Pastor Mark

Post-Easter Discipleship

Acts 4:32-35

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. With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. 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. They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.

John 20:19-31

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors on the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” When he said this, he showed them his hands and his sides, and the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. He said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so now I send you.” And after he 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.”

Now, Thomas (who was called “the Twin”) one of the twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus appeared. So the disciples said to him, “We have seen the Lord.” But Thomas said to them, “Unless I see the marks of the nails in his hands, and put my fingers in the marks of the nails, and my hands in his side, I will not believe.”

A week later, the disciples were again in the house and this time, 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 fingers here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt, but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” And Jesus said to him, “Do you believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

Now, Jesus did many other signs which are not written in this book, but these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you might have life in his name.


If I were to meet Thomas today, I would ask him, which would have been harder for him to believe: What we heard about in this Gospel reading from John or what took place in that reading, later in Acts, Chapter 4.

In John’s Gospel, immediately following Easter’s resurrection, we hear the familiar story about the unfairly infamous “Doubting Thomas” with all of that heavy breathing, behind the locked doors of that hideout of a house. There are Jesus’ holey hands and scarred sides. There are those commands to be sent into the world with the authority to forgive the sins of others, at their discretion. And there’s that invitation to “not doubt, but believe.” That’s a whole lot of hard, holy stuff to take in, to buy, and to make sense of.

But it’s at least as easy to believe, if you ask me, as what happens later in Acts. Did you hear it? Were you paying attention? Did you consider it with at least as much seriousness as Easter’s good news and Thomas’ doubts?

First, it’s worth knowing that “the whole group who believed” as we hear about in Acts, was bigger than just the handful of disciples who saw Jesus in that house with Thomas on Easter Sunday. By the time we get to that Acts reading, thousands had been baptized and had come to believe; believers and followers were being added to the mix every day. And this is what we’re told:

- The whole group of those thousands who believed were of one heart and soul. (How could that be?)

- And not one of them claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. (Can you imagine?)

- There was not a needy person among them, as the story goes. They sold their land and houses, and laid the proceeds of it at the feet of the apostles’ to be handed out, as any had need, no strings attached. (Call me “Thomas.” I’d need to see it, for myself, to believe it.)

Because that sounds like a cult to me. Or socialism, God forbid. Nothing most of us – and the culture surrounding us – are willing to believe or buy into, practice or propagate as faithful capitalists. But there it is, in black and white, lifted up as a model for faithful living, right there in the Word of God.

And it makes me wonder if people in the world might have an easier time believing the former – the Gospel good news that the love of God, in Jesus, was more powerful, even, than death – if they could see and experience the latter, from his followers like you and me – that kind of radical, selfless, sacrificial, generosity – I mean. And that’s a question we’re called to ponder, still.

We were blessed enough to have celebrated a couple of baptisms the last couple of weeks here, in worship – one, each, on Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday, too. Depending on which service you attended, you may or may not have known that. And, as is customary at Cross of Grace, especially when the family of the baptized and/or a sanctuary full of people who don’t usually attend Cross of Grace – or church, generally, for that matter, as is customary on a typical Easter Sunday – we make a deliberate effort at explaining ourselves.

What I mean is, we baptize at the back, by the door. We move the baptismal bowl. We encourage everyone to stand and turn to see it. And we explain our reasoning for that is two-fold. First, because baptism is a sign of our invitation, welcome and entry to the Church on this side of heaven. And it’s also a sign of our promised welcome into God’s heaven, on the other side of eternity. Hence, the doors.

And the second reason we turn our attention to the back, is to show that the kind of grace we celebrate, pour out, and promise to one another by way of Holy Baptism, is meant to turn us around, quite literally, in as many ways as we’ll allow that to happen. It’s meant to change us, utterly. God’s love is meant to inspire and transform the way we live and move and breathe in the world – here and now, on this side of heaven, in great gratitude for God’s love in our lives and for the sake of the world.

That’s what the good news of Easter’s grace and love and new life was doing in that room with Thomas and those first disciples – everything was changed and changing. And that’s what the good news of Easter’s grace and love and new life was doing in the lives of those followers in Acts, just the same – everything was changed and changing, still, for those who wanted in on the action, too.

They were so captivated by who they now knew Jesus to be – the Messiah, the Son of God – that they let that good news have its way with every part of their life, as individuals and as a community of faith. They devoted themselves to each other in prayer, fellowship, teaching, worship … and in sharing their money for the good of the cause, too.

Several weeks ago, before we got knee deep into the season of Lent, in preparation for Easter, we engaged some wonderful Holy Conversations as a congregation. Those conversations were about a lot of things – what we’ve been up to as a family of faith, what we hope to see happen around here in the future, and how we plan to make that happen. And we have some big dreams brewing among us. We heard about building projects, expanding our food pantry ministry, growing our influence in social justice efforts, adding programming for kids and youth, and more.

