Sermon, 4/27/2025

2 Easter                

Psalm 118:14–29; Acts 5:27–32; Rev. 1:4–8; John 20:19–31

Over 30 years ago, while visiting the Metropolitan Art Museum on NYC’s Upper East Side with my family, we chanced upon a scene being filmed on a street near the Museum.  A section on the east sidewalk of the street had been cordoned off in front of a stately townhouse.  The particular scene captured a young couple, resplendently dressed of course, emerging from a vintage automobile and walking up the steps to the front door of townhouse.  My then very young daughters, like other passersby, were smitten with the excitement of it all, that is until the third take, by which time they had become bored, and so we walked on and then up the steps into the museum. 

It was our celebration of Easter that made me recall that filming session from several decades ago.   Preceding the climactic scene at the vacant tomb,  we, standing on the sideline of history, had watched the excitement of Palm Sunday with its Hosannas to the Son of David, heard the solemnity of the Passion Narrative with its cries of “crucify him,” the Last Words of Jesus “it is finished,” and then shared the indescribable joy of the Resurrection with the stone rolled away—all items and props made for a great film, but have themselves become for us, as in our secular 24-hr news cycle, now old news, yesterday’s news. 

The Day of Resurrection was last week, a full 7 days ago.  The initial excitement and novelty have worn off, receded into the background.  Our liturgical greeting notwithstanding, we no longer greet each other with the phrase “Happy Easter.”  We are off to our next adventure or have returned to business as usual.  We, you and I, walk up our own set of museum steps.

Now decades removed from the filming on East 72^nd St., I recall that there was something else about the filming session that fascinated me.  As noted, people like my family and other curiosity-seekers were directed around the filming to the opposite side of the street.  There were the staged passersby, the “ordinary people” who just happened to be passing by.  These staged passersby had also an important role to play in that session, otherwise the film would be sterile, less real. 

As we sang our beautiful hymns and enjoyed the aroma of Easter lilies, our attention was directed to the stars of the event: Mary Magdelene, Simon Peter, the disciple whom Jesus loved and who had taken in Mary, the mother of Jesus, and of course Jesus himself, addressed as Rabbouni.  However, ordinary folks were also part of Easter.  I would wager that our thoughts did not include the essential supporting cast of characters. actor.  John introduces a secondary plot whose lead is Thomas, one of the original disciples.  Thomas becomes a major person of interest.

Thomas has always been my favorite disciple, even from my teen years, for Thomas allows us to question, to use our natural instincts, but without feeling guilty, without feeling less than by those individuals among us who are so absolutely certain and unwavering in their faith. 

A first lesson to be learned from the experience that John has recorded for us, is that Thomas may have doubted, but there was group participation here.  Thomas is the principal actor in the supporting cast, without whom the film, and in our case, the Resurrection Story, would be dull, flat, and unbelievable.  So, my question today is, what if we were to train our  secondary camera that focused not only on Thomas, but on the crowd as well, on the ordinary people? 

While John’s gospel records that Thomas was alone when he was approached with the news of the resurrection of Jesus—he was wandering down the road—when Jesus actually appears to Thomas, Thomas is anything but alone.  He is with the other disciples.  Rather than having the camera catch that tear of joy which may have rolled down the cheek of Thomas, we see instead the confidence and peace that now mark the faces of all the disciples.

Whatever or whoever caused Thomas to be absent that Easter evening when Jesus appeared to the group, did not matter at all, at least not enough to merit even one line in John’s account.  Apparently neither to Jesus, and nor the other disciples!  If we engage in close textual reading, as I encouraged my students to do, we make a remarkable discovery.  And that discovery is that there is a subplot within the secondary plot of Thomas.  Indeed, we have knowledge of a group of men who argued constantly among themselves, and with Jesus, about where who would sit in the kingdom, about who the greatest of them all was, whose responsibility it was to find money needed to buy food for the 5000 men, not to mention the women and children, about who was going to betray Jesus. In fact, their internal and endless squabble threatened to bring down the mission of Jesus.  Yet, none of the gospels record a crossword being said about Thomas’ absence.  There were no accusations.  They are united, when it is essential that they be united.  The resurrection has caused a change in them.

John has captured in this post-resurrection reunion scene between Jesus and Thomas and the other frightened disciples what the Messiah offered to all prior to the crucifixion. The resurrection gospel is at oneness with the words which Jesus spoke prior to the crucifixion: one of forgiveness, one of inclusivity, one of casting aside individual and group hubris. as the resurrected Christ repeats: “Receive the Holy Spirit.  If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” (Jn 20:22b-23).  And they began with one of their own, Thomas.

We need to ask ourselves, if we, the gathered community of Christ, are as welcoming and as hospitable as the first disciples were to Thomas.  Are we insistent that someone coming through the door have certain credentials?  Are we willing to have in our midst people whose faith is lacking or unformed? 

Such questions get at a real tension not only in the original story, but also in the church as we know it.  A visitor, whom I invited to worship with us on Easter Day, sent me this week an e-message in which she said, “ we had a really nice time, thoroughly enjoyed the service and the sermon, and felt very welcomed.  Some churches claim to welcome “everyone”, but in this case it was clearly meant to mean EVERYone – which was, after all, Christ’s theme.”  That was music to my ears, as so often one of the last places where newcomers feel welcome or forgiven is inside the church, especially when they come with doubt.

If we stop for just one long second to reflect on today’s gospel something else becomes clear.  Today’s gospel is really, then, more about us and our willingness to be hospitable, than it is about Thomas.  The conditions for the declaration of faith that Thomas makes, may have already been set by virtue of the willingness of the disciples to breathe the forgiving love of Jesus.  What a difference we can make, if we but breathe this same forgiveness on each other, even as we go forth into the world around us.  Amen