Easter 2B – 2006, Acts 3:12a, 13-15, 17-26, Psalm 118:19-24, 1 John 5:1-6, John 20:19-31 April 23, 2006 The Rev. J. Brian Ponder Church of the Resurrection Starkville, Mississippi In the Name of the Risen One, Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen. Our friend Thomas … Thomas the doubter … Thomas the questioner … Thomas the inquisitive one … Thomas who wouldn’t be spoon fed … Thomas, who wanted to see with his own eyes … Thomas, perhaps the first Episcopalian … Thomas, confessor of the faith … Maybe it’s no coincidence that this is the second year in a row I’ve preached on Thomas …  I like Thomas. I can relate to him, but I think history’s given him a bad rap. … I’m not going to refer to him as Doubting Thomas. … Why don’t we call this story—at least today—the Faith of Thomas? … The Faith of Thomas … Faithful Thomas. Today we get a glimpse into the state of things immediately following the death and resurrection of Christ. The disciples are hidden away, locked in a room so that they may not be found. They’re huddled for shelter. They’re scared for their lives. They’re in fear of what’s to happen next.  They don’t know where to go. They’re afraid of being found out. They’re not going anywhere. … It’s only been a few days since Jesus’ capture, trial and execution, and they’re on-the-low, I imagine trying to figure out anything and everything about what’s ahead of and for them. … It reminds me of the stories of Jews hiding as the Nazis swarmed across Europe. … It puts into poignant perspective the story I heard on the evening news this Holy Saturday about Christians in Iraq who, fearing for their lives, would attend the Easter Vigil at 5:00 in the afternoon so that they might be back home, safely locked away before sunset, when until three years ago, they attended the midnight services and enjoyed ice cream on a leisurely walk home from their churches at 2 or 3 in the morning, celebrating in ways both big and small the breaking of the Lenten fast. These were scary times. Here they are, the disciples, all tucked away in safety … all but Thomas, that is.  Where was he? What was he doing outside? What was so pressing that he missed this resurrection appearance of Jesus? … “Peace be with you.” … Even in the appearance of the resurrected Lord and Savior, there was something that held back the disciples, something that had taken hold of them and made the words of Christ, at least in part, empty or not fully believable.  “Peace be with you.” … Yeah, right! They were terrified. They were fearing for their lives. They were stuck! And they just couldn’t get on with things, whether it was because they were wallowing in their own pity, or they just couldn’t get motivated, or they thought maybe someone else should do it—“Been there, done it,” “My time’s up” and “I’ve paid my dues,” “It’s all too risky,” or maybe they were just spent, tired, needing refreshment. … Maybe they just couldn’t comprehend that “these mortal shells,” that they, were what was left, that they would have to be enough for the journey ahead, that they were what remained—the only ones who could do it, that they were “it” from now on—in the carrying out of Christ’s mission in this world. … Something had them so “trapped” in that upstairs room, so convinced that they should remain there, that their creativities, their energies, their “spark” was being snuffed, and they were giving into listlessness, or comfort in a compromised way of being, or something that perhaps might only be comprehended or understood by someone (someones) in that situation. … Maybe. But again, there’s Thomas.  Something, it would seem, had called him from that room—perhaps the hunt for food, maybe scouting out a secondary hiding spot, or finding out what was the word on the street, or possibly just seeking some fresh air, allowing room to experience a new day … who knows? But, something, something has called him from safety—from hiding, from being in numbers, from compromise, from acquiescence, from giving in. … Faithful Thomas, Seeking Thomas. Today we celebrate youth Sunday. Today’s the day when we acknowledge the youth of this parish, giving thanks for just what they offer among our numbers, recognizing the roles they have in the life of this place and as representatives of Christ in this world, and renewing our commitment to them—not resting in a hopefulness that they will be the future of the Church, but, if we can, transforming that understanding into a profession, a conviction, a belief, that they are the present of the Church … something that means a whole lot  more now, in this moment … because what we do today for them and with them will determine whether or not they are, in fact, the future of the Church—whether it be this one, or another Episcopal parish somewhere else down the road, or another Christian denomination they meet halfway on with a beloved spouse, or any Church at all. They are the Church, just as we adults are the Church. Together we are Church. … This is a realization that surely had to have begun to sink in at the risen Christ’s second encounter with the disciples in that locked room … that they, that we are the Church… that they were what’s was left, that they were the present, and what they would do would determine the future. … This is our same story.  And the gift that Thomas offered them was that he wasn’t there the first time, that he returned to the scene a little late, a little perplexed, a little dumbfounded, but full of intrigue and inquiry. Thomas allows for the second appearance of Jesus in that room, even amid his own questioning, even amid his doubts … and thank God for him!  Because of Thomas—his wanting to believe—Jesus goes above and beyond, risking human touch in that in-between state in which he had denied Mary Magdalene’s touch from another account.  Because of Thomas, Jesus visits again—while they’re still confounded, locked away in that room. Because of Thomas, we receive one of the most simple, yet most profound professions of faith … “My Lord and my God!”  Because of Thomas, Jesus leaves a lasting peace … the same peace uttered twice before in the same space, but I can’t help but think that it’s in this moment that they actually start to get it, that the disciples are really empowered to live into that which Jesus has charged them, called them in the first encounter the week before … a peacefulness that would move them, transform them, redefine and refine them for the world. We, too, are offered such peacefulness. It’s the peace that is the hope of the resurrection. It’s a peace that connects us especially to one another but also to the world at-large. It’s a peace that comforts the soul, but one that shakes us, or at least it should, to the very core of our being … to move us out of safety, to move us beyond beliefs of inadequacy, to ground us in a realization that we’re called to this world through the Church, and it thrusts us into the work we have been given to do … as prophets, apostles, pastors, evangelists, teachers, servant ministers … everyone a leader by right of baptism, everyone charged with the equipping of the saints for the works of ministry—young and old—and building up the Body of Christ yesterday, today and tomorrow. … Each has a responsibility to all. All have a part to play, and though the charge leads us to different ways of exercising our ministries, the call of Christ is one from which we as “Church” must never resist or retire or retreat. … “As the Father has sent me, so I send you,” Jesus says … into the world, into the workplace or the classroom, or lab, or Sunday school room, or mission field, or the home. … And this is a responsibility we share both amongst ourselves and to the world. Today we indeed celebrate our youth. We celebrate those who serve among us as acolytes and ushers, oblation bearers and children’s choristers, lectors and greeters, fellow pilgrims—equals—on the journey. And, we celebrate and honor those in particular who are bringing them up in the faith through formation and education. Our children and youth are some of our most vulnerable members. They are some of the ones to which we have the greatest responsibility. Yet they are also some of those among us, who have the most to share. What will we do to facilitate their journey in Christ—and each other’s—kindling that spark, rather than locking away our talents, our creativities, our insights and our personal and corporate journeys of faith?  We are all children in the faith. We’ve all been offered the life-giving breath of Jesus’ Spirit working over us and through us. This is a gifted responsibility to which we’ve all been commissioned through Christ’s peace, that same peace that activates us, motivates us, moves us—if we’ll let it.  Will we let it? … There’s a lot riding on it … opportunity for a new day, a new surety, a new way of being … unless, that is, we lock it away … and stay put … and muddled in our own disbelief. Paraphrase of Ephesians 4:11-13.