Dr. Mitchell is CEO Anglican Overseas Aid – see https://anglicanoverseasaid.org.au/
A sermon based on John 20:19-31
“A church built on fear and doubt”
[May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable to you O Lord and Redeemer]
This is a marvelous, encouraging story about the birth of the Christian church. A great paradox of Christian life is that when we are at our weakest, we find strength in the presence of the Risen Christ. The gospel reading today speaks to us about this in words, but also in powerful images. It is precisely at our weakest moments that Christ is found among us speaking his words of peace, love, and reassurance. I think this is an especially appropriate reading for churches going through a time of change, or apprehension about the future.
Now the background to this reading is that Jesus had been crucified in recent days. The great experiment, of which all the disciples had all been a part, had seemingly failed. The One they had been following for the last few years had died a humiliating death. The Jewish authorities were becoming more aggressive. And all of the disciples had betrayed or abandoned Jesus, some in spectacular style.
So we have a complex mix of emotions at work in this very shaken group. What had the last few years been about? What would they do now? Would they become victims too like Jesus? We’re told they were gathered together with the door bolted “out of fear of the Jews”. And now there were strange reports circulating around about Jesus’ supposed resurrection; the very same Jesus whom they had each abandoned.
And so against this background we come to today’s reading which progresses in 3 stages. It moves from the disciples, to the disciples plus Thomas, and then to all Christians down the ages (including us!)
In stage 1, Jesus comes to his disciples and through a series of actions and words and lays the foundation for the Christian church. Despite the locked door, Jesus miraculously appears and stands with them, right in the midst of them, in their fear and confusion, betrayal and uncertainty. Jesus comes in solidarity with his struggling followers. And he says to them: ‘Peace’.
Then he shows them his hands and his side, wounds from the Cross, and he says to them a second time: “Peace be with you.” Another powerful action, but the same word. The link between the wounds of Christ and the pronouncement of ‘Peace’ for us is especially poignant. My wounds are your peace; my suffering is your wholeness; my agony, your reassurance; my abandonment, your community; my death, your life.
Then some more words. ‘Just as the Father has sent me, so I send you.’ These are words by which the disciples are being commissioned. Let’s not miss the depth of the challenge. “Just as” is more than about sequence. It’s not simply: The Father sent me, so I’m sending you. That diminishes the meaning. “Just as” has a deeper significance. I’m sending you in the same way that I was sent. I’m sending you out along a path of risky obedience (just like I was), which may involve both suffering and joy. The hands and the side begin to take on a more personal dimension – about costly service and yet ultimate hope.
And then a further action and word. He breathes on them and says: “Receive the Holy Spirit.” This is the other Pentecost story in the Bible. Jesus’ breathes life into them. His resurrection life, his energy, is distributed to his followers. It’s a kind of bridge passing between them and among them. And this is a very clear piece of symbolism. It was God who breathed life into Adam, the first human. Jesus is breathing life into the disciples who are being recreated through God’s Spirit, the Spirit of resurrection power. And this is also a spirit which unifies. It is something shared between them. Jesus may not always be standing in the midst of them, in a physical sense, but the gift of his Spirit remains for those who follow him.
Jesus then says, somewhat cryptically: “If you forgive anyone their sins, they’re forgiven. But if you retain them, they’re retained.” What’s this all about? I believe these are words intended to shape the character of the church as a community of welcome and hope. We must be a community of forgiveness because the hands and side of Jesus show that we have been forgiven. We must be a community of forgiveness because we have received the Holy Spirit which unites us with Jesus and with each other. We must be a community of forgiveness because we are sent in the same way as Jesus, and His journey was about achieving reconciliation for the whole world. There’s no choice, really. It is not that the followers of Jesus are given some terrible power to hold the sins of others over their heads. That’s how this verse was interpreted in medieval times. I think the words about sins being retained are best understood as a warning to us, as bearers of Christ’s Spirit, that we must forgive, rather than being any kind of threat to others.
In stage 2, the scene basically replays itself, one week later, this time with Thomas present.
Now Thomas has a great deal of trouble getting his head around the concept of a resurrected Jesus. Thomas declares, boldly: ‘I refuse to believe, unless I see the evidence firsthand.’ Because of this Thomas has got a bad press over the years. He has gone down in history, and entered our language, pejoratively, as “doubting Thomas”. He’s called the twin; which according to some means he’s double minded. Now what are we meant to make of this?
Is Thomas someone to be criticized? Or is he someone to be praised? The other disciples had the benefit of a miraculous, unscheduled appearance by Jesus. Thomas wasn’t there to see it. He is skeptical, and demands proof. Is demanding proof an act of loyalty to Jesus, or an act of faithlessness or stubborn denial? Personally, I think Thomas is acting out of loyalty. He wants to know that this really is Jesus. He wants to authenticate the identity of Jesus, and he does this out of love and friendship and true loyalty. None of us should give away our hearts too lightly or quickly. But once Thomas is satisfied, he commits himself unreservedly. “My Lord and my God!”
