An eclipse happening right now is particularly interesting timing, since just on Good Friday mere days ago, we heard that at the crucifixion of Jesus, there was not only an earthquake, but the sun darkened in the sky. This has led some people to speculate that there was a solar eclipse on the day Jesus died on the cross. But it was just speculation—until modern science has ridden in to provide insight.
Come to find out, in 2012, a group of German scientists looked at historical data of earthquakes as well as the Jewish calendar, and theorized that Jesus was crucified on April 3, 33 CE. However, the problem is that Passover occurs on a full moon, and solar eclipses require a new moon. But then NASA stepped in with a chart of 5000 years of eclipses and where they occurred—and found that a LUNAR eclipse occurred on—get this—April 3, 33 CE over the Holy Land.
Many people get really excited about eclipses. Even though one happens roughly every 18 months, WHERE they are visible shifts all over the globe. The last time we had a big eclipse over the US was in 2018, and we were just a couple of miles from totality. We pulled our son from school and took him to my favorite retreat place to make sure he could see it—and it was amazing. Some people would be satisfied with seeing the event on TV—but that’s not the same thing as experiencing it live and in person. Seeing is believing, as they say.
And that brings me to my yearly defense of poor ol’ apostle Thomas. Hearing about Jesus being risen was not enough for him—just like it’s hard for us to believe it too. Seeing is, after all, believing.
Paul Simon, in a song off his Graceland album of 1986, sagely sang, “Faith is an island in the setting sun; but proof, yes--proof is the bottom line for everyone.” Thomas wants proof. Like we all do.
The author of John knows this, and this story is meant to encourage Christians from John’s time until now: those who have not seen, but take the leap of faith anyway. We live in a time two millennia after these events. Of course we have doubts- we have even more reason than Thomas. We are caught just as much as those disciples were in the thrall of empire where the powerful never have enough power, the wealthy never have enough wealth, the influencers never have enough influence. We are as much held in thrall by emotional as well as economic scarcity is those who lived in Jesus’s time were. If Thomas—and all the other disciples at that time-- can doubt and emerge the stronger for it, so of course can we. Further, given our distance in time and culturally from the events depicted in the gospels, it is only through engaging our faith through questions and doubts that we can seriously engage our faith. Just as a muscle only gets stronger, when stressed, so too our faith.
Sadly for Thomas, this is the only story in which he plays a starring role. And so he gets that “doubting label” attached to his name like it was superglued there and very unfairly, too.
However, there’s a lot going on here besides Thomas demanding proof, and that gets obscured when we fasten just on Thomas and his very understandable reaction. So let’s circle back to the beginning.
While we have loudly proclaiming alleluias all week, our gospel today takes up the story on Easter Sunday evening. The first emotion that is noted right from the very start is “fear--” which is right where the end of Mark’s gospel leaves us at the end of that gospel, as we can hear in the alternative gospel for Easter Sunday in the B years of the lectionary. The doors are locked because the disciples are still afraid of the religious authorities, which John’s gospel troublingly refers to as “the Jews,” even though practically everyone in the story is a Jew as well. It is despite those locked doors that Jesus appears before his fearful followers. In response to this fear, Jesus gives them his peace. Ever since John 14:27, Jesus’s response to fear among his disciples has been to wish them peace. He also links peace to courage at 16:33, as well.
At v. 20, Jesus then shows the disciples his wounds—or more specifically, I believe, his scars. If they were still wounds, Jesus might still be a ghost. For his wounds to become scars indicates that his living body has engaged in the process of healing. This is another important point that gets overlooked by focusing on the “Doubting Thomas” story. Jesus’s risen body will always be the body of the Crucified One. His wounds and scars do not disappear—but now they are a part of who he is, and their presence helps prove his identity. And knowing that those wounds are there are important to us. We all carry the wounds and scars of our lives with us.
Upon seeing Jesus’s wounds, the disciples go from fear to joy, because now they know that this is truly Jesus. It could be that his face is different, but the wounds convince them, and they are filled with joy to know that Jesus has risen. At v. 21-23, Jesus again wishes them peace, and then in the same breath (word choice deliberate) commissions them with the same mission Jesus himself had from God: to go and forgive sins and engage in the reconciliation of the world to God. In an action reminiscent of the creation of Adam in Genesis 2, he breathes upon them the Holy Spirit. Remember, the fact that he has breath also proves that he is truly alive, not a ghost or a spectre or a spirit.
There are people who have been shamed for questioning, for doubting, like that’s a bad thing—just like poor old Thomas there, who gets that damning “Doubting” adjective permanently glued in front of his name forever, even though what he experiences is SO common and relatable, unlike all the apostles except for Judas.
Going back to church for those who have been hurt and marginalized by this kind of Christianity is more like returning to the scene of a crime than getting your spiritual batteries recharged. And those of us who identify ourselves as actively Christian thus are presented with our first chance to ourselves take part in the salvation of Jesus which bring healing and reconciliation. And we don’t even have to do it by glomming onto every stranger that walks through our doors, especially at Easter.
We don’t have to do this work by starting at trying to scare people into belief and by that I mean a bargain with God so that they can avoid “hell.” We do this by defining salvation as a life moving toward healing even for those who feel like they have lost every shred of hope they ever had. We can start by actually SEEING these people the same way that Jesus did—as beloved. Beloved as we all are and not excluded due to some checklist created by fearful people. Beloved even as we all are, even as we find our ways out of various wildernesses like addiction, racism, homophobia, taking advantage of others, or misogyny.
Jesus showed his own scars to his believers after resurrection because our scars are the signs that we all bear of what has shaped us, for good or for ill. We are all known by our scars—and with wat we do with them. Do we use them as excuses to hurt others and leave scars of our own as we pass by? Or do we see them as signs that we have persevered and have healed? After Jesus shows his scars as a sign that the cross did not have the last word with him, Jesus commissions his followers—including you and me, even those of us who have to cross our fingers behind our backs at a lot of the claims made in the Creed to go out and continue his work. Not a transaction, but a transformation.
We can with honesty and hope share our scars with those around us too—share our scars, and the healing grace we have received from God in our own specific lives. That’s a sign we can all see, and a sign that heals the scars we carry all our lives.
We don’t have to do this work by starting at trying to scare people into belief and by that I mean a bargain with God so that they can avoid “hell.” We do this by defining salvation as a life moving toward healing even for those who feel like they have lost every shred of hope they ever had. We can start by actually SEEING these people the same way that Jesus did—as beloved. Beloved as we all are and not excluded due to some checklist created by fearful people. Beloved even as we all are, even as we find our ways out of various wildernesses like addiction, racism, homophobia, taking advantage of others, or misogyny.
Jesus showed his own scars to his believers after resurrection because our scars are the signs that we all bear of what has shaped us, for good or for ill. We are all known by our scars—and with wat we do with them. Do we use them as excuses to hurt others and leave scars of our own as we pass by? Or do we see them as signs that we have persevered and have healed? After Jesus shows his scars as a sign that the cross did not have the last word with him, Jesus commissions his followers—including you and me, even those of us who have to cross our fingers behind our backs at a lot of the claims made in the Creed to go out and continue his work. Not a transaction, but a transformation.
We can with honesty and hope share our scars with those around us too—share our scars, and the healing grace we have received from God in our own specific lives. That’s a sign we can all see, and a sign that heals the scars we carry all our lives.
Readings:
Preached at St. Martin's Episcopal Church on the weekend of April 6-7, 2024.
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