scared rabbits. The next day the Roman soldiers beat the stuffing out of Jesus and then crucify him. He’s quickly put in a tomb nearby because the Sabbath is approaching, and all the disciples are holed up in the same room waiting for the soldiers to come and get them. Except for me. I’ve been wandering around on my own trying to make sense of it all. Life, death, sleep, resurrection, the way, the truth; what is the truth?

And then on the first day of the week, Mary comes to the room and tells Peter and the others that Jesus is no longer in the tomb but alive! She’s seen him! And later that evening, Jesus appeared to everybody in the room, and showed them his hands and side! And all week long they keep telling me he’s alive, and I just can’t wrap my brain around something so fantastic! It’s not that I don’t believe them. It’s clear that they saw him! But I want to see him, too! I want to see his hands and his feet, and I told them that! You see, I do believe in Jesus! I really do. I’ve seen too many amazing things not to believe. Why wasn’t I there to see him? Did I really want to be alone or was I just afraid to be with the others in case they were arrested? The few times we were together, we argued about it, and I felt like I was tearing up the fellowship. Why doesn’t he come see me? I want the opportunity to see him because to see him is to see God; I understand that now. He is my Lord and my God! All I want is to see him one last time to tell him that I believe.

Thomas is no different that most of us. It’s not that he doesn’t believe. He just wants to know the how and the why. He’s observant; he’s a thinker. He’s a practical, realistic kind of guy, trying to engage a divine mystery with a human brain. But divine principles are beyond human comprehension except through faith. For him, seeing is the only way to verify the truth that he already knows in his heart. For us, we can’t physically see so occasionally we question. And there’s nothing wrong with a questioning faith because it is grounded in faith.

The entire Gospel of John conveys Jesus, the Word of God, as the revelation of God, the Savior for those who believe in him, and as Judge to those who are blind to that revelation. Our salvation is determined by the way we respond to the Word; not by what we may or may not see. Salvation comes through our ears more than through our eyes. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe. Gloria Patri