"Redeeming Thomas" - John 20:19-31 (April 24, 2022)

John 20:19-29

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then 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. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.’

But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, ‘We have seen the Lord.’ But he said to them, ‘Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.’

A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.’ Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’ Jesus said to him, ‘Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.’

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Sara, in the book of Genesis, doubted that she would ever get pregnant in her old age.  So she laughed when the angel told her it was time to go shopping for maternity wear.  

Peter, in the Gospels, started to walk on water, and then he started doubting, and he sank until Jesus saved him.

Moses, in the book of Exodus, doubted his abilities to stand up to Pharaoh, and yet God used him to deliver the Israelites from captivity.

And yet, the funny thing is, we don’t call Sara “Doubting Sara” or Peter “Doubting Peter.” Last time I checked, I’ve never heard someone refer to Moses as “Doubting Moses.”  Yet, for some reason, nearly two millennia later, we still are taught to refer to Thomas as “Doubting Thomas.”

What a shame.

It’s just not fair when you think about it.  How may of us would shudder to think that one moment of doubt might singularly define us so many years after the fact?  Lord knows I’ve had plenty of moments of doubt in my lifetime.  Heck, I had plenty of moments of doubt this week!

I doubt that this current lull in COVID-19 cases will last.

I doubt the ability of our country to get past petty culture wars and actually focus on real policies that help people.

I sometimes doubt my abilities as a pastor, a husband, as as preacher and teacher.

And, you know what, I doubt God sometimes.  There have been times that, because of my doubt, I’ve stuck myself on the boat watching a braver disciple journey out onto the stormy waters.  There have been times that my doubt has caused me to speak up when I should have stayed silent and to stay silent when I should have spoken up.

So, let’s remove the stigma, shall we?  Doubt is not something to be ashamed of, it’s something to learn from.  The largest moments of learning in my life have been during times of my deepest doubt.  Without doubt, I believe there can be no true faith.  Faith is about living with doubt, not pretending it doesn’t exist.  

So, let’s cut Thomas a break for heaven’s sake.  Enough with the condescending monikers.  Enough with the doubt-shaming.  Enough with stupid argument that if you doubt less God will give you more.  Enough!  Let’s look at this passage with fresh eyes and let’s redeem our friend, Thomas.

Thomas wasn’t there when Jesus appeared to the rest of the disciples.  We don’t know where he was, we only know that he wasn’t fearfully locked in a room, too scared to walk outside.  Maybe he was going for a stroll to process his grief at the death of his friend and savior.  Maybe he was tired of hiding.  Maybe he was going out to get some food to feed his friends whose fears kept them frozen, fettered, and famished.  

All we know is that Thomas wasn’t there.  He didn’t get the benefit of seeing Jesus they way his other friends did.  They saw Jesus’ body and he didn’t.  And so, when Thomas came back, he needed proof because, you know, HE’S HUMAN!  And, honestly, who among us can blame him?  Who among us can honestly say that they wouldn’t have demanded proof had they been in Thomas’ shoes.  It’s easy for us to say we wouldn’t have doubted, but the fact is we have 2,000 years of telling the story of Jesus’ resurrection that Thomas didn’t have access to.

So, when Thomas returns, the disciples preach the second ever Christian sermon to him, they say “We have seen the Lord.”  I say it’s the “second” Christian sermon because the first one was preached by Mary a few verses prior (“I have seen the Lord!”).  After hearing this sermon, this testament to the resurrection, Thomas does not believe.  It’s just too much to take in at once without physical proof in front of him.  It would have been a hard enough thing to take in under the best of circumstances but let us not forget that Thomas is grieving.  Thomas has experienced trauma.  He has witnessed the violent death of his friend.  He is grieving.  And grief obscures reality.  Grief makes us numb and separates us from the reality of the love around us.  Thomas’ grief was certainly a factor in his doubt.

He demands proof.  And he doesn’t just demand any proof.  He demands a very specific proof.  He demands not just to see Jesus’ body but explicitly asks to see his wounds.  It’s all about the scars.  Thomas doesn’t doubt that his friends saw someone.  Perhaps he doesn’t even doubt that his friends saw Jesus.  But, for Thomas, he wants to know that the Jesus that they saw is not some white-washed Jesus devoid of the suffering that made his savior his human savior.  Thomas wanted to see the scars because, for him, the suffering of Christ meant something.  

