God, we believe you are light, and in you there is no darkness at all. We ask for you to light our way as we testify to the Word of Life. We pray in the name of the one who is faithful and just, Jesus Christ. Amen.

 

Last Sunday was awesome.

I hope that you got to church somewhere last week, to celebrate the resurrection.

Easter is the foundational event of our religion.

Sure, Jesus was born. He lived and walked and taught and healed. Jesus died.

But that life, that living and walking and teaching and healing, that death – everything that Jesus did on earth meant nothing at all, until death was conquered when Jesus rose from the dead.

Everything that Jesus did in his life led to his death.

And his death led to the Resurrection, the forgiveness of sins, and the reconciliation of all humanity to God.

At Christmastime, we hear that Jesus is the reason for the season.

And that’s true.

But Easter is the reason there’s a season in the first place.

Easter is the reason that Jesus even matters.

Without the Resurrection, we wouldn’t have a religion. We wouldn’t have salvation and forgiveness of sins and a promise of life eternal.

 

Easter is the basis of our faith.

And, you know, it’s easy to be a Christian on Easter.

Last Sunday we had handbells and choirs and three keyboard players leading music during worship.

We had a whole springy garden of flowers surrounding the cross.

The pews were filled to overflowing!

It’s easy to be a Christian on days when there is so much celebration and joy and community and just general euphoria.

 

That was last week.

This week is different.

When the handbells are put away and most of the flowers are gone and the pews are half-empty… When the Easter festivities are over, we can come crashing back to earth.

We feel drawn to worship on Easter, and hopefully part of the reason for that is that we know it’s going to be awesome. We know that there will be great energy in this place, the singing will be festive, the decorations will be beautiful, and the organist will pull out all the stops.

You know that’s a music term, right? For pulling out all the stops on the organ?

 

The week after Easter, not as many of us feel drawn to worship.

If we were singing in the choir last week, or serving as an usher or helping with the Easter breakfast, we might be worn out and wanting a break. The Sunday after Easter feels like a good time to take a day off.

Pastors the world over do it all the time.

 

On a number of levels, it’s just not as easy to be a Christian the week after Easter as it was last week.

We can quickly become disillusioned when we hear stories of what people do in the name of Christianity, both close to home and far away.

We get upset when we hear the message of the Resurrection being distorted by others, and we might wonder whether we actually learned the message the right way in the first place. Is it worth practicing a religion that can so easily be twisted and used for ill in the world?

 

The week after Easter, we might have second thoughts about our belief in the miracle of the Resurrection. It can’t really be historically proven anyway, and someone coming back from the dead seems pretty unlikely in real life.

When Jesus walked the earth, he taught and healed and did ministry.

Everything that happens after the first Easter we call a “Resurrection appearance.”

Why didn’t Jesus do anything other than appear to people after he was raised from the dead? Why don’t we have any great sermons or stories of healing?

What proof do we have that the first Easter even happened?

 

Today, one week after Easter, we have probably come down from the euphoria of celebration and we might be starting to realize that it’s hard to keep the faith sometimes.

We might have doubts.

We might say sure, it’s a good story – but what does it mean for me?

How do I know that all this is true?

The good news is, we’re in good company.

 

Even Jesus’ closest companions had doubts.

Even they found the Resurrection hard to believe.

The disciples’ first reaction to the good news of the empty tomb was to run away, terrified, and not to say anything to anyone.

And now we hear the story of Thomas, who refused to believe in the Resurrection until he got to see Jesus for himself.

To be fair, Thomas wasn’t asking for anything that the other disciples hadn’t already received. They didn’t start believing in the good news until they had seen Jesus either.

All the disciples had the same thought after Jesus was put to death.

Let’s go hide.

A locked room sounds like the perfect place to avoid being persecuted after our leader was murdered by the authorities. Let’s just stay here by ourselves. Let’s not take any risks and end up like Jesus, nailed to a cross.

 

Today, the week after Easter, it can be really easy to have that same attitude.

Most of us can remember a time when our faith was really strong.

But perhaps we’re not so sure about that now.

We’ve been disheartened, disillusioned, and we have our doubts.

We can relate to Thomas.

Give us some proof, Lord! We want to believe – so give us some incontrovertible proof of the resurrection, and then we’ll shout the news from the rooftops!

But until then… it’s kinda hard to put ourselves on the line when we fear that our faith could be discredited by the slightest challenge.

 

We don’t get to see the empty tomb like Mary and Mary and Salome and Peter and John did.

We don’t get to see the resurrected Christ like Peter and Andrew, James and John, Philip and Bartholomew and eventually Thomas.

We don’t get to break bread with the risen Jesus like the disciples who met him on the road to Emmaus.

 

In today’s world, when historic and scientific proof are used to override centuries of faith and theology and Biblical texts themselves, we can really relate to the doubt of Thomas.

Prove it. And then I’ll believe.

Of course, some of us have never experienced serious doubt… but we still know someone who has. We know that doubt is a normal part of the life of faith.

Thomas was not so out of line as the story makes him out to be.

 

Here’s the thing.

Easter is the reason for our whole system of belief, for all our religious traditions and sacred texts and music and coffee after worship.

None of the rest would matter at all if Jesus had stayed in that tomb.

But since he didn’t stay in that tomb, we can have hope that at the end of the day, the powers of the world will not prevail – the power and righteousness and faithfulness of God is stronger than any earthly evil or temptation or doubt.

 

So when we doubt, we can’t be like Thomas, and confront Jesus directly and say, show me your wounds to prove it’s really you.

We might have the same doubt as Thomas, but we don’t get the same assurances.

But I’m guessing that we have met God in other ways.

Have you met God through music?

In the beauty of creation?

In Christian community, or when you’re surrounded by your family, or by some group of people who have shown you unconditional love?

Jesus promises to meet us in the waters of baptism and the words of Scripture and the bread and wine of Communion.

Have you met God in those places? Or somewhere else?

When was the last time you felt compelled to make an outburst like Thomas – My Lord and my God!

 

Here’s the good news today:

Doubt is OK, and it’s a normal part of faith. When we doubt, we are in good company.

But Jesus does meet us, even if it’s in different ways than Thomas and Peter and Mary got to meet Jesus.

 

So here’s the challenge for today:

Figure out where you meet Jesus.

Remember when you last felt like you were in the presence of God.

And go back there. Do it again.

Make the music, experience the creation, participate in the community, share the bread and the wine, the water and the word.

Keep your hearts and minds and eyes and ears open to wherever it is that God comes to meet you.

Seek out ways to meet Jesus.

Be prepared to have your locked room be broken into by God.

And though you may not get to see the wounds in his hands, Jesus does promise to meet you.

Do not doubt, but believe!

 

Amen.

 

This sermon was first preached at Lake Edge Lutheran Church, on the Sunday following Easter, April 12, 2015 (lectionary year B). John 20:19-31.