I Can't Help Thinking...

I didn't preach last weekend, which is sort of unusual for me.  I have come to identify the 2nd Sunday of Easter as "Associate Pastor Sunday", and Thomas and his story have gotten really really familiar to me.  I have defended Thomas from allegations of doubting, and pointed out that if all of the other disciples got to see and touch Jesus for themselves, why should it be a big deal for Thomas to get to see and touch Jesus too?  I have pointed out that Thomas was not with the other disciples on Easter Evening 1, but that he had returned to them on Easter 2.  I have noticed how the disciples cowered in that locked room, and how ultimately, those locked doors could not keep Jesus out.

I didn't preach last weekend, but I was listening, and I was studying anyway.  I got together with my Bag Lunch Bible study to read and reflect on this gospel reading.  As we were reading, I heard Thomas' voice, saying, "I will not believe.  Unless I see his hands, unless I can see those marks, unless I can touch them, I will not believe."

And I thought I could hear the whole world in Thomas' words.

There is a lot more skepticism in the world than there used to be.  There are more doubters than their used to be.  I know a fair amount of young people who say they are agnostics or atheists.  Or they are skeptical of organized religion, if not the existence of God.  Sometimes, it's hard to blame them.  Look around at the world for awhile.  Look around at the church, too.  I know a lot of good people in the church, but I know there has been a lot of hurt too.

So I heard Thomas' words, and I imagined that the world is looking at us, bearers of Jesus' name, carriers of his mission.  I imagined that the world is looking for marks, for some sort of sign.  Not nail-holes, but some signs of love, that we are willing to do something, bear something, suffer something, for the sake of love:  something real, something they can see and touch.

Sunday afternoon I was at a meeting at my church.  It was a rainy afternoon and there were about 130 people in our fellowship hall, from about a dozen different churches.  There could have been more, but people had many other commitments.  Some were actually setting up for homeless families to stay in our church.  But the meeting at my church was unusual for a couple of reasons.   People were telling stories of their lives, hard stories of juggling jobs and trying to make ends meet, stories of foreclosures with no recourse, stories of people living in fear of being deported.  There were representatives of both Latino and Anglo churches in the room, and they were leading together, and we were listening to each other, stories that could transform us, if we let them.

"Unless I see the marks, I will not believe."

Who can blame him?  Who can blame them?

And where are my marks?  That is what I am asking myself, while I am listening to stories, and praying that I will let them transform me.

I Came Home From the Confirmation Retreat to Preach on Thomas

Those two things seem to be related to one another.

Our 9th graders are preparing for their confirmation this weekend.  I was with them last night and this morning as they did some serious work, completing Spiritual Gifts Inventories, reading stories out of the Gospel of Matthew, doing some initial thinking about the Faith Statements they will be writing. 

Our evening devotions last night was called "Stations of the Resurrection."  It's based on a now-out-of-print book for teens with scriptures, prayers and reflections for different of the resurrection stories.  They move around to different stations and read the stories and think about the experiences the apostles had.

Their favorite story?  Thomas.

This morning one of the confirmands was looking for a scripture verse about doubt, or even questions.  She has faith, but she has questions, and she wanted to choose a confirmation verse that told her it was okay to have questions.  I told her questions are definitely ok, even courageous, sometimes.

Later on, we were talking about confirmation day, and the promises they will be making.  I told them that when they were baptized God chose them to be one of God's people, and that they had gifts to share with the church.  I told them that now they had the opportunity to publicly say that they wanted to be part of the people of God, part of God's mission in the world, and that they promise to "live among God's faithful people, to hear God's word, and share the Lord's supper...." (among other things.)

We talked about faith.... and doubt.  How some days when one of us is doubting, another one of us feels strong in faith, and how, when we gather, we help each other to keep going, keep following Jesus, even when we have questions. 

Tomorrow, when I preach, one thing I will say is that we come to church to hear the Word, but I don't think that's all we come to church to do.  I think we also come to church to see Jesus.  We come to church to see Jesus, if not in our own lives, in one another's lives.  We come to church because we want to know, again and again, "is it really true?"  Is forgiveness possible?  Can enemies really be reconciled?  Is Love really stronger than death?

I think that is what our confirmation students want to see, too.  They are looking at church leaders, their parents, the people they see at church, and they are not asking for perfection, but they are looking for Jesus in our lives.  Do we sing like we mean it?  Do we know mercy and do mercy?  Are we honest about our own questions, and our own failures, because we know that there is someone greater than our failures?

Tonight, I imagine those 9th graders sitting around the campfire, eating s'mores and telling stories and seeing each other's faces reflected in the glow.  I imagine that tonight they feel strong and committed to follow Jesus, even though they have questions, and even though they still (after three years) don't have any idea of all the places where Jesus might lead them.

Tonight, I believe that it is still Easter, and that Jesus is alive.  Forgiveness is possible.  Love is stronger than death.

Even if you doubt, join us tomorrow.

Especially if you doubt.