Acts 2. 14a, 22 – 32

John 20. 19 – 31

Fr Alex

 

In his Easter sermon last week, Fr Kenneth pointed us to a beautiful truth of our life as Easter Christians: that with every death there is the possibility of resurrection.

And not just the death at the end of our lives, but all the little deaths that we go through in life, that characterise human experience – whether it’s things like moving house, children leaving home, any situation that uproots us or causes us distress.  Every time we need to leave something behind, we are enabled to look beyond the death to the possibilities of a new experience.

The resurrection renews our whole experience of life, now.  With every death there can be a resurrection.

And of course, last week, we saw this in action in the most intimate and moving way, in the garden.  The risen Jesus calls Mary by her name, and she sees that it is her saviour and her friend.  Everything that he said was true: he has triumphed over death.

It puts me in mind of the opening chapters of Genesis.  When Adam and Eve in the first creation heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden.

Mary is in a garden, and she even thinks Jesus is the gardener.  But whereas the encounter in that first creation led to Adam and Eve’s downfall, Mary’s encounter with the risen Christ heralds a new creation.  The renewal of all things, in God’s infinite love and mercy. 

No longer is this an intimate moment between two individuals, but a promise for all of us: because what they share is for us as well, and the whole of creation.

Today we hear of yet another encounter, as Jesus returns to his friends and brings them his peace.  But poor Thomas isn’t there, and can’t believe that it is true.

In a reversal of our expectations, Jesus doesn’t curse Thomas for his lack of belief.  He comes back for him.  He shows him his wounds, he heals his doubt, and makes him whole again.

We may try to believe that God is always with us, that every death can lead to resurrection: but it’s actually quite hard to live that way.  Sometimes a situation can seem so painful or hopeless that we think there can’t possibly be a positive future at the end of it.

But God doesn’t leave us alone to suffer through it.  Just like he came back for Thomas, he will truly always be there for us, if we seek him.  And once again, no longer is this a moment just for Thomas and Christ, but a promise for us too. 

And as we heard on Maundy Thursday, at the Last Supper, he has given us a way to meet with him for all time, and be released from our own doubts and our fears, and made whole once again.

He offers us his very presence in bread and in wine: meeting with us just as intimately, and just as truly, as he met with Mary in the garden, and with Thomas and the disciples in the locked room. 

And each time, we are assured again of his promise that he will be with us.  By receiving his resurrected presence within ourselves we are empowered to see and experience the resurrection that lies at the end of each little death.

This is something the first Christians found to be central to their faith, often through times of great persecution and suffering.  We heard of it in our first reading, from the Book of Acts.

Peter stands up in front of the Israelites and gives his testimony.  He quotes King David who wrote Psalm 16, a celebration of God’s faithfulness.

But Peter interprets these words as from the Messiah’s point of view.  King David has been promised that the Messiah would be one of his descendants, and so David writes this psalm with the promise of the resurrection in mind – even all those centuries before.

In the psalm it is Jesus who is the one who saw the Lord always before him; God was with him at his right hand so that he was not shaken through his trials; God did not abandon him to death, or let his Holy One experience corruption.

By putting these words in the mouth of Jesus, as well as in David’s, this ancient psalm becomes for us a great statement of faith in the promise that resurrection will always follow death.

But it becomes more than that: it speaks of the power of this promise, that it spills out beyond the actual time and place of resurrection, and renews and makes sense of all of our past – as well as all of our future.

Again, this is a promise for us, too, and for all God’s faithful people through the ages, who believe and trust in him.  David’s joy and faith in God is for us to experience too.

So as we come to meet with Christ in the sacrament and receive his very presence within us, let our prayer be for faith to rejoice in his promise of life, that we may truly live as people of the resurrection.

Risen Christ, for whom no door is locked, no entrance barred: open the doors of our hearts; accept our doubts, heal us of our need for certainty, and draw us ever closer to yourself, that we may truly love you and know your love for us; and through that love, may share in your resurrection life.  Amen.