Thomas, Patron Saint of Doubt; Sermon, April 23, 2017

John 20:19-31

Today we are reading about the disciple known as Thomas.  Thomas really gets a bad rap.  He is best known by the label, ‘doubting Thomas’ – or perhaps, as was brought up in Bible Study this week, as an admonishment from our mothers, religious teachers or pastors – ‘Don’t be a doubting Thomas’. 

But was he really a doubter?  Does he deserve this nickname?

Thomas the disciple speaks three times in the book of John.  The first time was in the scripture we read just a few weeks ago; the raising of Lazarus.  When word reaches Jesus that Lazarus is gravely ill, and at long last Jesus decides to return to Jerusalem, the disciples know that Jesus is walking into danger.  Jesus has already become problematic in the city, and this return will hasten his end.  According to the scripture, one of them says, ‘Rabbi, they were just trying to stone you and now you want to return?’  When Jesus answers in the affirmative, it is Thomas who takes the lead without any hesitation, calling to the other disciples, “Let us go die with him.”  Let us go, and die with him.  That’s some pretty strong commitment.  Ardent Thomas.  Loyal Thomas.

And a few verses later, when Jesus is giving cryptic instructions about where he will be going, and how the disciples will be there too, it is Thomas who presses him for details.  “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”  Now, you could read this as a teenager might say it to an annoying parent, right before rolling their eyes.  “If I don’t know where you are going, how can I meet you there?” 

But I don’t think that’s quite right.  I mean, Thomas calls Jesus, ‘Lord.’ And, I’m not sure they actually had sarcasm back then.  No, rather, this seems to me to be an honest question, the kind of question no one else has the guts to ask.  “Actually, Lord, I have no idea what you are talking about.” Honest Thomas.  Earnest Thomas.  Plain talk Thomas.

And then we come to today’s scripture, and Thomas’ proclamation of ‘doubt’.  But is it, really?  The text tells us that Thomas wasn’t there when Jesus appears to the disciples the first time.  The text doesn’t say where he was, just that he wasn’t there. We don’t know where his friends find him, but they tell him the news. And how does Thomas react? Is he overjoyed and comforted? No. He reacts just as the disciples do when Mary tells them the same thing – with disbelief.  With confusion. With questions.  His declaration that he wants to touch the wounds of Jesus may seem extreme to us, but really it still shows the same character he’s displayed all along.  Thomas has the courage to ask the tough questions.  He wants the same opportunity as the others had – he wants to see it for himself.

I think Thomas has been mislabeled. 

Thomas is a straight shooter, a nuts and bolds type of guy. He may not have much imagination, but he does have an enquiring mind. Thomas asks the tough questions that others may be scared or embarrassed to ask. Thomas is a no-nonsense guy. 

We all know these types of people.  People who don’t get carried away with flowery poetry or romantic notions.  People who are thinking on the regular, concerned with logistics.  How are we going to get there?  What’s going to happen when we get there?  How do we need to prepare?  Show me, prove it.  Practical Thomas.  Demanding Thomas.

What if your mother said to you, ‘don’t be a Practical Thomas’… would that really be a bad thing to be?

After centuries of telling the story of Thomas, he has gotten quite a reputation.  Did you know that Thomas is considered the Patron Saint of Science?  Because of his doubt, and his demand for proof, he is often heralded as the progenitor of the scientific method, where doubt is elevated as an important value.

Yesterday, on Earth Day while I was learning about growing microgreens and environmentally safe cleaning products at Central Community College, thousands of people embarked on a ‘March for Science’ in cities like Boston, Chicago, and DC. And that got me thinking about Galileo, the scientist perhaps most famous in history for being at odds with religious thought.

In the year 1623, a scientist by the name of Galileo Galilei published writings on whether the Sun rotated around the Earth or the Earth rotated around the Sun.  The writings were a response in an ongoing, public debate on the subject with a Jesuit Priest, and they were greeted with wide acclaim, particularly by the new pope Urban the Eighth, to whom they had been dedicated.  10 years later, that same Pope would preside over the religious institution known as the Inquisition that demanded Galileo recant and placed him under house arrest until he died in 1642.

This public debate began as a dispute over the nature of comets, but by the time Galileo had published his last article, titled The Assayer in 1623, it had become a much wider controversy over the very nature of science itself. Because that article contained so many of Galileo's ideas on how science should be practiced, it has been referred to as his scientific manifesto.

