* Acts 5:27-32 * Psalm 118:14-29 * Revelation 1:4-8 * John 20:19-31

There are some phrases that when we hear them said bring to mind a certain game show host or film or TV character and I wonder if you can guess who I am thinking of when I share some of these with you.

NB If you are reading this sermon online, then look at the end for the answers!

1. “There’s no place like home!”
2. “Ay Carumba!”
3. “I tawt I taw a puddy tat”
4. “Shut that door!”
5. “I’ll be back!”
6. “Nice to see you, to see you – nice!”

And similarly, there are some phrases in our scriptures that when we hear them, we immediately identify who said them,

• “But how can this be since I am a virgin?”
• “Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace”
• “Let there be light!”

And today, in our gospel reading we hear someone utter a phrase that immediately puts us in mind of the speaker –

“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.”

Who do you think of? Of course – the disciple, Thomas!

That one sentence has left Thomas forever labelled Doubting Thomas.

That’s the Thomas with whom we are most familiar. But actually, I think there is another way of looking at Thomas and that’s the Thomas that wants to believe. That’s the Thomas Jesus appears to in today’s gospel.

This is a story about believing, not doubting. If it tells us anything it tells us that ‘resurrection’ is difficult to accept, to believe. It’s not just an idea or a fact to which we give agreement or assent. It is a whole new way of being.

If we’re not wrestling with what resurrection means, it’s place in our life, and how it manifests itself, then maybe it’s not actually that real for us.

Doubting Thomas may be the one that gets the label, but the other disciples also have difficulty believing. On the evening of the first day of the week, the day Jesus was resurrected, they are hiding.

God opened the tomb and they locked the doors. God emptied the tomb and they filled the house. Jesus appears to them in their locked room. He speaks to them. He breathes life into them. But a week later they are in the same place, behind the same locked doors. Nothing much has changed.

Despite how we’ve labelled him Thomas is not doubting. He is simply struggling with how to believe and what to believe in. He wants to see and touch for only one reason. So that he too might believe and there’s something faithful and authentic about that. It’s a struggle most of us have probably had at some point in our lives too and a struggle that some may well be going through right now.

What do we want to believe about Jesus’ resurrection? What gets in the way of our believing? What makes it difficult to believe? And I wonder how we are wrestling and struggling with the resurrection of Jesus in our lives?

Many of us want to believe that Jesus’ resurrection offers peace, but then we see wars across the world, families in conflict and relationships broken. We want to believe that Jesus’ resurrection overcomes death, but we still cry for (and feel the loss of) those friends and family who have died. We want to believe that Jesus’ resurrection is real, but we don’t see much difference in our lives this week compared to the week before Easter.

Sometimes it’s really hard to work out how our “belief” fits with what we see and experience day to day. We can quickly and easily get to the same place as Thomas. Unless we see wars cease, conflict resolved, and relationships reconciled, we will not believe. Unless we feel the presence of a loved one we have lost, our tears dry up and our pain goes away, we will not believe. Unless we experience some measurable difference in our  lives, we will not believe.

When it comes down to it, we’re not really all that different from Thomas.

We each live with at least one “unless clause.” Unless I see, unless I touch, unless I feel, unless I experience, I will not believe. It reveals our struggle with our desire to believe, but it also reveals some  misunderstanding about faith and the resurrection.

Far too often we condition the resurrection not on the power of God, but on the sufficiency of the evidence. Each condition becomes just another lock on the door. It won’t keep Jesus out, but it will keep us trapped inside and it won’t be long before our house becomes our tomb.

The resurrection of Christ does not appear meet the conditions we demand. But it does empower and enable us to meet those conditions. It lets us unlock the doors and step outside even when we don’t know what is on the other side.

The resurrection does not end wars, but it does reveal the sanctity and dignity of life, so that we might speak and work for justice, freedom, and peace. It is the compassion behind the tears we weep and the prayers we offer for all who are victims of hunger, fear, injustice, and oppression.

The resurrection does not magically fix relationships, but it is the energy and perseverance behind our work to reconcile relationships and resolve conflict. It is the power by which we love our neighbour as ourselves.

The resurrection does not eliminate our pain or tears over the death of a loved one, but it does give us the strength to meet the days to come with steadfastness and patience; not sorrowing as those without hope, but in thankful remembrance of God’s great goodness, and in the joyful expectation of eternal life with those we love.

The resurrection does not offer measurable results, productivity, or efficiency, but it does guarantee our life and our future with God.

Resurrection is not an idea to be grasped or a case to be proved. It is a life to be lived. Every time we live in the power of the resurrection, we engage with the world, one another, and our own lives in a new way. We move from saying, “Unless I see…,” to saying, “My Lord and my God.”

