The Church of St.
Paul and Incarnation, Jersey City NJ
April 19, 2020
Year A: The Second
Sunday of Easter
Acts 2:14a, 22-32
Psalm 16
1 Peter 1:3-9
John 20:19-31
Seeing the Risen Jesus
Alleluia!
Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
On
this Second Sunday of Easter, I usually begin by reminding everybody that it’s
still Easter – it’s still Easter – and it will still be Easter for weeks
– it will still be Easter until we reach the great Feast of Pentecost.
But,
of course, this year is different.
I
don’t know how much last week felt like Easter – I hope it did – and I don’t
know if this time around it’s easier or harder to hold onto the spirit of
Easter.
Well,
whether we feel it or not, it really is still Easter – it’s Easter for us and in today's gospel lesson it’s still Easter – it’s still the first Easter – for the disciples who are in
hiding – they are behind locked doors because, we are told, they are afraid of
the Jews.
Now,
just like on Good Friday, we need to stop right here and remind ourselves that
every disciple in the room behind locked doors that first Easter night was a
Jew, just as Jesus himself lived and died as a faithful Jew.
So,
the disciples are not afraid of “the Jews” – that wouldn’t make any sense – but
they are afraid of the religious authorities, the men who had been threatened
enough by Jesus that they made sure that he was arrested and executed – end of
story, or so they thought.
It
was reasonable for the disciples to be afraid that what had happened to Jesus
was going to happen to them next. But, the truth is the authorities probably
knew – or could have easily discovered – where the disciples were hiding out,
but they didn’t seem to bother with them, probably because they recognized that
it was Jesus who had been the threat, not his ragtag band of followers, most of
whom had bailed at the first sign of trouble.
Anyway,
although it doesn’t really feel like it yet, it’s still Easter for the
disciples behind locked doors, when suddenly the still-wounded but risen Jesus
appears.
In
that moment there must have been a storm of emotions raging around the room:
shock, fear, guilt, joy – so many powerful and conflicting emotions that the
first thing the risen Jesus says to his friends is, “Peace be with you.”
The
wounds convince the disciples that this is in fact Jesus and then, in this
telling, not only is it Easter but it’s also Pentecost!
Jesus
breathes the Holy Spirit on the disciples and sends them out to begin the work
of the church – to share the best news of all time:
Alleluia!
Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Finally,
there was Easter peace and joy for the first disciples – or, most of the
disciples, because we know that at least one of them was absent that first
Easter night: Thomas.
Some
of you have heard me preach on this text often enough to know that I always
wonder why Thomas was missing.
Where
was Thomas?
Why
wasn’t he with the others that first Easter night?
Of
course, there might be some boring explanation for his “social distancing,” something
like he was running an errand, maybe he was sent out to find some food for
everybody, but I’m convinced there was more going on with this apostle who will
forever be associated with doubt.
We
have a hint from elsewhere in the Gospel of John that Thomas was a courageous
man, so I wonder if he was especially ashamed and disgusted by the fact that he
and the others had abandoned Jesus at the first sign of trouble.
Or,
maybe Thomas was bitterly disappointed that Jesus didn’t seem to be who or what
he and the others had come to believe.
After
all, what kind of Messiah dies the shameful death of a criminal, abandoned by
just about everybody, including, it seemed, even God?
Or,
maybe Thomas was just angry – angry at a world where a man who taught nothing
but love, who welcomed everybody, who healed the sick - angry at a world where
a man like that could be disposed of so brutally – and maybe Thomas was even angry
God – a God who would allow so much cruelty and suffering in this broken and blood-soaked
world.
Well,
whatever was going on, Thomas missed out on the joy and peace of the first
Easter.
And,
when the other disciples tell Thomas the most amazing news, “We have seen the
Lord,” he famously doubts them, insisting that he won’t believe unless he can
see and touch the wounds of Jesus.
Fast
forward a week and this time Thomas is with the others when the Risen Jesus
reappears, offering the same message, “Peace be with you.”
