April 11, 2021

April 11, 2021, “The Church of Christ” Acts 4: 32-35, Psalm 133, 1 John 1:1 – 2:2, John 20: 19-31 Friends in Christ… In the Scripture readings we have heard this morning, we have been given a beautiful, ideal picture of the Church; of the community that takes shape when the friends of Christ gather to worship and to support one another: We heard the beautiful and poetic words of the author of Psalm 133 as they reflected: 1 How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity! 2 It is like the precious oil on the head, running down upon the beard, on the beard of Aaron, running down over the collar of his robes. 3 It is like the dew of Hermon, which falls on the mountains of Zion. For there the LORD ordained his blessing, life forevermore. We heard also, in words more matter-of-fact but no less inspiring the words of Luke as he described the church in the Book of Acts: 32 Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. 33 With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. 34 There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. 35 They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need. That is a beautiful, Kingdom-shaped vision of the Church of Christ, and one that I pray you have or will glimpse for yourself if you have not already. Finally, before we dig into our Gospel text today, we heard in the First Epistle of John, the “declaration,” the “assurance”, that what has taken place at Easter, that what has been revealed by Father, Son, and Holy Spirit makes those of us who follow Jesus Christ different (different from our neighbours, perhaps, but much more importantly different from our former selves) That having heard the testimony of the witnesses of Christ, we are now free to live into joy and to have that joy made complete. And that Christ, who is light, allows us (who are still in darkness) to walk in His light, to confess our sins, and to have fellowship with one another. Being assured that even when we do sin, when we do fall short of the glory of God, as we all will, and we all shall, we (as individuals and a church) have an advocate in heaven. Poetic, ideal, imperfect, and confessional, this is the Church of Christ. This week, I had the wonderful opportunity to bring greetings from our church of St. Andrew’s and to share a Gospel word with my old seminary and church community, St. Andrew’s Hall in Vancouver. Ever the economical student, the message I gave was very similar to the Easter message that you heard last Sunday (or if not, that is still available on the website); similar, but with a greater focus and encouragement for these students to live into the church, to get to know the church, to get to love the church, even to be frustrated by the church, because these experiences (for as great as their professors are) cannot be duplicated in the classroom. You see, when I first because a student at St. Andrew’s Hall, in the months after I packed up my Ford station wagon in Lethbridge and headed for Vancouver, I was not a model student in getting involved in the church. I was a strong student: I could read the material I could write papers I could hold my own in class discussions But as for the things we have heard about the church… As for the “kindred living together in unity…” As for “being of one heart and one soul…” As for “committing to live together in Christ’s light…” I was anything but strong, anything but convinced. To me, in those early days of seminary, God was still great, Christ was still Lord, the Holy Spirit was still Advocate, but the church - the church was messy, the church was stressful, the church was broken. For myself, in my first year of seminary, and at the (now it seems) comically young age of 26, it wasn’t that I had personally been burnt by the church, it wasn’t that I had personally had something bad happen to me in the church, or that I had personally been injured by the church, for me this trepidation, this unwillingness to get involved was second hand, it was mostly fear of the unknown. So it is for many, so it was at the beginning, and so it was (I believe) for Thomas in this morning’s Gospel reading. At the beginning of this morning’s story from the Gospel of John, Jesus disciples were gathered (or perhaps a better word is “huddled” from their persecutors) when Jesus appeared among them. “Peace be with you.” He said. After this, John tells us: He showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” This moment… This moment when Jesus breathed the Holy Spirit upon the disciples is—in reality—the beginning of the Church of Christ. Even though there were “Friends of Christ” (“disciples”) before this moment Even though Christ was with them in life and in life after death Even though there was prayer, and worship, and communion prior to this point This moment of the disciples receiving the Holy Spirit is really the beginning, the genesis of the Church of Christ. Or to describe this from the other perspective, without the Holy Spirit of Christ, there is not (truly) the church of Christ. The church of Christ is (rightly) Christ together with His people, in the unity of the Holy Spirit. Well, why does this matter? Why does it matter that we are reading about the “very beginning” of the Christian church? It is important because of what immediately follows from John: “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.” If Christ’s breathing the Holy Spirit upon the disciples is the genesis of the Christian church, this exchange between the disciples and their brother Thomas is their first conversation. So what is the content, the outcome of the very first church conversation? ‘I don’t believe you.’ ‘I don’t believe you.’ ‘I know that you guys are my brothers, my very closest friends, we’ve been through a lot together, we’ve just mourned the loss of our Lord together, but I don’t believe you…’ …Thanks be to God that this is the one and only time “distrust” has shown its face in the church… (kidding of course) Thomas did not believe the things that had taken place! Even though there were 10 of them and 1 of him; even though they were so earnest and forthright in their telling of the story; even though they pleaded with him to believe; He didn’t believe them. And (to lend Thomas as much benefit-of-the-doubt as we can) why should he? Why should he believe them? The church (or to him, still the pre-church community) is undergoing all kinds of persecution, the enemies of Jesus are after them, their master is dead, having died horribly by crucifixion, they have no money, safety, no security for the future. Thomas has just been out of their hiding place, perhaps gathering what meager supplies and food he can, and when he gets back he finds out that his “so called” friends have spent the time planning this cruel joke on him. Thomas is simply trying to make the best of a horrible situation and his friends are telling him to believe the impossible. Sounds like the church doesn’t it? Or, if not this church, right now, a church you have experienced or heard about in the past. One person (seemingly) doing all of the work. A group in heated disagreement with that person. A voice in the back of the room crying out “just have faith!”… that no one seems to hear. If this picture of the church, given to us by John in his gospel this morning, calls you to pull back, to “cringe,” it probably should. Like one of those dated family pictures where everyone is confidently wearing clothes that are now beyond “out of fashion” we can’t help but feel the sting. The fact that each of us still has those bell-bottoms, and sequence turtle necks, and florescent windbreakers in our closets doesn’t matter, we will never admit that out loud. So it is with the church - we have been to those awkward meetings; we have been that self-righteous martyr; we have been the voice in the back of the room; and we have been the pair of rolling eyes beside them, either recently or long ago. It stings, but it’s true. Even if we will never admit it out loud. What happened to the church we started with this morning? Where is the “precious oil running down the beard”? Where is the “one heart and one soul”? Where is the goodness of walking as one in the “light of Christ”? And why has Thomas spoiled our idyllic vision of the church? Of all of the ugliest words that can be uttered, within the church and without, the ugliest is perhaps “ultimatum”. Any time we hear the world “ultimatum” in the church something has gone well and truly off the rails. “Unless you do a, b, and c, I’m leaving!” “Unless you say this to that person, I’m quitting the committee!” “Unless so and so apologizes, you won’t see me again!” Like I say, “ugly.” But did you notice, that when Thomas doubted the other disciples, his response was also an ultimatum? “Unless I see the mark of the nails in [Jesus’] hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.” At the time he uttered these words, they must have seemed (to the disciples) like the worst kind of ultimatum: one they had no control over. How could they make Jesus appear again? How could they compel Jesus to allow Thomas to touch his wounds? Thomas might as well have asked them to make the wind stop blowing, there was nothing they could do. And yet it does. Knowing about Thomas’ doubt, knowing about the discord it was causing in the very young church, what does Jesus do? He appears again. A week later (John says) 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.” Friends, other than praying that it might be so, there was nothing the disciples could do to satisfy Thomas’ doubt. They could not convince him any more than they had tried. They could not force Jesus to come. They could not have satisfied his ultimatum. Yet, because Christ is good and because Christ is gracious, given the choice between this doubt driving a wedge in His church and they being one in faith, Christ showed up to satisfy Thomas. There is so much poetic beauty, so much matter-of-fact truth, so much confession and assurance in this story about the church that it is hard to describe. Sometimes, we in the church disagree with one another. Sometimes there is an odd-one-out who remains the odd-one-out. Sometimes there is seemingly nothing the people of Christ can do to reconcile their brother or their sister. Sometimes the ultimatum remains unsatisfied. And yet, even then, Christ is still present in His church. The good news this morning is that even when things seem impossible, even when we cannot fix the community or the situation on our own, even when we find it impossible to believe that we can come back and be part of a community in Christ’s name, Christ does not give up; even on our strongest doubts. If that seems obvious to you, then perhaps the Holy Spirit has meant it for someone else. At one point, this message was for me. When I was student in Vancouver, those years ago, I wasn’t burnt by the church and afraid to come back, I was afraid to get started. Having heard horror stories and testimonies of people hurt by their church, I was afraid to find my own church. So it continued all through my first year and most of my second. Until, the summer after my second year, I found myself, once again in my overstuffed Ford station wagon, headed for my first summer ministry in the Peace Region of British Columbia. That summer, for those four months, I provided pulpit supply and pastoral care to Fort St. John Presbyterian Church and St. James Presbyterian Church in Dawson Creek, and by the end of those four months, I was so hopelessly in love with Christ’s church that I cried when I had to go back to seminary. And I am just as madly in love with it here. Friends, if you are on the fence about church, if you are on the fence about coming, or about coming back, or even if coming to the church is the very last thing you want to do in the world. You are not alone. The church is an imperfect place, made up of imperfect people, trying to serve a perfect and Holy God. However, the Good News, for it, and for you, is the same: Christ is with us, and He will stop at nothing to make us one. Amen.