Surprisingly, Galileo was originally intent on going into the Priesthood.  His father insisted he study medicine, which was a more lucrative career choice.  However, somewhere in his studies he became sidetracked by Mathematics and Geometry – by asking tough questions, and entertaining doubt.  In all his life, Galileo still remained a strongly devout man, so much so that he dedicated his research to the head of the Catholic church.  And when he was being tried by the Inquisition, and asked to deny the very things that came from his own mind, he promised he had, but the Inquisition didn’t believe him. 

Last week, Hastings College professor Dan Deffenbaugh offered an excellent lecture on the Islamic faith, in preparation for the Muslim speaker, Dr. Abla Hasan, who will be speaking at Hastings College on Friday.  I was already familiar with some parts of Islam – that the main thrust of Islam is submission to the will of Allah, the Arabic word for God, and that the word Islam derives from a root word “salam” that means peace. But there was much in Deffenbaugh’s lecture that surprised me.  Some of the basic tenets of Islam mirror our own Enlightenment values.  The theology underlying Islam says that God can be known only through reason, and that ignorance prevents humans from truly knowing God, or Allah.  Muslims believe the revelations in the Qu’ran are how ignorance about God is dispelled. 

Depiction of the Islamic Golden Age in Spain

I found this interesting because it’s so very different from what we hear about Islam today.  We hear about the Taliban, or ISIS, women in burkas, and violent jihad as the epitome of Islam. But that is not the Islam of history, or the Islam of millions today.  As we covered in one of the classes about Israel, from the 8^th century there was an Islamic Golden Age, centered in Spain.  During that time, Islamic scholars in their quest for knowledge came up with the size of the earth, latitude and longitude, pharmacy, ophthalmology and cataract surgery, and the concept of zero. Islamic civilization continued to be the height of literary and scientific development in the world until the savage Christian Crusades brought it to an end in the 13^th Century.  It was their ideas, brought back to the Christian West after the Crusades, that paved the way for our Enlightenment and scientists like Galileo to map out the stars.

And yet, Galileo was forced to recant and condemned by religious officials.  And a backward form of Islam has risen to such prominence in the modern day – at least in the media - that we sometimes have trouble seeing through it to the founding principles that lie underneath, and those things we have in common.  The truth is, proclamations of faith and demands for faith can do wonderful and terrible things, depending on who is in charge.  Luckily for Thomas, God was in charge.

We like to shame Thomas for needing proof.  But the truth is, most of us can see ourselves in Thomas’ shoes – perhaps wish we had his courage and his opportunity to ask the tough questions.  Jesus knows who Thomas is – after all, Jesus called him.  Jesus knew his character, and knew his strengths – and needs.  Jesus knows Thomas is loyal, ardent, earnest, courageous, plain-spoken and practical.  And he knows what Thomas needs to believe. 

And, once he has seen, he proclaims, “My Lord and My God.”

Like the other disciples, Thomas doesn’t come to the fullest faith until he has his own experience. I say fullest faith, because he already has faith, but to accept these strange and incredible happenings is to move it to the next level. I think that Jesus offered it without judgment, as a lesson for those of us who need to read this story.  Not so that we will feel shame in our doubt, but so that we can see ourselves in the story.  Because God makes us all – some of us whimsical, some of us grounded; some of us imaginative, some of us practical; some of us shy and others outspoken; some of us visionaries and some of us detail-oriented. 

God knows our strengths and our needs, our gifts and our inquiries.  God provides for us, as we need, when we look for it.  That’s why the invitation from the gospel of John is to Come and See.  Come, look. Touch. Reach. Use all your senses to know and understand that some things cannot be explained.  Look, and be moved to the next level, to the fullest faith. That is the power, the majesty, and the love of God – approaching us all in different ways, but available, inviting, and accepting, no matter who we are.

Amen.

Following Instructions; Easter Sermon, April 16, 2017

Matthew 27:50-66, 28:1-10

He Is Risen!  He Is Risen Indeed!

Let us give thanks for the all-encompassing love shown by God through the Risen Christ!   Pray with me…

I’m breaking a few ministry rules this morning.  Typically, the only scripture ever read on Easter morning – Resurrection Morning – is that of the resurrection.  The talk of death is left to Good Friday.  Scripture on Resurrection Day always begins with the women, walking to the tomb at dawn, and discovering the empty tomb.  In the Gospel of John, the stone is already rolled away when then arrive, and the women carry with them spices with them, clearly with the purpose to anoint Jesus’ body.  In the gospel of Mark, the women run from the tomb in fear – and that is the abrupt ending of his account. 

