The Easter Encore--April 10, 2024

The Easter Encore--April 10, 2024

But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he 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.” A 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.” Then 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.” [John 20:24-27]

I'm still thinking about the eclipse as I write today, and it's funny--as much as I will hold the memory and the mental picture of what it looked like to see the blaring light of the sun be reduced to a hint of a ring around the darkened moon, it was still only just a few minutes before it was gone.  My photos didn't turn out great, even though we were in "totality," and it was all over in just over two minutes here.  And they say we won't have another total eclipse over these Ohioan skies until 2099, when I do not anticipate being around to see it.  For now, the memory is clear, but in time, even that will fade, and the image of this awe-inspiring experience will vanish from my consciousness.  And of course, I consider myself lucky to have seen it at all--a great deal of the country wasn't in the path of the eclipse at all, or weren't able to get to a place to see it.  That's just the way of things. I cannot call the moment back, and the lived experience of this wondrous thing cannot be repeated for me, just because I wish it, or for someone else who didn't have the chance or lives in the wrong place.

I think of that today, hearing again the story of Jesus appearing to Thomas and the other fearful disciples, because Jesus emphatically does repeat his appearance for those who need him, and he does show up again for Thomas, simply because Tommy wasn't there the previous Sunday.  The presence of the risen Jesus--behind locked doors, no less!--is nothing short of miraculous, and yet Jesus offers his presence twice in one week in a repeat showing, like it is a routine visit.  You know what they say about how lightning never strikes the same place twice, and yet here we have the supernatural presence of the risen Jesus, defying explanation and all probability, simply for the sake of the ones who are despairing and confused about his death.  Jesus keeps showing up, simply because we need him.

And as much as I might wish for the ability to reproduce an awesome sight like Monday's eclipse with a snap of my finger, what I know I most deeply need is for the presence of the risen Jesus to meet me when my faith is crumbling, when my despair is winning out, and when my head and heart are off course.  And after Jesus' presence gets me pointed in the right direction again and I get lost all over again, I need his patience with me to come back and reorient me... again.  A spectacle in the sky is cool and all, but it's unrepeatable in my lifetime.  The gift of the resurrection for me is that Jesus doesn't just put on a show of rolling stones at the empty tomb on Easter morning and then vanish in a puff of pastel-colored smoke--he keeps showing up for the ones who need him, even when it means bearing with the resurgence of their doubt and the return of their fear.

It's worth noting, after all, that when Jesus comes back to show his wounds to Thomas, a week after that first Easter evening, the other disciples are back in the same room, recaptured by their fear and anxiety.  Jesus appears for all of their sake, rather than saying with a sigh and an eye roll, "I've already shown up for you once. Didn't we go over this already?" He knows that Thomas missed out, and he knows that the rest of the disciples have fallen back into the grip of fear.  So he appears to all of them, because they all need it.

To be honest, I think this is why we keep coming back Sunday by Sunday to worship.  We don't just hand out a one-time reading assignment or mail pamphlets to everyone and say, "Once you've read this, you've got all you need to know--see you in heaven!" We keep getting battered by fears, beset by troubles, and overwhelmed by despair in life, and we keep needing Jesus to show up again for us and start over with us.  We need more than just the once-in-a-lifetime awe of an astronomical show in the sky; we need someone who can keep coming to be with us and putting us back together when our world is falling apart. We keep coming back to worship week by week because we keep finding Jesus here--or rather, he keeps finding us here, inside the closed doors of the sanctuary--and he speaks the peace we've been longing for.

So while I am a little sad to think that some future version of me will have forgotten the image of The Total Eclipse of 2024, I am more grateful that every future version of me will have the confidence of knowing Jesus can keep showing up when and where I need him, repeating the resurrection wonder and giving an encore of Easter not just on a Sunday each spring, but every time I need him.  And he keeps showing up for you, too.

May our eyes be ready to see him among us.

Lord Jesus, keep being patient with us and being present with us when we need you.  We need you still.