Sermon: 16 April 2023 Easter 2Text: Acts 2.32-35; John 20.19-31Theme: The proof of the Resurrection is in the words we speak…Let us pray:
At the end of all your surprises you send among us the One who was crucified, dead and buried, and risen into glory. He comes now as a living Lord, defying our locked doors, banishing our fears, greeting us with peace, and overwhelming us with awe and wondering love. How paltry is our vaunted knowledge, how pathetic our cultured doubts, when our souls are confronted with this risen Christ! How blessed are those who believe in Christ, and how happy are those who receive Christ into their lives. Please receive our thanks, our praise and our worship, and continue to bless us beyond our deserving, as we examine your Word for us today. Amen.
Last week on Easter day we proclaimed Christ is Risen – he is Risen indeed!! The simple truth at the heart of our faith yet the real challenge is living as a community that believes that whole-heartedly. If we are to live into the resurrection; to be the ‘living sacrifices’ – a phrase we all proclaim at the end of the liturgy each and every Sunday; if we are to be faithful in being the answer to this hurting and doubting world as to whether Jesus lives today – how are we to do it? This Easter season in the church, from last Sunday until Pentecost Sunday in late May; this season is all about the resurrection, and our Scriptures help us as we undertake and continue on the journey of living as resurrection people.
This week we find ourselves in John’s story on the very evening of the resurrection. It is a well-known passage which has the exchange between the disciples, Thomas and Jesus and it’s where we get the phrase ‘doubting Thomas’ because of his need to see the risen Jesus, wounds and all, before he is able to finally believe. I have a hunch that many in our society and maybe many of us find ourselves in Thomas’ shoes – for whatever reason needing to SEE Jesus before we give ourselves to follow Jesus. And that places the emphasis back on us today because we are the living members of Christ’s body; we are the way others SEE Jesus; it is what we do and how we act and in what we say that others SEE Jesus. I am reminded of a true story that is more poignant given recent events in this country.
It is about the orange revolution of late 2004 that occurred in the Ukraine, in which people protested the results of a corrupt election. The challenger for the election was Victor Yushchenko. On the night of the election the main TV station was broadcasting the results with the commentator saying that the Yushchenko had been completely defeated. However, in the bottom of the screen was a small box where they had a lady signing what was being said by the commentator. Instead of signing what was actually being said, she signed: "I am addressing everybody who is deaf in the Ukraine. Our president is Victor Yushchenko. Do not trust the results of the central election committee. They are all lies. . . . And I am very ashamed to translate such lies to you. Maybe you will see me again. Her live silent signal helped spread the news, and more and more people began spilling into the streets to contest the vote. Eventually there was a protest of over two million and the election was called null and void. A rerun of the runoff was scheduled for December, and this time, Yushchenko was declared the winner. The revolution had occurred. This story is a metaphor for how we are to act and speak and live as Christians. We don’t control the big screen; the main stories and narratives that dominate society today – that it’s the rich and the beautiful that matter and if you are not either of these you are nothing and of no value. No, we have the small box in the corner saying that it is all lies and that there is a better way.
According to John, Jesus comes among the frightened disciples and SAYS, “Peace be with you.” In Jesus words of peace and in the power of God’s spirit, the disciple’s fears are quenched and they are turned around. They are transformed. ‘Peace be with you’ – simple words yet they bring grace and calm to the situation. Our faith can be expressed in many different ways; in great deeds and actions of sacrifice; in our generosity to those in need; in our prayers for others; in our financial support of our faith community and coming together to celebrate and worship God Sunday by Sunday. Yet, may I suggest that while all of that is good and right and needed; our faith can be lived out and expressed in the simple words we speak – the words we say to each other and the words we say to others demonstrate the living faith that dwells here, deep in our hearts.