But that is not Matthew’s account. Every gospel has slightly different accounts of the resurrection.  I broke this rule today because I wanted you to really hear the Gospel of Matthew.

In his gospel, Matthew is proclaiming that the divide between Heaven and Earth has been crossed. When Jesus dies, there is a tear in the fabric that separates God’s realm from our realm.  The temple cloth was ripped in two, the earth shakes, and the dead arise. It is terrifying enough that even a Roman Centurion, those that just moments before were just mocking and harassing Jesus, is persuaded that something different is happening.  He exclaims, ‘Truly, this IS God’s son!’  But some people are not afraid. Some people have heard, and believe, and are just following instructions. 

Late last summer, just before coming to Hastings, I helped my cousin cross something off of her bucket list; we took a Trapeze class.  Yes, in the list of all the crazy things available in the big city, trapeze class is one of those things.  In fact, I have nieces who take classes in circus arts pretty regularly in Boston.  But trapeze class - for me, in this body, at this age, with my occasional fear of heights - was not something I had ever considered.  But, I’m never one to pass up an experience if it’s affordable, so we proceeded to the NY Trapeze School Chicago on the lakefront and paid for our 2 hours of instruction in flying trapeze.

The craziest thing about trapeze class was the way your disbelief blended with fear and adrenaline – and yet, required continued courage.  Unlike skydiving – a one-time jump, - you had to act continually if you were going to succeed. You just had to push through that fear and get up again, and again. 

First, there was the ladder into the sky.  You climbed up, and up, and up, to a small-ish platform far far above the ground.  The first two times you climb this ladder, they secure your harness with ropes – after that, you are on your own.  After about 5 times topping that ladder, with my hamstring muscles screaming and soaked with adrenaline, I almost didn’t go back up. 

Next, while you are standing on an unguarded platform 22 feet off the ground, you have to move to the front and hang your toes off the front edge to grab the trapeze bar, and stand in that stretched, tense, awkward position for what feels like an eternity while the sentry behind you secures your harness and your ‘catch’ – the other person involved in this equation – times their swinging to yours.

Third, they ask you to bend your knees and jump.  This was really the moment of truth, each and every single time.  They would call “Hup Hup” and on the second one, you were expected to plunge off the platform and towards the net at the speed that your body determined.  And that’s where you felt it.  That incredible drag deep in your gut as the trapeze dipped to it’s lowest point, and then pulled you back upward.  You would not BELIEVE the power of centrifugal force when you are swinging 16 feet in the air.  I mean, we’ve all accepted that gravity exists. But I tell you, I didn’t have any idea what it really felt like until I was desperately trying to hold onto that crossbar.  A few times, I let go.  Once I let go at the end of the arch with my knees up, and nearly came down on my head, which could have broken my neck if it wasn’t for some masterful maneuvering of the guy running my harness. That’s the other part of centrifugal force.  It spins you with the slightest movement.

Anyways, it takes you a bit to start to read the arch, and when you are faced with that much adrenaline your mind kind of goes numb.  There’s an instructor standing on the ground, barking out commands.  “Forward. Back. Forward. Look up. Knees up. Release.  Stretch. Smile. Drop.”  His commands are timed, and if you can fight through your nerves enough to listen, he will help you get to completion.  But, as so often happens to those in his class, either his words don’t penetrate your brain, or you are just not ready to trust anything in the midst of all your fear.

Cousin Beth following instructions to 'Smile'!

The Angel in our gospel says, “don’t be afraid. Don’t YOU be afraid.”  He says this to the women, while the guards from Pilate quake and shake and fall over as if they were dead.

Unique to the gospel of Matthew, the chief priests ask that the tomb be guarded throughout the night.  Only in the gospel of Matthew do the ruling powers – the priests and Pilate – make sure to guard the tomb, lest the body be stolen away to fuel the Jesus movement that has captured the belief of so many.  They seal the tomb and post a centurion to guard the tomb through the night.

Matthew knows that the power of the state authorities is no match for God.  The state, so threatened by the teachings that there is no division between us, that there is no hierarchy among us, that no religious law that keeps us from being in God’s community together, is scandalized.  The authorities are outraged.  And they are scared.  They are so scared of that truth, of that freedom, of the love that underscores those teachings, that they have done what Earthly authorities do.  The state has reverted to the usual tactics; monitoring and reporting. Threats and intimidation.  Incentives and betrayal.  Capture and detainment.  Trial and verdict.  And, finally, violence.  This is the toolbox of Imperial power.  Power will always work to reassert its power.

