3 Easter, Year A 2020

Grace Episcopal Church, Galveston

1st Lesson: 1 Peter 1:3-9

2nd Lesson: John 20:19-31

April 19, 2020

 Our readings from The First Letter of Peter and the Gospel According to John are paired in our lectionary because they share the theme of “believing without seeing.” The speaker in our first lesson is an elder who may have witnessed Jesus directly, but he addresses those who love Jesus even though they have never seen him. John’s Gospel gives us the story of Thomas who refused to believe the other apostles when they told him of the resurrected Jesus. Later, Thomas affirms his faith when he sees the risen Lord. But Jesus goes on to say, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” 

Faith means to trust, but how is it that we are able to trust in something that we have never seen with our own eyes. I know that the sun will come up tomorrow. It jibes with what I’ve learned about the rotation on the earth, and we’ve all seen it happen over and over. But, knowledge is not the same thing as trust. To trust means to make a leap of faith, to bet your life, so to speak, on something or someone. Trust is different from knowledge. Trust involves risk and exposure in a way that knowing does not. You can trust that someone you love will love you back; you can trust that a loved one will do their best to take care of you should you become ill. But, betting on the love of another person is not an absolute science; we are never certain when it comes to people. When we are talking about other human beings, there is always some mystery. To count on another person involves trust; there is no other way.

At the center of Christianity is the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. The Church is made up of people who trust that nothing can separate us from God’s love. Death was not the end of Jesus; God raised him to a never-before-seen kind of life, a resurrection life promised to all who believe. The Church is not, at its core, a social service agency, or a self-help organization, or a social club, or a champion for moral education and virtue, or a beloved building, although it might look like any of these from a superficial perspective. The Easter Season is a time to reaffirm what the Church is at its core: we are a community in which trust in the risen Lord is grown, nurtured, and shared beyond itself.

So how are we supposed to trust in the risen Lord if we have never seen him? The answer we have from scripture is that faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God. For example, John’s Gospel tells us that the stories of Jesus were written so that later generations would come to have faith by reading them. Like the Spirit, faith can be compared to the wind. It is invisible; we feel its effects but can’t tell exactly where it comes from. Faith is a gift, it comes to us from beyond us. Our part is to open our hearts when faith comes knocking. Perhaps, reading scripture is what helps us become more open.

The elder of the church who is speaking in 1st Peter acknowledges that the faithful have suffered various trials. The 2nd Century Christians in Asia Minor to whom this letter is addressed may once have enjoyed participating in the social and cultural life of their communities. Now, after their conversion to Jesus, they were viewed with suspicion by the government and marginalized by society. The faithful are reminded that just as gold is refined by fire, so is faith made stronger by adversity. The elder writes to keep them focused on the goal, the coming time when Jesus will be seen again and fire-tested faith will redound to a new life that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading.

Compared to lots of other times, this one in which we live feels like a time of trial. We face so many challenges centered around the novel coronavirus, what we must do to protect ourselves and others, and the effects of the ensuing economic fallout.

During Zoom fellowship last week, some parishioners remembered a time when people were confronted with a different dreaded virus called Polio. There was a message of hope that if we got through to the other side of that one, we can get through this one too. There is reason to be hopeful now as the curve flattens in some of the hot spots, and the case count continues to be relatively low on Galveston Island. There is reason to be hopeful as testing in our area appears to be more and more accessible.

Can we envision how life will be different on the other side of this pandemic? As a society perhaps we will have an even greater appreciation for those who put themselves at risk on the front lines with infected persons: doctors, nurses, and first responders. But will we also better appreciate the many others who risked exposure for the greater good: the people who worked the aisles at the grocery stores, the ones who collected the trash and handled recycling, the ones who delivered packages and drove buses, and the people who worked in nursing homes, among others. Perhaps, we will as a society value these essential roles enough to advocate a living wage for them as well as for their access to quality healthcare.

We are in a time of trial. Like the fire that refines gold, adversity can change lives. We can emerge with a stronger sense that every day is a gift to be enjoyed, and a greater appreciation of how communities can work together for the greater good. And because, through times of trial, we lean more on our faith to get us through each day, let’s pray that our trust in Jesus will have grown stronger and more resilient as well. AMEN.