What a Difference!

4-8-18 (Easter 2B)

Acts 4:32-35; John 20:19-31

What a Difference!

This Sunday, we enter into a seven week stretch that takes us from Easter to Pentecost - much like the weeks immediately after Christmas, we don’t often think about Easter being a season in the church: the marshmallow Peeps, Jelly Beans, and chocolate bunnies get marked down to 50% off, we get to start having whatever we gave up for Lent again, and time marches on.

But there’s something truly interesting about this whole Easter season that really captivates my thoughts this time around as I look ahead at the lectionary readings between now and Pentecost - we get this really short span here where the readings move us into the book of Acts instead of choosing readings from the Old Testament.  And so we get this mixture of Gospel readings, both post- and pre-resurrection, paired with highlights of the apostles’ ministries in the earliest days of the church.  Today, in particular, we get this very odd juxtaposition of different circumstances - on the Gospel side of the text, you’ve got the remaining disciples all huddled in the upper room, fearing for their lives on the day of Resurrection, while in Acts you have this presentation of an idyllic church community that provides and cares for one another in all things and shares all things in common.  I have to admit… my first reaction on reading these texts was to wonder what on earth I was going to do with the two in tandem with each other.  They don’t immediately click with one another, and when the lectionary chooses this Thomas text every year for the second Sunday of Easter, you realize that it’s easy for a text to become stale after several years of preaching it.

But then I started to look at the John text again… and as I wrestled with the text, wondering what new insights I could possibly find in it, I made a profound realization: this description that we have of the early church in Acts wouldn’t even have been possible were it not for the encounters with the risen Christ that Thomas and the other apostles had on that day of resurrection - witnessing the resurrected Lord was so profound that it was transformative for the disciples.  It took a group of fearful, trembling disciples huddled behind closed and locked doors and turned them into champions for the Gospel, witnesses who boldly went out into their world and proclaimed the news that “He is Risen!” with almost reckless abandon as they worshipped in the temple and shared in their lives together.

It truly is amazing to see what a difference these encounters make as we read through the closing sections of the Gospels and move into Luke’s account of the earliest actions of the Christ-movement we have come to know as the Church.  We left the disciples on Easter Sunday in a place of limbo - Peter and John, “the disciple that Jesus loved,” saw the empty tomb and the grave-wrappings laid in the tomb, but left unsure of what to make of it all.  The Gospel account says that John “saw and believed,” but the two disciples nevertheless return to their homes bewildered because they still do not understand the meaning of what they’ve seen, that Jesus has risen from the dead.  Mary stays on to weep at Jesus’ grave, still thinking that Jesus’ body has been moved somewhere, stolen away in the night… but when she sees Jesus and finally recognizes him for who he is, she cries out with joy and runs immediately back to the other disciples to pass on the good news that Jesus himself gave to her - she bursts through the door and shouts “I have seen the Lord!” before telling the disciples all the things that had just happened to her after Peter and John walked away.

Were the disciples still bewildered after this?  Did they not believe the words that Mary said?  Or is there something else at work here in these texts that speaks to our very natures, something that is much more basic and understandable once we see it out in the open for what it is?  It’s a huge leap for each of the disciples to make - and they’ve been completely overloaded in the last several days, as it is.  They’re still processing all of the events that have already happened: the strange Passover meal that they shared with Jesus as he tells them that the bread and the wine are his body and blood; the sudden upending of their world as the Pharisees and the Roman soldiers sweep in with Judas as he betrayed their master and handed him over to be arrested; the mockery of a trial that Jesus faced and his own refusal to answer or truly defend himself; Peter’s own denial of Christ; and then the utter horror of his public trial before Pilate, the parade to the cross, and then the crucifixion itself… even without the possible threat of arrest and execution for being followers of Christ, themselves, it’s no wonder that the disciples were huddled and hiding in the shadows.  Any one of us would be seeking professional therapy by this point if we had had to endure the same things.  And if someone came in telling us that the very man we’d just seen brutally killed only three days ago was not actually dead, but was alive?  I don’t even know how I’d react.

The truth of the matter is that it was the kind of thing that, if we were trying to tell it to our own friends, we’d find ourselves saying “I guess you really had to be there, huh?”  That’s what I think was going on for the disciples throughout that Easter day.  It wasn’t that they didn’t believe, necessarily, or even that they didn’t understand - although we know they didn’t fully understand what was going on until Jesus opened the scriptures to them once and for all.  It was the fact that the very reality of the resurrection was so difficult, so hard to grasp, that they couldn’t even begin to process it until they were fully faced with it.  It was only when Jesus was standing right in front of them, face to face, telling them “I am here.  Come, see the wounds on my hands, touch me and see that I am real,” that the resurrection really hit home - and in the process, that encounter with the risen Lord is transformative.

It’s not that Thomas doubted that the disciples had seen Jesus resurrected - though one could easily see why, since the disciples are still in their locked room a week later - it’s not even necessarily that he doubted the resurrection itself.  But Thomas did need the same thing that every other disciple before him had already been given - the firsthand experience of seeing the resurrected Christ for himself; even the opportunity to see and feel the wounds of the Messiah.  And it was a need that was fulfilled in God’s own faithfulness.  Thomas sees Jesus and the transformation happens before our very eyes - from being the “doubting Thomas” that we’ve come to know him as, Thomas becomes the first in the Gospels to proclaim Jesus as more than just teacher, more than Lord, more than Messiah even:  Thomas says to Jesus, “My Lord and My God.”

That proclamation - “My Lord and My God” - seems to be the true beginning of the church in John’s gospel.  Jesus has given the disciples the Holy Spirit.  He has given them authority to continue his mission on the earth and he has commissioned them to a ministry of forgiveness, compassion, and love.  And what a difference that makes! Out of the transforming power of His Spirit, out of the powerful encounter with the risen God, the first elders of the church are empowered to go out and live a life that demonstrates that power.  They go out and set about to live in a community that is truly one - “one heart and soul” - a community that shares its possessions, that ensured that no one among them was in need of anything, that sold all their property and gave the proceeds to the disciples, in order that the funds might be distributed equally… 

It’s hard to imagine a community like that today.  It’s hard to imagine a community so transformed by the power of Christ at work in its midst that no one is in need, that no one feels a need for property of their own.  In fact, we might even be tempted to echo Thomas’ own words: “Until I see it myself, I won’t - I can’t believe that it’s possible.”  And perhaps we’re right to doubt - we know from history that this community of the church didn’t last.  The church was scattered and oppressed, driven into hiding by persecution.  And when the Church was finally accepted, that power went to its head and the community of the first apostles was lost to the temptation of riches and power.

But still… like the resurrection itself… we have faith because we know it happened.  And we know that it can and will happen again for us.  We may not be able to put our hands in his side, but each of us is nevertheless encountered with the risen Christ, the power and the promise of that resurrection made real to us through the witness of the Scriptures.  We’re encountered by the power of God at work in the transformation of people’s very lives - the power of Christ at work freeing people from addiction, from slavery, from the tortures of abuse and oppression.  And it is that same grace at work that gives us the hope, even the certainty, that one day, our community of faith - the body of Christ - is not only possible, but that through that same grace of Christ, it will happen again.  And so we strive to work toward that Kingdom community every day, in prayer, in mission, and in worship, so that even as we pray “Thy Kingdom Come,” we know that it is not just a prayer, but an eager expectation of a glorious future.  In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.