The state has employed all the tools at its disposal to prevent others from risking the same fate.  And then, even though they’ve won, the earthly authorities stand by to guard their triumph.  They stand by to guard their superior power.

And yet, the earth shakes.  The curtain tears. The dead rise, and the instruments of the state quake in their boots. 

When you’ve put all your faith in your superior force, losing control will shake your foundations.  So of course, the guards are terrified, and fall over as if dead.  But the women – the women are not afraid. 

The women in Matthew’s gospel have heard Jesus, and their faith leads them.  At dawn, they are heading towards the tomb – but unlike in John’s version, they are not going with oils and spices. They aren’t going to anoint the body.  They aren’t going to make sure it’s secure.  They aren’t hiding out in an upper room, where the disciples are.  They aren’t hiding behind armed guards.  They are going in search of Jesus.  They heard him tell that he would be raised, and they believed.  They aren’t on steady ground, but they have come to see for themselves.

On the Trapeze, swinging through the air, if you are still functioning, if you can hear through the haze adrenaline and fear, all you can do is listen to instructions.  I think about this when I think about these women, moving through the drag and pull of their grief to the tomb. Following instructions. Walking to the tomb.   To come and see, for themselves.

Hup. Hup. Jump. Forward. Back. Forward.  … Knees Up.  Release hands. Stretch. Look up. Hands out.  Smile.  Drop.

For that moment, suspended in mid-air, that suspended moment of disbelief, of complete uncertainty, when everything in your experience is upside down, you look up and wonder – what the heck am I doing?  Where is the ground?  How will I survive this?

When the earth shakes once again, and the angel appears, the guards are terrified, but the women are not.  The angel knows why they have come, and confirms their belief.  “He has been raised, as he said.”  Not only have the women been listening to Jesus, and understood him, but they are also acting on their faith.  They have come to see for themselves.

Everything in these women’s experience dictates a certain order.  There is the sky, this is the ground, and there is the tomb.  People die, and they are gone. They go into the tomb, and then they are buried. And the grief pulls and drags you down.   But for a moment, they are suspending their disbelief, moving through their grief, finding their courage to go and see for themselves.

And then, flying through the air on the Trapeze, suddenly, you are looking someone straight in the eyes.  There are hands on your wrists, clasping.   And you are safe, caught.  Swinging through the air.  Drop averted. Death defeated.  You grab to hold on, and feel the exhilaration and wonder ripple through you.

And they find the tomb empty.  A flash a lightning, and angel speaks, and they are caught.  The gravity of their grief is suspended.  The world order is turned upside-down.  The state has no power over God, who will catch them if they only trust.

In their wonder and exhilaration, the women run to find the disciples, to tell them that the world is not as it would seem.  Like an earthquake, everything is upended.  Everything is rearranged.

The women in Matthew’s gospel are the first to see the world through God’s eyes.   In the haze of their grief, they push through to remember the instructions, as he said.  Come and see.  Third Day. He will rise.

And they jump.  They take a leap of faith.

Today, on Resurrection Day, we are invited to come and see the world through God’s eyes.  Because of today, Resurrection Day, we can give love with abandon, because God’s love cannot be contained, guarded, or suppressed.  Today there is no divide between Heaven and Earth.  We can find courage to peer into the tomb that we fear, because fear has no power over God.   We are invited to trust in faith will lead us to the Risen Christ. He will meet us in Galilee, where the work of healing, and teaching, and raising will continue.  God will continue to abide with us.

In their joyful rush to the disciples, the women meet Jesus, who greets them.  The Matthew passage is very anticlimactic; Jesus simply says ‘Greetings’ in our English translation. But in Greek, to say ‘greetings’ is as if to say, “glad tidings”, as if to say, “rejoice”.  Jesus appears before his most fervent believers with the words, “Rejoice.”  And with outstretched hands and suspended disbelief, they bend and grasp his feet.  Look Up. And Smile. They have been caught, their grief has dropped away, and they are saved.

On Easter, in the presence of the Risen Christ, we greet a world upended, and we rejoice. We rejoice that the world is rearranged, re-ordered, re-valued.  A world where love reigns.  A world where we can trust we will be caught.  Everything is made new. Absolute fear has been transformed. We can have courage to walk through life without fear, trusting in God’s commands:

Love one another, as if there’s no divide between us, because you are part of God’s beloved community. 

And then, we will rise. Thanks be to God.