I don’t know if Thomas actually put his finger in the mark of the nails or his hand in Jesus’ side. Saint John doesn’t tell us. It doesn’t really matter what Thomas did. That’s not the issue. This story isn’t about Thomas. It’s about us. How will you live? What will you do? Do you truly believe in the resurrection of Our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ?

ANSWERS TO THE CATCH PHRASE QUESTIONS

1. Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz
2. Bart Simpson
3. Tweetie Pie
4. Larry Grayson
5. Arnold Schwarzenegger as ‘The Terminator’
6. Bruce Forsythe
7. Mary, the mother of Jesus
8. Old Simeon
9. God

John 20.1-18

On this most glorious day, when we celebrate Our Lord’s resurrection and His triumph over sin and death there are many great traditions that have grown and developed around the world.

We are all familiar with presenting EASTER eggs, spotting the EASTER bunny and rolling hard boiled, decorated eggs down a grassy, daffodil strewn hill – but what about other traditions from around the globe. I’ll tell you a tradition and let’s see if you can guess which country it comes from (see end of this sermon for answers):

1. There is one tradition which involves young men and boys roaming the streets with brightly decorated willow sticks, usually adorned with ribbons, looking for girls to playfully whip – the whipping is not intended to be painful, but instead is meant to ‘check’ the girls for good health and beauty.

2. On your way to the Caribbean, you could stop off at a tiny island nation where there is a tradition of flying kites shaped like hexagons. These are meant to remind you of Jesus rising from the dead. One of my sisters lives there and the first time she saw this, she was puzzled – in fact it completely ‘bemused ‘er’ .

3. In another country, the mystery of Easter is emphasised through the flooding of television channels, books and even milk cartons with short crime stories – usually so complicated that there is ‘no way’ that viewers and readers can work out whodunnit,

On this day lots of other crazy and amazing things go on – eating red eggs in Greece, decorating holy places with tobacco and cigarettes in Papua New Guinea and even dressing up as witches in Finland – to scare all bad spirits from area on this most holy of days.

It’s all good fun and just a little bit bonkers – what people will get up to on Easter Sunday – I’ve even heard of some people, all around the world who gather in stone or wooden buildings, or in open areas and proclaim that about two thousand years ago a man was crucified and then three days later rose from the dead – and that this man was the son of God! Who would believe something so unbelievable?

To be serious, this is of course what we are doing. We are gathered here together first and foremost to worship almighty God through His Son, Jesus Christ. To give thanks and praise for His sacrifice and His eternal message of salvation and to acknowledge that through our baptism, we belong to Him.

But we also come to church at Easter for a whole host of reasons that are bound up in this message.  We come to church at Easter because that is what our family has always done, and the continued observation of Easter somehow connects us to the past, present, and future, creating a sense of belonging and identity. 

We come to church at Easter, because we long for a good word – a reminder that even in a tumultuous world, there is the promise of resurrection life, joy, and hope. 

We come to church at Easter because we love the music, the flowers, the Easter attire, and the experience of being a part of community. 

And some of us might not be sure why we come to church at Easter, but we suspect, or at least hope, we will find something that can revive our weary souls.

I suspect what most of us are hoping for today is an experience like Mary Magdalene’s.  I am not sure Mary knew why she went to the tomb all those years ago. 

In John’s gospel, Mary is not there with spices to anoint Jesus’ body.  She does not bring flowers or some memento to leave at the tomb.  In fact, she comes to the tomb in darkness, before the morning light has arisen, perhaps in a fog of knowing that she needs something, but not sure what that something might be. 

And then, maybe not unlike the chaos that may have been our morning to get here on time and half-way presentable, Mary’s life  gets thrown into chaos.  An empty tomb means she and the disciples run around like headless chickens. 

Later, Mary finds herself bemoaning to angels and a stranger alike that she just wants Jesus’ body – a physical reminder of all the horror and love and pain that has happened.  And in the midst of this chaos, a simple, profound thing happens.  Mary is called by her name.  And her world gets turned on its head.

There is something very powerful about being called by your name.  Many of us frequent restaurants, pubs or coffee shops because we love being recognised by name by our favourite restraunter, publican or shop keeper. 

If you have ever received a blessing or healing prayer by a person who knew your name, you will know the intimacy that is created between the two of you, and the power of hearing your name lifted up to God. 

Being known by name creates a feeling of acceptance, affirmation, affection, and acknowledgement. We can only imagine the rush of emotions when Jesus calls Mary by name today – not just the recognition of who Jesus is, but the reminder of how much he has loved her.

I suspect we should add that to the list of reasons why we come to church on Easter Sunday. 