Thomas’ makes a link others had not. ‘My God’ he declares. The Jews were taught to worship God and him alone. The significance of Thomas’ declaration cannot be understated.
Thomas sees Jesus as God. And this is the final element in the birth of the Christian church. In today’s reading the elements are all there for the first time. We’ve got the resurrected Jesus, the giving of the Holy Spirit, the commissioning of his followers, and an agenda of forgiveness. But one thing more is needed. There must be recognition of Jesus as God. And Thomas provides this. In doing so, the Christian church can come into being. We believe Jesus is God. The Christian church joins with Thomas in declaring Jesus as Lord and God. Today’s reading speaks to the followers of Jesus – as the New Israel. We, the followers of Jesus, recognize him as God, and we serve him as God. We bring light and hope and a better way to this world, as Israel was meant to do.
We are left wondering, perhaps, whether Thomas’ doubt is a bad thing? Some see doubt as the opposite of faith. Doubt equals unbelief, it is said, is therefore it is be dispelled quickly and firmly. Jesus ticks Thomas off, and calls on him to believe. But this is only after he has been shown the evidence and brought to a point of decision. Doubt, it seems to me, remains the necessary precursor to faith. There is no honour in believing blindly, or stupidly, or uncritically. There is no honour in believing carelessly in false hopes or imposters. Doubt is about probing and testing, coming to terms with a living God, struggling in integrity. Sure, we do come to points of decision, but doubt is what precedes them.
We’re indebted to Thomas. His struggle has made our struggle easier. As we enter the last stage of the story, Jesus says: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe”. There is a reaching out from the pages of John’s gospel to the church community down the ages. We do not have the benefit of physically seeing the risen Christ, and yet we are assured we can know him. We worship a resurrected Christ, and his spirit is with us still.
The disciples had a miracle, and words of peace. Thomas had a skeptical mind and a firsthand encounter. What about us? None of us can avoid the hard work involved in personal faith. We can set conditions on God, but in the end God is God and He may call our bluff, or refuse to play by our rules. Nor can we live a faith vicariously through others. We each need to own our faith. Like Thomas we must bring our own doubts and fears to the Risen Lord.
So how does Thomas help us? Thomas shows us that doubt can be about respect for truth, and that it a good thing. He demonstrates that out of the deepest doubt can emerge the clearest vision: “My Lord and my God.” And for the skeptics among us, Thomas is both our friend and a filter of truth.
In closing, I want to share that while faith is a gift, and a personal challenge that we can’t avoid, we can also make things easier for each other. We can give permission to doubt, knowing that doubt is often the precursor to deeper faith. But when we are able, we should live fully and confidently in the hope and power of the resurrected Christ. By this we proclaim Jesus as Lord and God.
In the end, it is our unconditional love which shows that His wounds have been made real for us. And again, it is our unconditional love which shows that we have had a real encounter with the living Christ.
Today I pray with the community here that both our words and our actions would proclaim the Risen Jesus – as our Lord and our God. A little later we will partake of Holy Communion and amaze ourselves that while it is 2000 years later in another part of the world, we can celebrate that Jesus is with us in our spirit. He will come amongst us again, in the midst of our own fears and uncertainties, as only a resurrected Lord can.
Now one of the lasting impressions of this passage is that as Christians we are bound in the service of Christ. We serve others just as he served us. I wanted to share something today about my work at Anglican Overseas Aid. I’m the CEO at AOA and Ray is on our board.
I won’t go on for too long, but I wanted to say something about the biggest and most protracted humanitarian crisis in human history: Syria.
This is a bigger scale than the tsunami in Indonesia, a now a bigger scale than post-war migration after WW2.
6 million people are displaced within the Syria, another 5 million are living in refugee camps in neighbouring countries. Another 3 million are living in hard-to-reach and besieged locations. There are millions requiring urgent humanitarian assistance. We’ve all seen the massive flow of human misery into Europe and elsewhere.
And the civil conflict continues on. We become fatigued by it, inured to it. But the reality is women and children continue to suffer.
AOA is a little organisation and we were feeling daunted by this crisis. We decided, tactically, right for the start, to choose a particular focus in responding. We have decided to work with internally displaced persons within Syria, and we are doing that through the social services arm of the Syrian Orthodox Church.
I have printed off some information about the appeal we’re running, which I’ll have available for anyone who is interested.
It is a very practical appeal when you drill down into what we are providing: emergency food and water; hygiene kits; disease prevention; water filters; bedding; and education support for children disrupted through the conflict.
To bring it back to the gospel reading today, our call as disciples, united through the Spirit into the body of Christ, is to serve others, sacrificially and compassionately, just as Christ has served us. That’s the challenge before us.
Thanks for the opportunity to be here today.
Rev’d Bob Mitchell