Rev. Cari Pattison

Woodstock Reformed Church

Sunday, April 24, 2022

“He Still Has Scars”

John 20:19-31

19When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jewish authorities, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you." 20After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. 

21Jesus said to them again, "Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you." 22When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, "Receive the Holy Spirit. 23If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained."

24But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. 25So the other disciples told him, "We have seen the Lord." But Thomas said to them, "Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe."

26A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you." 27Then he said to Thomas, "Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe." 28Thomas answered him, "My Lord and my God!" 29Jesus said to him, "Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe."

30Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. 31But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

***

Alright, we’re gonna try a little audience participation here. Ready?

Knock knock-

Nobel-

No bell. That’s why I knocked!

Knock knock-

A little old lady-

I didn’t know you could yodel!

Okay, here are a few biblical ones:

Knock knock-

Delores-

Delores my shepherd, I shall not want…

Knock knock-

Zeke-

Zeke and ye shall find, knock and the door shall be opened to you…

How ‘bout just one more!

Knock knock-

Police-

Police stop telling these awful knock knock jokes!

Ah, it takes me right back to the days of growing up with two brothers, tormenting each other with lame jokes that we all knew the punch-lines to! We even had voices that went with different jokes.

(By the way, there’s plenty more where these came from, so if you want any more later, let me know…)

I start with knock-knock jokes today because our story in John has Jesus making two guest appearances to the disciples-

Strangely, without so much as a knock at the door.

He comes when his friends are huddled together behind a locked door, for fear of the religious authorities-

The same authorities who turned Jesus in to the Roman governor for execution.

Violence hovers thick in the air. Will they be next?

They’re scared.

They’re alone.

They’re confused.

And their leader is dead.

Sure, some women, including Mary, ran back from the tomb to tell them it’s empty or stolen or something like that- claiming they saw some angels who told them some kind of miracle story-

But who would believe them?

So here Jesus skips the knocking- but the disciples still ask, in so many words-

“Who’s there?”

They don’t know it’s him at first.

Does he look different from before?

Or is that sometimes we just can’t recognize, what we’re not expecting to see?

Jesus doesn’t knock, and he doesn’t wait for an invitation.

He knows exactly where to find his old friends.

I imagine the disciples aren’t exactly reassured at first, when they realize who it is.

They’re probably ashamed of how they abandoned Jesus at the cross-

Falling asleep when he was praying in the garden,

Running away when he got arrested,

Denying they ever even knew him.

If this man who’s suddenly come through the door is really Jesus alive again, will he give them a scolding? Reprimand their disloyalty and cowardice? Will he tell them he’s reconsidered their qualities for discipleship and have them replaced?

So many questions. Nervous, unanswered questions. It’s late, it’s dark, and the doors are locked.

What do you keep hidden behind locked doors of fear?

What are you most afraid of?

What if people discover you’re not always the disciple you set out to be?

What if God already knows?

Jesus somehow enters through the locked doors, and we’re not told if it’s magic or miracle, but there he is.

He asks no questions.

He doesn’t judge.

He comes and stands among them, right where they are—frightened and ready to give up- and says, “Peace be with you.”

And then he shows them his hands and side- the marks of the nails, the depths of the wounds.

Only then do his friends know it’s him.

Only then do they rejoice in his resurrection.

It’s those scars. They’re still there.

There’s something about scars.

You learn a lot about people when you ask them about their scars.

I have a scar on my hand from opening an avocado a few years back…

Jesus still has scars.

I need to give credit to your former pastor, Josh Bode for this sermon title…

I think there’s a reason someone photographed that sign.

When someone has scars, we know they’ve been through something. They’ve survived something. Some of you have scars from surgeries, procedures, or cancer treatments.

Some of you have scars from childbirth.

A preaching professor of mine once said, “Preach from your scars, not your wounds.” (Unpack this)

When Jesus shows the disciples his scars, it’s like he’s saying that his cross and resurrection are all of a piece. The pain, the sacrifice, the suffering, and the glory- it’s all right there together, making the risen Jesus who he is.

Not only is it a marker so the disciples can identify him, but it’s like Jesus wants us to see that our scars are a part of the story. We don’t come to the glory of new life in God, without remembering the wounds, the hardships, the heartbreak, the things that almost made us give up.

We trust those who’ve come through the fire. Henri Nouwen calls them “wounded healers,” and isn’t that what Christ calls us to be.

They see the scars, and then Jesus says it again, “Peace be with you.”

Because that’s what they need most.

That’s what we need most.

Jesus offers us the peace that passes all understanding not after we’ve gotten our act together, and faith filled up, and courage regained.

Jesus offers us peace now, while we’re still in debt, while our adult child is still in trouble, while the source of pain still hasn’t been diagnosed, while the marriage is still shaken, while the job search is still stalled.

This is Hebrew-shalom-peace Jesus is talking about. The peace that waters the seeds of our soul and nourishes our spirit with well-being. A peace that comes with feeling good about our decisions, a sense of integration and wholeness in our lives. The peace of being true to ourselves and others, and a feeling of closeness to God.

