Holy Humor Sunday
(a.k.a. 2nd Sunday of Easter)
April 28, 2019
John 20:19-31
Two weeks ago, on Palm Passion Sunday, I made up coloring
packets for the children to use in worship, one page to go with each Scripture
reading. After worship that day, my husband said that our son didn’t like it
very much because all the pictures were sad: Jesus on the cross, Judas
betraying Jesus, Peter crying because he denied he knew Jesus. I think the least
sad one is Jesus praying in the garden of Gethsemane. We who live 2,000 years
after the resurrection, who have always
known the end of the story, don’t always quite realize the depths of sadness
and despair and guilt that the disciples felt. They truly thought the story was
over on Good Friday. After having three great years with Jesus, it was time for
life to go on. They didn’t know Sunday
was coming. And then Sunday comes, and the women, who went to the tomb to
prepare Jesus’ body, instead come back with a wild story about no body and
angels saying he’s alive again. Mary Magdalene even says she meets Jesus in the
garden. Peter runs and sees the empty tomb. The disciples know the tomb is
empty, something has happened to the body. They know what Mary and the angels
say, that Jesus is alive. I’m not even going to speculate on what they think or
believe at this point. That the body’s been stolen? That Mary has gone crazy?
That they want to believe Jesus is alive? I would imagine their thoughts are
all over the place. And so later in the day, that same day, they gather together and make sure the doors are
locked. Their emotions have been all over the place, and they’ve been strong emotions, so yes, the doors are
locked. Nothing else can happen to them. Not today. Not this week. Not this
year. They’re done.
Aaand…
Jesus shows up. Behind those locked doors, as they’re trying to make sense of
what’s going on, in comes Jesus. And the disciples are overjoyed. They’ve just
gone from the lowest low to the highest high. A week of strong emotions, roller
coaster emotions, indeed. Now, there are many different Easter greetings. The
most common one we said last Sunday was “Happy Easter!” At other churches you
may hear, “Alleluia! The Lord is risen! He is risen indeed. Alleluia!” Jesus
has a different Easter greeting. He says, “Peace be with you.”[1]
Jesus doesn’t come in and say “Yay!” or “Ta-da!” or “I’m baaaack!” He says,
“Peace be with you.” Jesus doesn’t even begin by rebuking them or criticizing
them for their lack of faith or their fear. He’s done that before, if you
remember, such as when Peter tried to walk on water. “Ye of little faith, why
did you doubt?”[2]
No, Jesus doesn’t criticize them at all over their reactions to what’s
happened. He simply offers them peace.
Now,
“the greeting of peace can sound trite, an echo from the 60’s. However, Jesus’ greeting is no mere Hallmark
sentiment. He has literally been to hell
and back in order to reconcile lost human beings with God. His peace is not peace as the world gives.”[3]
It’s not conditional or superficial or an empty hand gesture. Instead, it is a
peace that “surpasses all understanding,” as we read in Philippians 4:7; it’s a
peace that is the fruit of the Holy Spirit, listed in Galatians 5; it’s a peace
that is connected to justice in Psalm 85. Jesus’ peace is different. And when
you feel that peace in the midst of the storm, when you find that still, small
voice after the whirlwind, you can take a deep breath and exhale, calmer, more
peaceful, knowing God’s got this. There’s those disciples, locked in because
there’s just been too much going on, they can’t handle it, can’t process it.
And Jesus breathes on them. Puts them at peace. Offers them the Holy Spirit.
And reminds them to forgive anyone who has wronged them. It’s a bit calmer now,
isn’t it?
However,
there were only ten disciples hiding in that locked room. Jesus started with
twelve. Judas betrayed him, and then was so overcome by what he did that he
killed himself. And Thomas, for some reason or another, isn’t there, either.
We’re not told why. Maybe he was sick,
maybe he was visiting family, maybe it was taking him longer than usual to care
for his animals. Maybe he misplaced his
iPhone and didn’t get the message that this is where the disciples were
gathering that night. We don’t know why
Thomas wasn’t there, but that’s not what’s important. Instead, we see what happens when everyone’s
not all together, for whatever reason, and what happens is that seeds of doubt
are sown. Thomas wasn’t there, and he feels
left out. He missed a Jesus sighting!
