A Sermon from the First Church…. 

A sermon offered by the Rev. Ian F. “Jack” Steeves in the public worship of the First Congregational Church of Scarborough on Sunday, March 30, 2008 (Second Sunday of Easter).  The principal readings were John 20:19-31. 

“‘Put your finger here and see my hands.  Reach out your hand and put it in my side.

Do not doubt but believe.’” (John 20:27). 

“The Need for and the Practice of an Earthy Faith” 
 

Today’s gospel reading points up the need for and the practice of an earthy faith.  Whatever we may say about doubting Thomas, let us also call him honest Thomas.  While everyone else is running around wild with joy and trembling, wonder and awe, at the rising of the Christ, Thomas says, “I want to see the holes.”  Jesus obliges him.  Jesus does not say, “Look at my shiny face and watch me fly.”  He says, “Put your hand in my wounded side.” 

We should acclaim Jesus for that gesture.  Each of us, at some time or other, is a doubting Thomas who hangs our faith on a hank of hair and a piece of bone.   

We want a touchable God, but God must ever be untouchable, otherwise God would be just another one of us.  Our faith is like that: real enough to want to reach out and touch God while keeping God a little beyond our immediate reach.  Humankind can only stand so much of God directly, let’s admit it.  If, however, God is too far away, we quickly forget all about God.  If God gets too close, as God did in Jesus, we kill him.  It appears to be a no-win situation for God. 

We inhabit the planet called Earth.  Earth is the right place for the Christian faith because it was designed that way.  Earth gives us life and, at the same time, propels us toward death.  Earth is too beautiful to despise, yet too dangerous to love above all other things.  Like human love, earth promises more than it can safely deliver.  So, there we seemingly hang, as on a cross, stranded between heaven and earth, tired of living, afraid of dying, bewildered and half-sick, a taste of honey in the mouth and gall in the belly. 

God will never do for us what we can do for ourselves.  God is neither a divine bell hop nor a celestial, rescue service.  God will not find bread for the hungry or homes for the homeless or balance the church budget, and pay its bills.  All that, and more, is our job.  We must not push off on to God the responsibilities that are and will always remain ours.  What we should pray for are the strength and the love and the faith to do these things and to do them well and quickly.  Any other prayer may well be a great escape. 

God encourages us to step out into the unknown, called the Future.  God wants us to try.  God wants us to learn from our mistakes.  God will let us, for our own sakes, enter dark corners, fumble, tumble, and get our hands and faces dirty.  That is one of the ways we find God already there waiting for us.  The worst thing is to stop seeking God. 

The function of faith is to support us in our earthly existence, to make sense of life on this planet, to organize its complexity without losing any of the pieces, or any of us in the endeavor.  The greatest temptation to earthy faith and life is to settle for the “quick fix.”  When life gets hairy and the world spins a little too fast and our faith quivers and grows weak, then out of our doubt screams the command, “Simplify!” 

Simplify!  No matter what beautiful things are sacrificed, no matter how our humanity is impoverished, no matter how life is diminished, just give us something simple to cling to – oh, a slogan will do, a half-baked truth is acceptable, or even a tyrant is to be called into office.  History is filled with such simplicity. 

So it is that some “expert” is always sending us off to a mountain-top or to a desert floor, telling us that the future is in oil or in plastics or in telecommunications, revealing that salvation is in a daily mantra or an organic diet or rhythmic breathing.  The temptation to reduce the flavorful fat of life to its bare bones is near universal. 

At the risk of being too simple, let me say that there appears to be only two ways for God and people to get together.  Either we all go up to God, or God comes down to us.  For better or worse, God long ago chose to grace our earth with the divine presence.  God put us here, God in Christ came to us here, and God still expects to meet us here.  A faith that puts or keeps God too distant is a disaster in the making – like an absentee landlord who lives too far from his tenants. 

When we accept both the faith and the doubt sides of believing, we enter into a relationship with Christ.  It frees us from anxiety about our doubts and any over eagerness to solve all problems with a simple miracle or two.  Those things do play a role in our growth, to be sure.  They are milestones on our faith journey, rounding out the mystery of Christ in our lives.