A Most Important Sunday
Sermon by The Rev. Andrew W. Walter
John 20:19-31
Easter Sunday has come and gone. I have to admit I am a little relieved to have survived my first Easter as an ordained priest and to have survived my first Easter here at St. Luke’s. However, I am also a little disappointed that it’s over. The Sunday after Easter is always a bit of a let down. Last week, we had lots and lots of beautiful flowers, we had hordes of people, we had horns and timpani, we sang Jesus Christ is Risen Today, and this week, they are all gone. Today is a bit of a let down.
The church itself seems resigned to this attitude. Around the country, many in the church bemoan the lack of numbers in the pews, they say, “it’s always that way the Sunday after Easter,” and in colloquial church parlance they refer to today as “low” Sunday. But I think we have it all wrong. Today is a most important Sunday. Today is a most important Sunday and as we look at today’s Gospel reading and the story of Thomas, we will see that is true for him, and it is true for us as well.
Jesus first appeared to the disciples on the day of the resurrection, but for some reason Thomas wasn’t there. The Gospel doesn’t give us any explanation for his absence, but Thomas seems to have had an independent streak about him. A few weeks ago, we heard the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. Jesus was determined on going to Lazarus’ home in Bethany even though there was great hostility towards him in that region. When his disciples tried to talk him out of it, it was Thomas said, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” At the last supper, after Judas had run out and Jesus told his disciples not to be afraid for they knew the way he was going, it was Thomas who said, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” In other words, Thomas wasn’t a docile follower. He was an independent thinker. He was brave. He was willing to commit when he thought he was in the right, willing to say what was on his mind, willing to ask the questions nobody else would.
Yet, that’s not how we remember him. For uttering one line - 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 – Thomas has, for two thousand years, been labeled with the unfortunate nickname “doubting.” That is not the kind of nickname to have if you hope to be remembered as a pillar of the faith. I feel sorry for Thomas.
In preparing to preach this morning, I wanted to learn more about Thomas. He only appears in the Gospels those three times to which I just referred, and I wanted to look for any other information about him that might exist. I went to my book shelf and pulled down a number of my old seminary textbooks but discovered they did not have much. So I did what lots of people do these days when they want to learn more about someone - I “googled” him. I sat down at my computer, typed in “Saint Thomas,” hit enter and up came: vacation deals to the Caribbean; everything from cheap flights to all-inclusive hotel packages, but there was nothing about Thomas himself.
Then I typed in “doubting Thomas,” and I got website after website of information and commentary. One of the things I learned is that according to church tradition, Thomas traveled all the way to India to spread the Good News of Jesus Christ, but we don’t remember him for that either, do we? Thomas is the Rodney Dangerfield of the disciples; he just doesn’t get any respect. We could remember him as “brave” Thomas or “independent” Tom or “travelin’” Tom, but no, in human memory he will always be “doubting.”
I feel sorry for him. I feel sorry for him because I think all of us want to be remembered for the good we’ve done rather than for our slip-ups or mistakes, to be remembered for the strengths of our character rather than our weaknesses. We all want to have a good reputation in our businesses, in our community, in our church so that when others hear our name they’ll think of someone who made a difference, someone who is good. That is not happening for Thomas. He is only remembered by the name “doubting,” but on the other hand, what is in a name?
The other day I heard the story of a woman whose husband came into some money so she commissioned a genealogist to research her family tree. Her intention was to publish the findings privately. The research began, but a terrible thing happened. The genealogist discovered that the woman’s great-grandfather was a murderer. He’d been sent to the electric chair at Sing-Sing. Of course, at the woman was horrified. “You can’t print that,” she cried to the researcher, “You’ll ruin our family name. You’ve got to do something. You’ve got to make it presentable.” The researcher thought and thought until suddenly inspiration struck. The final account published in the book read that the woman’s great grandfather had “occupied the chair of applied electricity in one of America’s best known institutions.”
“What’s in a name?” Shakespeare once wrote. “That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” Shakespeare was so right. What matters is who someone is or was, not what they are called.
A week after the resurrection, Jesus appeared the disciples a second time. Only this time, Thomas was there, and when he saw the risen Christ, he declared “my Lord and my God.” It was on this most important Sunday that Thomas experienced the power of the resurrection – the love and forgiveness – and from that moment on, he spent the rest of his life proclaiming the name of Jesus wherever he went. Being a follower of Jesus has nothing to do with our name, but it has everything to do with Jesus’ name. We may remember Thomas for one moment of doubt, but God knows him for the sum total of his life, for the actions that earned him the names Christian and Saint and that is all that matters.
For those of us who long to be remembered as Christians, Thomas serves as an example. Last week we experienced the joy and power of Easter Day. By raising Jesus from the dead, God rolled away the barriers that separate him from us. It was a historic event with cosmic significance. It was God’s ultimate move. We know how Thomas responded. How are we going to respond? That is the question that faces us today, and that is what makes today a most important Sunday for us. Thomas has come and gone. Easter Sunday has come and gone, but Easter isn’t over if we take this opportunity to grab hold of God’s truth and to live our lives by it. Doing this won’t make a name for ourselves because many of times, maybe even most of the times, what we do will go unnoticed: we’ll visit a sick friend, offer words of forgiveness, lend an ear to someone who wants to talk, extend a hand to someone who needs help. All of these things will bear quiet witness to the fact that Easter isn’t over. Everyday is Easter as we continue to carry out Christ’s work in the world. Everyday is Easter as we put aside our own self interests and love our neighbors as we wish to be loved. Every day is Easter as we strive by word and action to proclaim to all God’s people everywhere in the world:
Alleluia. Christ is risen!
* Some inspiration and ideas for this sermon came from the works of Barbara Brown Taylor and Peter Gomes. The story of the woman and the genealogist comes from a sermon delivered by the Rev. Terence Elsberry, rector of St. Matthew’s church, Bedford, NY.