You see, Thomas’ grief was so real.  He needed something equally as real to heal it.

And so, Thomas looked for the marks.  Some people want a resurrection with no crucifixion.  Some people want to skip all that messy stuff during Maundy Thursday and Good Friday and fast forward to the joy of Easter.  But the joy of Easter is empty without the journey of the days before it.  Thomas, for whatever reason, wanted to hold the two in tension with each other.  He wanted a resurrection that didn’t gloss over the brokenness of the world.  Thomas looked for the marks.  

And other folks are looking for the marks as well.  You see, there are many people out in the world who are looking for the marks on Jesus’ hands and the mark on his side where the spear pierced him.  Because those marks are marks of proof that Jesus’ did not remain at a safe distance from the brokenness and suffering of the world.

My New Testament professor, Elizabeth Johnson, says the following of today’s story:

“People are waiting to see the marks.  They are not looking for the marks in Jesus’ hands and side anymore.  They wait instead to see the marks of the Church - the wounds in our hands and our sides - the evidence that we are really connected to the Jesus who was crucified and raised…

“The marks that matter today are not the ones in Jesus’ hands and side, but the ones in our communities….So many of the stories we hear of people without faith include their disillusionment with the church as we know it, our failure to make real what we profess.

“What people are looking for, at heart, is some legitimate and trustworthy connection with the Divine…John says…that we find it in the wounded body of Jesus.”

Thomas found his faith in the wounded body of Jesus.  Thomas saw the scars and believed.  Thomas saw the scars that left their violent mark on the innocent body of Jesus and says, with holy awe, “My Lord and my God!”  

We here at Beaumont Presbyterian Church do not proclaim the resurrection of Jesus Christ as if it magically removes the pain of the world.  We don’t sing the alleluias as if the kyries don’t exist.  Because of Thomas’ insistence that we bear witness to the scars of Christ’s body, it means that we - the Body of Christ - must bear witness to those scars as well.  We bear witness to these scars by acknowledging the frank reality that there are wounded folks all around us and among us.  

Because of Thomas’ insistence, I’m reminded that we must not only proclaim the resurrection in the comfort of our sanctuary but in the discomfort of the wounded places in the world around us.

We proclaim the resurrection in the hospital waiting room.

We proclaim the resurrection at the Lexington Pride festival.

We proclaim the resurrection in the offices of the politicians who worship power instead of peace.

We proclaim the resurrection in the midst of those who bear the scars placed on their bodies by racism, lack of affordable healthcare, and economic disparity.

We proclaim the resurrection in the places where many of us choose to avoid because our privilege allows us to pretend as if it all doesn’t exist.

You see, there are many Thomas’ around us, that are looking for the scars on the Body of Christ, A.K.A. the Church.  And we have a choice.  We can hide those scars or we can show them.  We can hide the scars of the resurrection by providing empty worship where people can come to feel good about themselves and temporarily escape the brokenness of the world.  That brand of Christianity is one of the reasons that denominations such as ours having been in sharp decline for decades.  Many people, especially younger folks like me, have become rather adept at sniffing out the churches that hide the scars of the resurrection; the ones that are far more interested with making people comfortable than inviting them into the inconvenient world of discipleship.

Or, instead of hiding our scars, we can show them.  We can acknowledge the scars of Christ by standing with other scarred folks and prophetically calling out and condemning the reasons for those scars.  Because if Christ ignored his scars, then we could justify ignoring the scars of others.   But Christ does not give us such convenience.  Instead, like our faithful friend, Thomas, we will bear witness to the scars by leaving this place and doing the work of God.

Like Thomas, we will not be locked in this room in fear.  We will leave this room, this time, with the proof that we need.  We gather as doubters and leave, not without doubt, but with resurrection hope!  Doubt is what drives us forward.  Doubt is what keeps us taking courageous steps “out of the boat” in order to follow our savior boldly.  Doubt and faith are NOT opposite ends of the spectrum!  Doubt and faith are both gifts that can be held together in beautiful tension with one another.  But, as we do so, let us join Thomas in looking for the marks of oppression, in order that we might stand against such in the name of our resurrected Christ!