We teach our young to say, ‘Please and thank you,’ because these words are the oil of civil social interaction, but do we stop and think about the words of faith that we say. I’m not necessarily speaking about always being evangelists and telling the Gospel story at every opportunity, however, that’s not always a bad idea - What I am saying is that our words have power and that we each in the words we say can be agents of God’s living Spirit bringing others to SEE the living Christ. Have you ever had someone say to you that something you said a while ago or maybe many years ago was the exact thing that person needed to hear at that moment. A word of comfort or a word of truth or a word of grace and peace, easily forgotten by us can be the means of God’s love and transformation for someone else. No, we can’t all do the miraculous feat of faith; the great act of generosity, or live up to the holy Spirit-filled lives of Peter and the Saints, but we ALL can be, by the words we say, and by the words we choose not to say, agents of the living Christ. Start small; start simple; yet start today in being aware of the living Christ in you and in the words you say.
I want to finish this morning with another true story that I think illustrates the whole point of this sermon. It is written by Tom Gordon, from the Iona book, ‘Fire and Bread.’ The class for new communicants had gathered with the minister for their first meeting, and in the small church vestry there was a sense of intimacy and expectation. The faces were familiar: regular worshippers, new attenders, and young people from church families. All six communicants were women. Their ages varied, but they had all, in their own way and for their own purposes, responded to the invitation to come and learn, to make up the year’s group of enquirers. Their journey of sharing and growing would take them to an Act of Commitment on Easter Sunday.
Because not everyone in the group knew each other, the minister began that first meeting with a simple question: ‘Why have you come to join this class?’ It seemed the obvious starting point, and would allow each person to say their piece; it would clarify everyone’s needs for their journey of learning and establish the ground on which the group would travel. Gently, the participants offered their reasons for coming. The replies were predictable: ‘Brought up in the church...’ ‘Been through Sunday school and Bible class...’ ‘Getting married, and needing to think about what a church marriage is about...’ ‘baby to be baptised, and thinking about deeper things...’ ‘Big sister joined the church last year...’ All good stuff, and offered with sincerity; it was, for the minister, familiar and helpful territory.
One young lady was left to offer her response. She had listened intently to the others, and now it was her turn. The minister made it easy for her. ‘Well, Linda – last but not least. Why have you come along?’ There was a pause... Then Linda smiled. With a gentle voice, she offered her story. ‘When I was fourteen,’ she began, ‘my granny died. She was old and frail, and she had been ill for a while. She hadn’t had much of a life since my grandpa died, so it was her time to go. It was the first death I had experienced, and it was all a bit unreal.’
She stopped, and took a deep breath. The room was still, and everyone was already deeply involved with Linda’s story. Then she continued: ‘I went to my granny’s funeral. I didn’t know whether I should or not, but I loved my granny so it was the right thing to do. I didn’t know what to expect really, because I’d never been to a funeral before. And, to be honest, it was pretty dull.
The minister was nice, but he was old and -‘ The group glanced at the minister – far from old – then back to Linda, who was smiling widely. ‘Well, he wasn’t as modern as you!’ she told the minister. Laughter all around...
I don’t remember much about the service, though he did say some nice things about granny. But when the service was over, something weird happened. The minister came to the front row where me and my mum and my brother were sitting, and he shook hands with each of us in turn. And, as he did so, he looked my mother and brother in the eye and he said: ‘God bless you.’ When he came to me, he did the same: ‘God bless you,’ looking right at me. And I looked straight back at him and said: ‘And God bless you too.’ I don’t know why I said that. I don’t really know what it means. But I’ve never been able to get that moment out of my mind.’
You could have heard a pin drop. No one moved. Linda started to cry gently. ‘I don’t know why “God bless you” has come to matter so much. I still don’t know what it means. So I’ve decided it’s time to find out... And that’s why I’m here.’ There were nods. There were smiles of recognition. One of the participants passed Linda a tissue. An older woman by her side took her hand. ‘Aye, hen, you’re right enough. I guess that’s why we’re all here. “God bless you” is for me too. We’ll just have to find out what it means together.’
‘God bless you’ offered to a fourteen-year-old at a time of death, in an unfamiliar setting, in the dullness of worship – perhaps without much thought or self-belief – had started a journey of learning and growing that the young Linda could never have expected. ‘God bless you’ offered in response, even when it wasn’t clear what the words meant, was a signpost on that day that pointed in a new direction. The Lord be with you.