Forgiveness Forward

Sermon

“Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

Friends, those “who have not seen” is all of us. “All who have not seen” covers everyone since the time of Jesus. And “believing” is not about intellectual assent to a particular Christian doctrine but about what we give our hearts to. It’s recognizing God with us and moving forward in loving relationship with God and with others. How DO we come to recognize God? How are we sent out in peace to forgive?

I have been enjoying quality time with my mom and dad, Sandra and Tracey. They just moved to Portland last month. Being with them brings back many childhood memories. Like the time when I was about fifteen and our family lived in a tri-level parsonage in Erwin, Tennessee. Mom and Dad were out for the evening, and a storm took out power. There were creaking trees in the front yard and no phone service. Wearing my red-and-white candy-striped footie pajamas, with a facial mask tightening (I had applied it before the power went out), I felt brave and self-reliant as I found a large pillar candle and matches for lighting my way in the creepy house. I decided to go downstairs to wait for them in the living room. Silently, holding the candle, I glided like a ghost to the foot of the stairs and turned around. There, standing about two feet away was a pale-faced ghost, holding a glowing light. I yelped and jumped about a foot high. Then I realized that I was looking into the full-length mirror but hadn’t recognized myself. The ghost was me—but unrecognizable in the dim light and in a fog of fear.

The passage today begins with fear and lack of recognition. As in other passages of the Gospel of John, when the disciples encounter Jesus, post-resurrection, they do not recognize him. Resurrection life is not about “when we go back” to some cherished time before, but it is moving forward into something new. And sometimes we don’t recognize Jesus or ourselves.

At Westminster, we’ve had a worship task force working hard to prepare us to be able to worship in person, safely, soon (we hope). But will we even recognize worship, with no singing, no passing of the peace, sitting six feet away from others, and our faces half-covered with masks? Will we recognize our community minus loved ones who’ve died over the past 13 months? For that matter, do we recognize our friends even now? With smiles covered and COVID hairstyles and beards transforming the familiar faces, it’s unsettling.

How do we recognize ourselves as a nation, with 2020 being a year in which hate crimes toward Asian Americans increased nearly 150%? Watching some states pass restrictive voting legislation, echoing the Jim Crow days, we can’t recognize ourselves.

Today’s passage has been dubbed “Doubting Thomas.” Many a sermon has been preached as a rebuke to people’s doubt in their faith. But the more emphasis that is put upon using this scripture to make someone conform to doctrine, the further we drift from truth that belief is about our relationship to God and to each other. Forgiveness is honesty and living relationship forward. This story is about the power of not being confined to what has been but joyfully experiencing truth, trust, and love that moves us

forward. That requires our open hearts. Maybe we should not ask, “How could a thing like resurrection happen?” But rather, “Why don’t we look more resurrected?”

In his book Resurrection, Anglican Archbishop Rowan Williams wrote about the church: A believing community is that which trusts God and itself enough to live in honesty and acceptance.

How do we recognize Westminster in the wake of pandemic losses? Well, by looking honestly and with acceptance at the scars. And by putting our hands in the marks of wounds.

Resurrected life together makes our community a place where honesty, truth, and acceptance shatters all barriers. Our limits on race, class, gender, and politics fall away as we realize that “forgiveness of the sins of others” is a way of saying that we are moving forward in truth and mercy, realizing that God is in one another. Forgiveness offers a world of potential friends rather than a world of enemies.

Resurrection is more than thinking new thoughts or feeling new feelings. It’s about opening our lives to others. Not to be overcome with guilt but to acknowledge that the problems we face aren’t someone else’s to solve, but ours. It is my door and my heart upon which people are knocking for attention. What I would do for my own family and friends, I will do for others.

Resurrection is the way God turns a prejudiced world around, one heart at a time. “My Lord, and my God!”

Where have you been surprised to see Jesus? Where might we meet the risen Christ?

Poet William Stafford wrote “Easter Morning” and I will close with his words:

Maybe someone comes to the door and says,
“Repent!” and you say “Come on in,” and it’s
Jesus. That’s when all you ever did, or said,
or even thought, suddenly wakes up again and
sings out “I’m still here,” And you know it’s true.
You just shiver alive, and are left standing
there, suddenly brought to account: saved.
Except, maybe that someone says, “I have a deal
for you.” And you listen, because that is how
you’re trained—they told you, “Always hear both sides.”
So, then the slick voice can sell you anything, even
Hell, which is what you’re getting by listening.
Well, what should you do? I’d say always go to
the door, but keep the screen locked. Then,
while you hold the Bible in one hand, lean forward
and say carefully, “Jesus?”