In the name of God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer.  Amen.

"The Gift of Bold Action" - Matthew 4:12-23 (January 26, 2020)

Matthew 4:12-23

Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the lake, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled: 

‘Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali, on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles— the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.’  From that time Jesus began to proclaim, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.’

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the lake—for they were fishermen. And he said to them, ‘Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.’ Immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him. 

Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.

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Last week we journeyed through John’s account of Jesus calling his first disciples.  Today, we see what the Gospel writer Matthew had to say about it.  Instead of proclaiming a baptism of repentance by the river, John has been arrested and Jesus feels like he needs to relocate himself for safety’s sake.  

He walks by the Sea of Galilee and sees two brothers, Andrew and Peter, casting their nets into the lake.  Then Jesus turns to them and says 10 words that will forever change their life:  “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.”  Without a word, they drop their nets and follow him.  The three of them continue on their way until they stumble upon James and John.  Jesus calls out to them with presumably the same invitation and they, too, follow him in a manner even more dramatic that Andrew and Peter because the two of them abandon their father who was right there in the boat with them mending the nets.

Together, the five of them - Jesus, Andrew, Peter, James, and John - go all throughout Galilee doing the work of the Gospel.  This work to which Jesus invites them is described with three verbs - teaching, proclaiming, and curing.

They taught and proclaimed the Good News of the Gospel and then they physically manifested it by curing people.

It’s a pretty simple story; not without its curiosities, of course, but simple nonetheless.

Jesus recruits regular folks and then travels with them teaching, proclaiming, and curing.

The focus of this sermon is, hopefully, going to be as simple as the story which inspires it.  This week, as I was preparing this sermon, there was one simple detail of this story that stood out to me:  the movement of the passage.

Jesus begins his ministry in today’s passage by being on the move.  Jesus didn’t start his ministry by erecting a church and building a new gymnasium to attract folks.  Jesus didn’t hire a young pastor to attract other young families.  Jesus didn’t find followers by sitting still and asking them to come to him.  

Jesus found followers by being out in the world - their world - and finding them in the ordinariness of their lives.

Now, that may seem like a foreign concept to us but, in a way, that’s not unlike how this congregation was founded.  In the 1950’s, this part of Lexington was flourishing as the suburban boom happened and folks from 2nd Presbyterian Church decided to plant a church here where the people were beginning to move.

Today’s passage is a helpful, and perhaps unsettling, reminder that we are not called to remain stationary in our journey to be followers of Christ or, as this passage puts it, fishers of people.  In fact, if we take it a step further, we can also glean this truth:  going to worship once a week does not make someone a follower of Christ; it makes them a church-goer.

Now please don’t get me wrong:  what we’re doing right now, this act of worship, is not unimportant.  I in no way wish to suggest that worship is some meaningless exercise.  On the contrary, worship is the single-most important way in which we are molded into followers of Christ to go and serve him in the world.  However, worship must always be focused on training us for what we do in Christ’s name “out there.”

You may have noticed that for the past few weeks I’ve led the charge and benediction from the rear of the sanctuary.  I’ve been very intentional in doing so because it redirects our gaze from the front of the sanctuary to the back of it where most of us exit this place.  It changes our focus to what we’ve been doing to what we’re about to go do.

Worship prepares us to go out in the world and be the Body of Christ.  Worship prepares us to share with the world the gift of bold action.  What Andrew, Peter, James, and John did was nothing if it wasn’t bold.  They left the comfort of what they knew how to do and followed Jesus into the unknown.

To put it another way:  Jesus left the building, and so did they.

So, today’s passage compels us to ask ourselves the following question:  what are we, as a congregation, doing outside our doors that is serving our community where they are?  Another more dramatic way to ask that question is to ask another:  if this church were to close its doors today, what percentage of people who live within a two mile radius of us would notice?  What void would that leave here in the west end of Lexington?

So, to end this sermon, I’d like to lift up a few examples of how some of us at Beaumont Presbyterian Church were “church” outside of our doors over the past 72 hours.