Perhaps the ideal response would have been a sincere, “Oh, that’s so great, I’m
so happy for you! How cool that you got to see the Lord!”
 |
| That's why the Easter bunny made an appearance a week later - to offer eggs to any kids who missed out the previous week. It's never fun being left out, whether you're a kid or an adult. Jesus came back a week later just for Thomas. |
However,
if we’re perfectly honest with ourselves, it would have been really hard for
any of us to respond that way. Instead,
for whatever reason, we missed this great event, we’re jealous that we missed
it, we feel left out, and so it’s human nature to respond with doubt and
disdain, “Unless I see for myself, I won’t believe.” There’s a part of all of
us who identifies with what Missouri Congressman Willard Vandiver said in 1899,
“I come from a state that raises corn and cotton, cockleburs and Democrats, and
frothy eloquence neither convinces nor satisfies me. I'm from Missouri, and you
have got to show me.”[4]
This is the same thing that Thomas says, “Unless I see Jesus for myself,
complete with the marks on his hands and his feet and his side from where they
pierced him, I won’t believe.” Now, Jesus is kind of a nice guy, he has
compassion, and so he makes sure to appear again when all of the disciples are
present and he responds to Thomas’ feelings of jealousy that he missed out by
inviting Thomas to do more than the other disciples did. Jesus invites Thomas to touch him, to put his
hand in the hole in his side. Jesus gently and kindly invites Thomas to stop
doubting, to stop being jealous, to stop feeling left out, and instead, to
believe. Thomas often gets a bad rap,
and the nickname of “Doubting Thomas.” Yet the truth is any of us could be
Thomas. No one likes to be taken in or made fun of. No one likes to be left
out. Of course Thomas has doubts and becomes a classic Missourian, saying, “You
have to show me.” The good news is that doubts do not disqualify us from
discipleship any more than anxiety does. Take a deep breath. It’s okay to have
questions. Actually, it’s good to have questions. You may not get answers, but
a good question can renew you and give you some new life.
You
see, the Gospel of John adds on at this point a nice little closing statement,
even though it’s not actually the end of the Gospel. “Jesus performed many
other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this
book. But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the
Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.” Two of the
things the Gospel of John is known for are all the signs and wonders that Jesus
did and for what Jesus said about himself, those “I am” statements. “I am the
way, the truth, and the life.”[5]
“I am the resurrection and the life.”[6]
“I am the good shepherd.”[7]
John wrote all these things down in order that you may believe, and that by
believing, you may have life. Jesus told Thomas, “Because you have seen me, you
have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
That’s us. We did not live with Jesus in Palestine 2,000 years ago. It means we
were not quite as heartbroken and in the depths of despair as the disciples
were on Good Friday. And yet we believe. Faith is not certainty. If we were
certain, there would be no room for faith.
I
remember a ropes obstacle course I went on with my high school youth group. At
one point in the course, I told God, “Ok, my trust is in you and this little
piece of blue rope.” I really wasn’t sure that little piece of blue rope was
going to get me across. I was sure that there was a high likelihood of me
falling off the course down to the ground. But you know what? I didn’t. There
was another time I fell in youth group. We did that exercise where you close
your eyes and fall backwards, having to trust in your friends to catch you.
Well, I knew they would catch me, and so I just fell, deadweight. Guess what?
They didn’t catch me. Faith and certainty are two different things. Thomas
asked for certainty, and he got it. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet
believe. Blessed are those who have life in his name, because they believe. When
you fall down, you can choose to be embarrassed, maybe even hide it with anger,
maybe even lash out looking for someone to blame. Or you can laugh at yourself.
Let it roll off. Try again. After all, blessed are those who can laugh at
themselves, for they shall never cease to be amused.
[1]
John 20:19
[2]
Matthew 14:31
[3]
Easter 2019 email from the Center for Reconciliation at Duke Divinity School
[5]
John 14:6
[6]
John 11:25
[7]
John 10:11 and 14
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