Not only does Jesus bring this, but he calls the disciples to go and do it, too. To preach the good news, to heal and teach and forgive and love. To be peacemakers in a world crying for justice and compassion.

And before the disciples can protest that this isn’t what they signed up for, especially if it leads to an early and violent death, Jesus breathes the Spirit on them to give them the strength to do it anyway.

So that’s Act 1.

But the next part’s the one we love to hear, year after year, on the Sunday after Easter:

Good old Thomas.

Somehow Thomas missed the party. Apparently he was out shopping or fishing when the Messiah decided to show up for this whole new-life-appearance thing.

He hears the other disciples excitedly retelling the story of the magic entrance and the scars and the peace and the spirit and all of it- “Thomas you’re not gonna believe this- we’ve seen the Lord!”

And he’s like, “Yeah. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

We feel a kinship with Thomas, don’t we?

Maybe you’ve heard about the risen Jesus but you aren’t ready to believe it and touch it and have it change your life.

Maybe you don’t want to be sent out where Jesus would send you.

I used to lead confirmation class students at church through writing a faith statement. And every year there was at least one kid who got through the whole year of classes and field trips and community service and the like, and at the end of it said, “Nah.”

And their mentors and parents would always wring their hands, like “What did we do wrong?”

But I always loved those kids. Because they were paying attention! They were telling the truth. They were weighing it all out, and echoing Thomas’s honest words- “Show me.” I was born in Missouri, the “show me” state, and I get it. Sometimes we need God to show up and make it clear, to hit us over the head with something so compelling we can’t not see the truth of it.

The great psychoanalyst Carl Jung once said, when asked if he believed in God, said, “I don’t believe. I know.”

Jesus wants Thomas, and the rest of them, and us, to know in our bones that the good news is just too good not to be true.

Over the past couple years, some of you have told me what brings you to God, and what brings you to church-

Some of you say there’s something about the music in worship and the beauty of this sanctuary that stirs you.

You smile at how there are people here who ask about you when you’re not here, and call to check in.

Some of you wait all service for those prayers of the people, to hear the name of your loved one who needs prayer the most.

Some of you are here because you want your kids to hear the stories of Jesus, and you want it to make a difference in the world beyond just you and your family.

Some of you have said you come most especially for that first Sunday of the month because there’s something about that bread and juice that’s more than symbol, because you believe the Holy Spirit just might be moving among us, breathing on us.

Kathleen Norris says that so much of belief grows out of practice. Just watering the seeds of faith. Just living with what you don’t know or fully understand, asking the questions, and continuing to come and worship in community.

That’s all Thomas did- he spoke aloud his skepticism, and then came anyway.

That’s what we’re doing, when we do church.

We just come anyway, no matter what we’re hiding from, no matter what we doubt at the moment, no matter what we’re not at peace with in our lives.

Let me tell you about Ruth.

Ruth was a woman in her 70’s, on the oncology floor at Princeton Medical Center when I was interning there as a chaplain.

We talked often, about her grandkids, about her prognosis, about how she was convinced I must be Irish because of my eyes.

She laughed when I told her I didn’t really know my roots, that “my people” were from Kansas.

“Oh you frontier folks,” she’d shake her head, “thinking you just arrived on the prairie from out of nowhere.

We didn’t talk about God much, if at all.

Ruth knew she was getting closer to the end, and finally one day she asked me, “How do you get belief?”

I said I wasn’t sure. But that maybe you could ask for it?

She continued: “I’ve wanted to believe in something, I mean, in God, a real God, my whole life, but I never could. I went to mass once in a while, but just never could do it ‘in here.’ I don’t know why. Not even sure I knew how to try. But I wish so bad I could. You must have an idea. Can’t you bring me a Bible or something?”

The next day I brought Ruth a large-print Bible and tentatively suggested she might try reading a psalm every day.

“One psalm?!” she said. “If I’m not long for this world, I’d better get right to the meat of it, don’t you think?”

So Ruth started in on the psalms and the gospels, and read like her life depended on it.

Every day when I’d drop by, she’d tell me what she was reading.

“I’m still not feeling ‘belief’ though,” she said.

And for the first time, she asked, “Will you pray for me?”

Ruth died at the end of that week. I don’t know if she ever found that elusive belief she was looking for.

I don’t know where she was, spiritually, at the moment of her death.

But I do know this:

Every time someone in the bible expresses doubt, God doesn’t seem to mind.

In fact, God almost seems to like it.

Whenever someone says they’re not sure about Jesus, he just shows up in their lives in a new way. He tells Thomas- “Here. Put your hand in my side. Touch your fingers to the wounds in my palms.”

A sign on the wall at a nearby Catholic retreat center reads:

“Holiness consists in continuing to look, where you think God is not.”

What I wish I could’ve told Ruth, back there in her hospital bed, is this-

The Latin meaning for “believe,” credo, is simply “to give one’s heart to.”

I believe with all my heart, that Ruth’s earnest desire to believe in God, was in fact pleasing to God.

And I like to think that Christ heard her plea, and showed up for her in a special way in those final days, like he did for Thomas.

And I believe she’s found the answers now, better than any she could’ve gotten from her chaplain.

***

Most loving God, we believe. Help our unbelief.