The Rev. Kristin Krantz
St. James’, Mt. Airy
April 11, 2021
Acts 4:32-35, Psalm 133, 1 John 1:1-2:2, John 20:19-31
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Some of you may remember that a few years ago I offered an adult formation series I created for parents and grandparents (and really everybody) called The Hard Questions: Parenting with Doubt, Faithfulness, and Wondering.
It grew out one of the recurring conversations I’ve had over the course of my ministry, which goes something like this: “So. My kid asked me about (blank). I had no idea what to say. What would you say? Could you talk with her?”
Now “blank” could be anything – from wondering about death, to questions about communion – from why Grandma has cancer, to what God’s “real” name is.
Kids have a way of distilling the hard questions we all have, and then asking them out loud. And sometimes the questions they ask, well we just don’t know how to answer, because we don’t know the answers ourselves, hence all of the playground and coffee hour conversations I’ve had.
It was with this in mind that the series was part theology 101, and part intro to theological reflection, to help equip folks to answer those hard questions – or at least be more comfortable wondering about them together.
Because questions, doubt, faith, and wondering are as old as time – we see them woven through the scriptures – and they are all found in our Gospel reading today.
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Our story begins on the day of the resurrection – Easter Day. Just prior to today’s reading Mary Magdalene had returned from the empty tomb to proclaim, “I have seen the Lord,” to the other disciples. And yet here we are that same evening with the disciples locked away in the upper room, full of hard questions.
And also, doubt. Doubt in themselves, doubt in the impossibility of the resurrection, doubt about what exactly they were supposed to do next.
And so Jesus did what he had always done best: he met them where they were – literally and figuratively.
Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. The disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.
He came not with recrimination for their doubt, but peace twice over. He understood the hard question of the resurrection, and offered them his wounds as evidence. He knew they were wondering, what next? And so he gave them the gift of the Holy Spirit – breathing on them as God did in the creation, breathing life into Eve and Adam – and made them not only those who follow (disciples), but those who are sent (apostles).
By meeting them at the places of their doubt, Jesus helped his friends begin to grow an Easter faith – one filled with faithfulness and wonder.
Questions, doubt, faithfulness – they are all at their heart centered on relationship and journey. Not on having or knowing the right answer or the truth, but in the living out of our relationship with God and each other.
My theology professor in seminary, Christopher Duraisingh, called this ‘faithing.’ Not faith a noun, something you “have,” but faithing a verb, something you “do.”
I can’t help but wonder if the reason Thomas wasn’t present that first time Jesus visited the upper room is because, out of all of them, he was the boldest and had stepped out even in the midst of confusion and doubt – if he was the one who was out in the world faithing in spite of everything.
What a disappointment it must have been, then, hear from his friends the tale of Jesus’ visit – of his peace, and breathe, and the Spirit, and their sending.
Is it any wonder that Thomas exclaimed that he too must see the mark of the nails in Jesus’ hands and the wound in his side to believe?
Thomas is the foil in this story, not because of his doubt – all the disciples had that – but because he provides the opportunity for Jesus to show up once again to bring his peace to those whom he had sent, but who were still gathered behind locked doors.
We tell this story again every year on the Second Sunday of Easter because we – like Jesus’ first friends – too often hide behind closed doors, wallowing in the uncertainties of life, in our losses and grief, in our questions and doubts.
We forget that by virtue of our baptism we are Easter people, and we too are sent into the world to witness to God’s love.
We would do well to remember that “when nothing is sure, everything is possible.”[1]
This is where wonder really comes into play. Because we can’t see, and touch, and talk, with Jesus. We are those people Jesus had in mind when said when he said, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe” after all.
But we can wonder at these grace-filled stories we have been given – not just seeking definitive answers, but wondering as a way to make meaning between scripture, our lives, our communities, and our God.
This is the work of Easter people. And because it is big work, we set aside 50 days every year to remind ourselves of it and to re-dedicate ourselves to living it.
So I wonder, where are you entering the work this Easter season? What are your hard questions? Will you embrace doubt? Is your faithfulness ready to be put into action – are you ready to go out into the world faithing? Or will you set aside time to wonder and grow closer to God?
My prayer for all of us, today and in the season to come, is that we ask hard questions, use doubt as our starting point, put our faith into action, and wonder about the possibility of it all. Amen.
[1] Quote from author Margaret Drabble.