Doubt means Faith -- Talk amongst yourselves . . .

In this week's Gospel passage, poor old Thomas has issues. Not only is he terrified because of Jesus' crucifixion, he has a hard time buying the whole bit about the Resurrection. I have always had a soft spot for Thomas -- because when he doubts the veracity of such a bold proclamation, I think he resonates with all of us on some level. "Oh, yeah, right -- sure . . . risen from the dead. Tell me more about maybe fairies and leprechauns or something . . . ". That's the kind of attitude I think he had, and justifiably so. "Not until I see the NAIL MARKS ON HIS HAND will I believe," he proclaims to the other disciples. And so, Jesus comes again -- and shows him. And Thomas says the most incredible thing when he sees the blessed and torn hands of the Risen Lord: "My Lord and my God!!!"
Jesus never had a problem with doubters. They abounded in his story and they still abound in ours. All of us are doubters at one time or another. To me, doubting simply means you ask questions, and by asking them, are searching ways to process what sometimes means the illogical and the improbable about faith in God through Christ. Thomas was a faithful disciple, and the legend has that he was the one to make it all the way to the subcontinent of India to plant Christian communities there which still exist to this day. Thomas, it could be said, went a long way in doubt -- all the way to faith. And Jesus loved him for it.
Come this Sunday, worship, pray, question -- and doubt if you like. Associate Pastor Brady Waters will be preaching about Thomas and his beautiful encounter with the Lord of Hope and Peace, Jesus Christ. See you in church!
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"See you Ee-tah!"

Many years ago, when my nieces were very young, Ted and I traveled home to Mississippi from Texas for every holiday. The little girls were always so glad to see us and we treasured our time watching them grow up, albeit in spurts from our Texas vantage point. The youngest, Catherine, was about two and barely talking one year when we left on Sunday afternoon to return to Texas after a Valentine's Day visit. She stood at the door of my mother's home, and waved and waved, and shouted, "See you Ee-tah!" Translation: "See you Easter!" I don't quite know how she knew that Easter was the next holiday on the calendar, but she did. And she was, even at that young age, excited about it. She knew we'd be back to love her, give our undivided attention to her and, generally, have a blessed time together. She sensed it and wasn't afraid, in her tiny little voice, to express the joy it would bring, even though there would be a long and painful separation in between. Easter 2011 is just around the corner -- a week from Sunday. We begin our journey through Holy Week this Palm Sunday with a remembrance of Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem, a time of great joy and hope. Then, we continue our worship with a remembrance of his passion, suffering and death, a time of extreme sadness and despair -- recalling the time of long and painful separation in between the great joy of the palms and the great tragedy of the crucifixion. There is no going from joy to joy -- that is not realistic, and it is not life. There is always sadness in between. During this Holy Week, we will claim the sadness, and we will claim the sin. We will claim the tragedy of his innocent suffering, all the while claiming the gift of forgiveness, compassion, joy and hope that IS Easter with great anticipation. I invite you to come and be present this week for worship. Palm Sunday at regular worship times, 8:30; 9:45 and 11; Holy Thursday at 7 pm, as we remember Christ's gift of the Eucharist before his death; Good Friday at 7 pm, for a beautiful Service of Tennebrae. Then, in those blessed words of hope and anticipation from a beautiful small child so long ago, I hope and pray we "See you Ee-tah!" a.

The Lazarus Effect . . .

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought there was an old science fiction movie entitled "The Lazarus Effect." Maybe there is. But when I googled that title, what came up is a book of that same title about some kind of science fiction resurrection on another planet or something. What also came up is an upcoming HBO special set to air at the end of May about the restorative, healing power of free drugs to help combat HIV/AIDS in Africa. It is all about new life, and healing. And, life after death. Such was the story of Lazarus in the 11th chapter of St. John's Gospel. I hope you know the fundamentals of that story because it was this miracle, this sign that Jesus performed that ultimately caused his crucifixion. Jesus had three good friends, siblings Mary, Martha and Lazarus. They were close to him and he to them. Jesus was away from their home in Bethany on one of his ministerial excursions, and for some reason Lazarus died. We don't know why. Word reached Jesus of the death of his friend, and for some reason, Jesus did not immediately cancel his plans and return to the side of Mary and Martha. He delayed. So, Lazarus was buried in a tomb and was there -- three whole days. Good and dead, to be sure. Finally, Jesus did go to the sisters and both chided him about not coming sooner. They had suffered a terrible loss and they needed their friend. They NEEDED his support in their grief. They NEEDED his power, his ministry, his care. He finds his way through their grief and the public grieving of all their friends and neighbors and goes to the tomb. First, he prays, asking God's help and promising to give glory to God. Then, he calls Lazarus forth from the tomb into new, resurrected life. The religious authorities were completely flumoxed -- and vowed then and there not only to kill Jesus, but also Lazarus, the living evidence of life in Christ. This passage is loaded with God-talk. It is filled with any number of theological issues on which we can hang our Christian hat. Most remarkably, and obviously, it is surely a foretelling of Jesus' own resurrection which is just down the road. But it also makes us thing about who we are in relation to Jesus and new life. Perhaps, it is his invitation to die to what is killing us -- sin, selfishness, anger, unforgiveness, lack of compassion for others, avarice, greed . . . well, the list goes on. Perhaps, in this invitation to die, we can fully claim the charge to rise again in him, and live life abundantly with and it him. Death is never easy. It always causes grief for those affected by such loss. It is the same for death to sin, selfishness, all of the above . . . we may grieve for those ways, for that way of being. What is lost may seem a lot easier that living freely into new life. In this story, we are given not only the promise of new life, but the way TO that life, the man who is Christ himself. So, it begs the question: Are we living evidence of life in Christ? If so, how? If not, why not? Talk amongst yourselves . . . .see you in worship this Sunday as we discuss "The Lazarus Effect." a.