We want to be known too.  Perhaps we want to literally be called by name.  But perhaps we know just being here creates the same sense of belonging that being known by name creates. 

When we sit in these pews, we know that we are sitting close to someone who, today, is somehow searching for a sense of belonging too – who also rallied to get to church on time this morning.

When we sit here, we know that we are surrounded by a group of people who also love having their senses overwhelmed – from the smell of fragrant flowers, the joyous sound of music, the taste of communion bread, the sight of fanfare and smiles, being able to look into another’s eyes at the peace. 

In these seats today, we know that we will be offered a word of joy, light, love, hope – and we want our lives to be marked by that same sense of promise.

Now we may feel tempted to take all that affirmation, all that encouragement, and joy, and go about for the next few days on our own personal high – as though the gifts we receive today are solely for us. 

But what all this fanfare, this acknowledgment, and this hope are meant to do is to propel us out into the world. 

When Mary is called by name, receiving the blessing of recognition and encouragement, she does not stay at the feet of the resurrected Jesus. 

She becomes John’s gospel’s first preacher.  “I have seen the Lord,” Mary says to the disciples. 

Now I know some of us will go out from this place today and do just that – we will put on our Facebook page, “Alleluia, Christ is Risen!” or we will exchange EASTER cards to tell each other what a joyous day this is. 

But for others of us, sharing today’s joy may take us a little more time, or may look a bit different from proclaiming, “I have seen the Lord,” to our favourite publican. 

What Mary invites us to do today is find our own way of sharing the beautiful gift we receive – to give someone else the gift of joy and hope, to quietly tell a friend what has happened this day, or to simply call someone else by name – sharing that same sense of belonging and affirmation you receive today.  

You came to church this Easter Sunday for something.  Mary invites you to give that something to someone else. 

Amen.  Alleluia!

Answers to traditions from different countries –

1. – Czech Republic.
2. – Bermuda.
3. – Norway.

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 [1]

Native Americans tell the story of a sacred tree, which the creator has planted. Under it all the people of the earth may gather and find healing, power, wisdom and security. The roots of this tree spread deep into mother earth, its branches reach up like praying hands to father sky. The fruits of this tree are all the good things the creator has given to his people: love, compassion, generosity, patience, wisdom, justice, courage, respect, humility and many other wonderful gifts.

Their ancient teachers taught that the life of the tree is the life of the people. If the people wander far from the tree, if they forget to seek nourishment from its fruit, or if they turn against the tree and try to destroy it, great sorrow will come to them. Many will become sick at heart, they will cease to dream and see visions, they will begin to quarrel among themselves over worthless things. They will be unable to tell the truth and deal with each other honestly. They will forget how to survive in their own land. Their lives will become filled with gloom. Little by little, they will poison themselves and all they touch.

But the tree would never die. As long as the tree is alive, the people would live and one day they would come to their senses and begin to search for the tree and its truth. Wise elders and leaders have preserved knowledge of this tree and they will guide anyone who is sincerely seeking for it.

On this Good Friday we spend time at the foot of our sacred tree – the cross.

There is a medieval poem called The Dream of the Rood which describes the crucifixion from the point of view of the cross, the tree that was cut down and used as a shameful support for a dying man. But the tree says that, much to his surprise, he wasn’t the support for a dead weight, but rather the mount for a triumphant Christ, who rode him like a victor in battle. Over the page is a modern version of the same idea.

Rood-tree (Medieval anon)

I might have been his cradle, rocking him, folding securely against harm.

I could have been a ship, turning my sturdy timbers to the wind, keeping him safe from the storm.

Instead they used me as his cross.

No infant rages rocked the cradle tree, or storm lashed ship such as unleashed on me that day.

Shock waves of hatred crashed against me, bearing on me through his body weight of world’s pain,

Weight of his agony; wringing from him drop by drop,

‘Why , God, you too?’

No comforting protection could I offer, or deliverance; only support, his mainstay in distress.

But did I hold him, or did he with strength of purpose lovingly embrace his work of suffering,

Stretched on my arms?

They say it was a tree whose fruit brought sorrow to the world.

The fruit I bore, though seeming shame, they call salvation.

My glory was it then, to be his tree.

The cross is not ashamed to be associated with Christ and nor should we, marked with the sign of the cross, be ashamed to bear Him with us in our world.

Prayer

If you can, get up and go to your window – take a look out and spend a few minutes in silence looking at the trees or plants you can see around . You might want to make the sign of the cross on yourself – even if it is not your usual custom – this is not a usual day.

Holy God,

May I, signed with the sign of the cross, never be ashamed to confess the faith of Christ crucified, for sake of Him who died and lives for the world, Jesus Christ. Amen.