Thomas
must have been shocked and more than a little embarrassed when Jesus turns to
him and offers his wounds – look and touch, do not doubt but believe.
No
surprise, whatever doubts Thomas had instantly fall away and he cries out,
saying more than he probably understood: “My Lord and my God!”
Alleluia!
Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Of
course, the takeaway for us is that unlike the first disciples in the
locked room, unlike the Apostle Thomas, we are not able to see or touch Jesus like
they did.
And,
despite our inability to see or touch Jesus, we are still called to believe.
That’s
true enough and certainly challenging enough, but what Christians have also always
understood is that, actually, we are able to see the Risen Jesus all the
time, if only we set aside our fears and doubts, and really look.
I’ve
been reading a new biography of one of my heroes, Dorothy Day, who back in the
1930s co-founded the Catholic Worker movement, which offered – and still offers
– food and hospitality to anyone, no matter how smelly or strung out or difficult
they might be.
One
Easter long ago, Dorothy Day reflected on doubt and how we – right here and now
– can see the Risen Jesus. She wrote:
“How
do we know we believe? How do we know we indeed have faith? Because we have
seen His hands and His feet in the poor around us. He has shown Himself to us
in them. We start by loving them for Him and we soon love them for themselves,
each one a unique person, most special!”
Some
of you know that a few of us who help to lead our community center down at
Triangle Park in the Greenville section of Jersey City have been looking for
ways to reach out to the young men who hang out in and around the park, looking
for ways to introduce ourselves to them, to let them know that the center was
there for them.
Well,
a few weeks before the virus shut down most everything, we had the chance to
experience what Dorothy Day had described. We had worked with some community
leaders to invite these guys – yes, gang members - to the center for some pizza
and conversation.
I
was feeling kind of nervous about the whole thing and I wasn’t sure that any of
them were actually going to show - and I wasn't entirely sure I wanted them to show up, but suddenly the door swung open and about
15 guys came in – some of them so young and still baby-faced and the oldest
maybe in their late 20’s.
We
sat around tables eating pizza and drinking soda and these boys and men were
incredibly open with us about their lives, honest about what they were up to
out on the street, very clear about the challenge they faced of finding a job
that would pay the bills.
They told us about
the life or death dangers of traveling around a city split up by firm and sharp
gang boundaries, lines that are invisible to most of us.
I
have to tell you that night at Triangle Park under harsh florescent lights,
sitting on metal folding chairs at tables covered with plastic plates and pizza
slices, having honest conversation with young men most of the world dismisses
as not worth the trouble, I could see and feel the presence of the Risen Jesus
at least as much as I can when we gather here in this beautiful place at our
magnificent altar.
Finally,
much of the time these days it feels a lot like the start of the first Easter
night – we’re behind locked doors, full of fear and doubt.
And
yet, even in this time of pandemic we are still able to see the Risen Jesus.
I think of all the doctors and nurses and
other medical workers who are risking their lives for others, using all of
their incredible skill and ingenuity, and also offering comfort to people when
the end approaches, holding their hands through protective gloves, giving the
last gift they can give, the gift of just being there, sharing peace, even in
the ICU.
I
think of so many of you who have been reaching out to those who you know are on
their own and particularly vulnerable, offering to pick up groceries and make
“contact-less” deliveries, calling into our “Church By Phone” services to pray,
yes, but also to comfort each other just by saying a few words, just by being
happy to hear a familiar or even unfamiliar name, just by saying hi.
And,
I think of what’s happening right now.
Sue
and I can’t see you but we can feel your presence and your prayers. And, after
the service is over we’ll scroll through all of your comments, “Amen,” “And,
also with you,” and of course, “Alleluia!”
On
that first Easter night, the frightened and doubting disciples were able to see
the Risen Jesus – and even if we’re a little late to the party like our
brother Thomas, the truth is we are able to see the Risen Jesus all the time,
if only we set aside our fears and doubts and really look.
Alleluia!
Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Amen.
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