On Thursday evening, we began our Exodus Bible Study at Panera Bread.  13 of us crammed around a table, broke bread with one another, and dove into this dramatic book of the Bible.  Something about meeting outside of the church walls changes our conversation.  Also, more than once, we’ve had a random person come over, intrigued about what we’re talking about, and ask to listen in.  Who knows the seeds that could be planted?

Then, on Friday, a handful of us drove to Central Baptist Hospital to sing to Russell Huffman.  With hymnals in hand, we surrounded him - literally - with songs of God’s grace.  After singing to him for about 30 minutes, we placed our hands on him, anointed him with oil, and prayed with him.

Then, yesterday, about 10 of us gathered to go see the movie Just Mercy at the mall, witnessing a heartbreaking but hopeful story of the relentless search for justice.  

These are only three examples of ways that Beaumont Presbyterian Church has been church outside of our walls.  I know there are many other ways.  Some of you volunteer at God’s pantry.  Others of you volunteer in other ways.  I’m very aware the behind the scenes much goes on to fulfill our calling to be followers of Christ.

But we can’t stop here.  We can’t stop now.  Christ compels us to take bold action in following him.  Because if Jesus has left the building, we need to as well.  I hope this physical place is a refuge for each of you.  I hope that this church building is a safe space to come and pray, play, eat, serve, and sing.  But, at the end of the day, this building is nothing more than a building.  If it burned to the ground, Beaumont Presbyterian Church would still exist.  

So come to this building, friends!  Let us gather here to work and worship.  But let us not get “stuck” in this building.  For Jesus is on the move, and we’d do well to keep our walking shoes on.

In the name of God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, may all of us, God’s children, say:  Amen.

"The Gift of Unbridled Curiosity" - John 1:29-42 (January 19, 2020)

John 1:29-42

The next day he saw Jesus coming towards him and declared, ‘Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! This is he of whom I said, “After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.” I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.’ And John testified, ‘I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, “He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.” And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God.’

The next day John again was standing with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by, he exclaimed, ‘Look, here is the Lamb of God!’ The two disciples heard him say this, and they followed Jesus. When Jesus turned and saw them following, he said to them, ‘What are you looking for?’ They said to him, ‘Rabbi’ (which translated means Teacher), ‘where are you staying?’ He said to them, ‘Come and see.’ They came and saw where he was staying, and they remained with him that day. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon. One of the two who heard John speak and followed him was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother. He first found his brother Simon and said to him, ‘We have found the Messiah’ (which is translated Anointed). He brought Simon to Jesus, who looked at him and said, ‘You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas’ (which is translated Peter).

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Today, we’re talking about the Gift of Unbridled Curiosity.  Given the title of the sermon, I thought it would be fitting to share with y’all a story I recently had with a horse.  Last week, I went over to Pisgah Presbyterian Church to see my good friend, Hannah, who will soon be installed as their next pastor.  Pisgah Presbyterian Church is located right behind the castle on Versailles Road and could not be in any more quaint of a location.  Founded back in the late 1700’s, the church buildings sit nestled in a field surrounded by a very old cemetery and horse farms.  

As I pulled up in my car, I parked next to a fenced in area containing several horses.  One of the horses, a mare, seemed particularly curious of me and stepped up to the fence.  I reciprocated with my sense of curiosity and stepped up to greet her.  She seemed enamored with me and began sniffing me and lowering her face so that I could pet her.  I giggled and said, “hello there.”  She seemed particularly fascinated by my hands and started to lick and gently nibble them.  Which was when I remembered that just before exiting the car I had applied some lavender Bath and Body Works hand sanitizer to my hands.  The mare was clearly quite a fan of the smell and taste.  I laughed as she licked my hand with her massive tongue and huffed in appreciation.

But our lovely moment was soon brought to a traumatic end when the mare promptly sneezed directly on my face.  I don’t know if you’ve ever had the experience of being sneezed on by a horse but, let me tell you, it was a LOT of phlegm!  I stood in stunned silence for a moment when I heard laughter from behind me.  My friend, Hannah, had arrived just in time to see the hilarious scene.  As I began to wipe off my face and clean my glasses, I understood that curiosity had gotten the best of me and had taught me that while horses appreciate the small and the taste, Bath and Body Works’ lavender hand sanitizer will cause a horse to sneeze violently in your face.

