There are a few big days in the church year that always use
the same gospel lessons. Having preached on a number of them year in and year out, I
often find myself looking for an alternative. Usually, that’s because there’s
more to the story than one little lesson. An example of that is Maundy
Thursday. We always read the story of the washing of the feet. But there’s so
much more that happens at the Last Supper. As we prepare to strip the altar in
silence—without explanation—I find myself wanting the betrayal to play a larger
role in the lessons. Sure, usually I’d want to preach on the Jesus-mandate,
but, every once in a while, I’d like to hear something else.
The Second Sunday of Easter isn’t one of those. Every year,
it’s the same story—Doubting Thomas’ encounter with the risen Christ—but it’s a
story that I feel might never be exhausted. As a curate, I preached on this
coming Sunday several times, and I have as a rector, too. Every time, I find
myself trying to sort through more than I can deal with in one low-Sunday
sermon. I figure I’ve got 30+ years left in active ministry, and I’d guess that
I’d need at least 15 of those to feel good about preaching Doubting Thomas.
As John makes clear through the words of Jesus, Thomas’
story is our story: “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are
those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” We have not seen. We
have believed—or at least we’re trying to. This narrative is the post-modern,
post-metanarrative, post-I’ve-got-the-answers-so-stop-asking-questions-and-just-believe-what-I-tell-you-to-believe
gospel. It is the gospel lesson for today’s church. It comes at the perfect
time and needs careful thought.
On Easter Day, we proclaim that Christ is risen. We
celebrate the empty tomb. And Easter Day isn’t the right time for the preacher
to battle the doubts of postmodernism. Yes, we want the resurrection to be real
to us, and I tried to stress that in yesterday’s sermon. But Easter isn’t the
time to say, “What if he didn’t really rise from the dead?” As a robust
treatment of this Sunday’s gospel would show, I’m not afraid of that question,
but, if I only have one or two chances to proclaim the gospel to those
Christmas-Easter parishioners, Easter Day isn’t the time to do it. But this
Sunday is.
The ecstasy has worn off. The shock and awe has subsided.
Although the story still begins on the first day of the week—Easter Day—it allows
us some time to reflect on the truth we’ve proclaimed. This is the time to let
our faith mature—to show how it will resist the healthy, natural, honest skepticism
of Thomas.
Of all the Sundays, this is the one preached to the faithful
Christian. They are the ones who journey through the busyness of Holy Week and
Easter and still come back on the
second Sunday of the season. So, preacher, don’t let them down. They are here
asking the same questions as Thomas. “Was the hype of last Sunday for real?
Were we just caught up in the joy of a prescribed observance, or is there
really something here worth putting my faith in?” Tackle the doubts of Thomas
and let us be strengthened in our resolve. We aren’t in church this coming
Sunday because we’re going through the motions. We’re there because we believe—or
at least because we really want to. Help us feel the risen Christ without
actually touching him.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.