Several years ago I was on the beach with my father when I asked him how he knows God exists. He paused for a moment, and then he pointed out toward a sand bar in the distance. He said, “You know there is a school of fish out there. Do you see the flock of birds hovering over the water? They are there because the fish are there. I don’t have to see the fish to know that they are just beneath the surface.” And that’s where he left it. It was up to me to decipher his answer.
I’m not sure my father’s answer would have satisfied Thomas, though. Thomas seems to be a realist of sorts. After Lazarus’ death, Thomas tried to convince Jesus not to go toJudeabecause the last time they went, some tried to kill Jesus. When Jesus’ mind was made up, it was Thomas who said, “Let us go with him that we might die with him.” Thomas is certainly not a doubter, at least as far as his faith in Jesus is concerned. He’s simply a realist. It’s not that he doesn’t believe that Jesus is capable of being resurrected; rather he wants to see the wounds.
I was talking to a college student not long ago who had been wounded by the church. She said she had no faith. This may not have been the most pastoral thing, but I asked her if she believed that the planet Neptune existed. “Of course,” she said, with a rather condescending look about her, for which I don’t blame her. I answered, “Have you seen Neptune? I’m not questioning your intelligence, but I am questioning your definition of faith. If we believed simply what we can see, I’m not sure in what we would believe.” Do the blind believe nothing? Do you believe in music? Do the deaf believe in music? What does justice feel like? Can we taste love? I’m paraphrasing now. I wish I was poetic enough to change this student’s life and baptize her on the spot, but this student did not lack faith, she lacked healing, and this is why Thomas’ story is so important. He wasn’t questioning the resurrection; he wanted to see the wounds and whether or not they had been healed.
The story of Jesus and Thomas is important to hear on the Second Sunday of Easter. On Easter, church’s pull out the stops. We adorn our sanctuaries with flowers and trumpets and proclaim to the hundreds of people we haven’t seen since Christmas that the tomb is empty and Christ is alive. Now, I’m not picking on those who disappear after Christmas, I’m saying that the on the Second Sunday of Easter we tell the story of Thomas who was away, who was not with the disciples when the Lord appeared to them. We don’t know where he was or what he was doing. We do know that when Jesus did appear to Thomas he didn’t chastise or say, “Shame on you Thomas, you should go to church more often.” He simply showed his wounds, showed that they had been healed, and Thomas confesses, “My Lord and My God,” a confession the other disciples failed to mention.
The wounds had been healed. Interestingly, the scars were still there, yet they had been healed. This is what Thomas wanted to see; not that his hands and feet had no signs of struggle or suffering, but that his body had been healed. Resurrection, new life, hope in communing with God in heaven is not the belief that our wounds will be erased; rather that God through Christ in the power of the Spirit will heal them. There’s more to the story than an empty tomb on Easter Sunday. It is a story of forgiveness, reconciliation, and healing.
This is one of the reasons why we have Burnt Offerings right after Easter. Tonight we will gather together and eat with one another and in so doing we will raise funds which will enable us to go out into the world and heal wounds. Through our fellowship and our sharing we will help families make ends meet. We will send missionaries toCubaandRussia. We will serve food to the hungry and beautify schools. We will wrap new born babies in new clothing and mentor children on the way of hope. We will change lives. Easter is far more than an empty tomb, and this is why Thomas asks. Thomas doesn’t doubt the Resurrection. He’s questioning whether or not it matters. If Thomas were here today I would say, “Look at the children who have hope. Look at the hungry who are being fed. Look at the Gospel which is being shared on the other end of the world,” to which Thomas would reply, “Christ is Risen! Christ is Risen indeed.”
So, we don’t have to see the fish just beneath the surface to know they are there. Christ opens our eyes to see the birds who have gathered because of the fish. Christ opens our eyes to the needs of the world, so that we might meet those needs with the Easter story of hope. You know, the reason my father and I were on the beach that day is because my uncle owned a condo onPensacolabeach. My uncle died on Wednesday after suffering with Lou Gehrig’s disease for nearly a decade. It’s a terrible disease. It’s senseless and devastating, yet we have hope. Through Christ’s senseless and terrible death, God raised him to new life. And if the Risen Lord was patient enough and loving enough to show his healed wounds to an absent Thomas, to restore his hope, then Christ will do, and does, the same for us. How I wish faith made us immune to suffering, but it doesn’t. It does something greater. It transforms our suffering into hope. Praise be to God. Amen.