Curiosity is the birthplace of learning, growth, and innovation.  Sociologically speaking, curiosity is the birthplace of religion.  Why are we here?  Where do we come from?  What is the meaning and of life?  What happens when we die?  Without the innate curiosity of these human questions, there would be no religion.  And yet, here we are, asking these questions still after many millennia.  Curiosity is what makes us human.

And, even more specifically, curiosity is the root of those of us in the Reformed tradition.  The Reformation began in the 1500’s when theologians such as Martin Luther became increasingly frustrated by the Catholic Church’s opposition to the curiosity of its congregants.  The leaders of the Protestant Reformation sought to create a version of Christianity that encouraged curiosity instead of oppressing it.

And so, more than five hundred years later, here we are continuing this theological tradition of curiosity.  Even if it means that every once in awhile it gets us in situations where a horse might sneeze on our face.

Today’s passage comes to us from the first chapter of the Gospel of John, as John the Baptist sees for the first time the man that he has been proclaiming in the wilderness for all those years.  John the Baptist has been preparing the way for Jesus Christ and now is the time.  And John doesn’t miss a beat.  His prophetic curiosity leads him to identify Jesus immediately.  

“Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! This is he of whom I said, ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ I myself did not know him; but I came baptizing with water for this reason, that he might be revealed to Israel.”

The next day, John is standing with two of his disciples and Jesus yet again walks by.  Again, John points to Jesus and says, “Look, here is the lamb of God!”  Then, curiosity gets the best of his disciples.  The safer option would have been for them to remain with John the Baptist.  I imagine they’ve gotten used to the routine of being a disciple of John the Baptist.  Wake up.  Head to the river.  Preach about the coming Christ.  Baptize folks in his name.  Maybe call some passing Pharisees a brood vipers.  Go home.  Sleep.  Wake up.  Repeat.

But, they choose the other option.  They leave their status quo and are led by curiosity to follow this man that John the Baptist has been telling them about all these years.  They follow him for a while before Jesus senses their presence and turns around to face them.  After their brief interaction, their journey begins and curiosity has officially gotten the better of them.

The disciples could have stayed put.  But instead they took a chance.  A dangerous one.  They took a chance that was fraught with risk because the Holy Spirit stirred up within them a sense of curiosity about what God was doing in their lives.

Curiosity is the first step of living a life of faith.

You see, when we exercise curiosity, it communicates at least two things:

First of all, to be curious is to admit that we don’t have all the answers.  If we were all knowing, then there would be no need for curiosity.  

Secondly, to be curious is to admit that God is still creating and that there is always more to learn about ourselves, our world, and each other.

Curiosity is an act of faith because it’s what makes space for the Spirit to move.  

Beaumont Presbyterian Church would not exist if it weren’t for the curiosity of members of Second Presbyterian Church who wondered what might happen if they planted a church here on the west end of Lexington.

The hymns that we sing would never have been written had it not been for the curiosity of the hymn writers, wondering what would happen if they combined theology with music.

The liturgical art that hangs around this sanctuary would never have been created without the curiosity of those who worked on them.

And those acts of curiosity extend far beyond the story of this church:

Tomorrow, we’ll observe Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.  Martin Luther King was a brilliant practitioner of curiosity because he and the other leaders of the Civil Rights Movement had the curiosity to imagine a world in which people were not treated differently because of the color of their skin.  But the Civil Rights Movement gave us another truth about curiosity:  curiosity is risky work.

The disciples who began to follow Jesus in today’s passage did not embark on a journey of convenience and comfort.  Rather, their curiosity led them on a path to challenge the economic and cultural norms of that day.  And, therefore, they met resistance.  Their work was not welcomed by those who benefited by keeping the world as it was.  But the work of the Church is prophetic curiosity that challenges such structures.

And that work continues to this day in the Church.

We, as a church, are at a place where we need to have an innate sense of curiosity in order that we might give the Spirit some wiggle room to work among us.  Maybe the best gift we can give God, and one another, is to remain curious.

Because only the curious have something to find.

In the name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, may all of us, God’s children, say:  Amen.

"Well, THAT Escalated Quickly: Part 2" - Luke 9:28-43a (March 3, 2019)