And we’d like to continue those conversations now that we’ve made it to the other side of Easter. Not in the same way. We won’t be hosting special events, happy hours, or luncheons and whatnot, like we did for those Holy Conversations. But we’re gearing up to make our General Fund financial commitments in early May, and we want to pray and prepare for that in the context of worship, learning, and service on the other side of the empty tomb – like Thomas and the first disciples; like the apostles and the throngs of the faithful, changed by Easter’s good news and wanting to change the world with the same kind of grace, generosity, love, mercy and forgiveness they had experienced, in Jesus.

That’s God’s call and my hope for all of us, every day that we live on the other side of Easter – that we’ll be so captivated by the grace and blessing of God’s love for the world, that we’ll return the favor as much as we’re able by sharing ourselves and our resources for the sake of what’s so unique about the ministry we share in this place, for the sake of the communities we serve.

And our ministry is uniquely beautiful as far as churches go in our community. I’m talking about our wide, sincere welcome of all people – and especially the LGBTQ neighbors among us. And I’m talking about our food pantry, our teaching about and our doing of justice for those others ignore, and our generosity when we get it right. (We have 25 grant applications to review for the $50,000 we get to give away from our Building and Outreach Fund.)

After that baptism on Palm Sunday, one of the family members of the newly baptized little boy came looking for me to very deliberately thank me for whatever I had preached that day and, generally, for the spirit of welcome and grace and whatever else he felt by being here. He lives out west, so won’t be back anytime soon, but he could see and feel something different about this placed than is true in so many other churches out there in the world. You all deserve to know that just as much as I do.

Like Thomas, sometimes you just have to see and experience it to believe it. So, I’m praying we’re all paying attention. And, like the early Church in Acts – growing and giving and sharing their resources and themselves – I’m hopeful we’ll all get in on the action in the days ahead, because I know others will be drawn to and inspired by what we’re up to when they see and experience the kind of grace we proclaim, right along with us, just the same.

Amen

The Women of Easter's Sunrise

Mark 16:1-8

When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of James, and Salome, went and bought spices so they might anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, after the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, “Who will help us to roll back the stone from the entrance to the tomb?” But when they looked up, they saw the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. When they entered the tomb, they saw a young man there, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right-hand side, and they were alarmed.

But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed. You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised. He is not here. Look at the place where they laid him. But go and tell his disciples, and Peter, that he is going ahead of you, to Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.” So the women got up and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement seized them, and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.


I’ve always thought about the Easter story – no matter which Gospel it comes from – to be the first, greatest, hands-down, no-argument-necessary, evidence and support for the Truth that women could and should be just as welcome as men to be Pastors and Priests and leaders in the church. And I still think that’s True, with a capital T. And since Easter’s early enough to be celebrated on the last day of National Women’s Month, this time around, it seems appropriate to lift that up, first thing this morning.

The evidence of it all is in what we just heard from Mark’s Gospel, where two Marys and Salome bought the spices and showed up at the tomb and were the first to hear the good news of Jesus’ resurrection. According to Matthew’s version of the story, it was just the two Maries. They not only get the news first, but are then the first ones to actually meet Jesus as they run off to tell the disciples. In Luke’s Gospel the group seems to be a bit bigger, but still all women – the Marys, a Joanna this time, and (quote) “the other women with them,” who go un-named – but who are all blessed with the Easter news before anybody else, and who are charged with the task of relaying it to the disciples. And finally, in John’s Gospel, it’s just Mary Magdalene, all by herself, who’s there to find the tomb empty. She thinks something’s wrong and sends the men to investigate, but later she’s the first one to actually meet Jesus, in the garden, and to be told from his very lips, to go and tell the disciples the good news.

So, it’s ridiculous to argue against the notion that women can and should and deserve to be proclaimers and preachers and pastors and priests of God’s good news.

But I think it’s always worth wondering “Why them?” “Why these?” “Why the Marys and Joanna and Salome and ‘the other women with them,’ however it may have gone down?”

And the answer to that seems just as obvious and True, to me: that Jesus’ appearance – first to the women – like so much of the rest of his life and ministry, was just another example of his care and his concern and his love for those the world had little, or less, or no regard for in so many ways.

You know, “the last will be first and the first will be last,” and “just as you did it to one of the least of these,” and all of that?

See, I think Jesus showed up to the women first, not only because they were capable and worthy and up-to-the-task, but because they were among those who needed his resurrection the most. They were, in his day and age, among “the least” in the world – like the lepers and the lame and the blind and the deaf that Jesus was so fond of helping and healing and loving when no one else would. They were, in his day and age, the ones without power, without privilege, without means for justice, without so much that the world around them took for granted and used against them at every turn.

So, I think we’re called to be curious and courageous about who this news is for in our day and age. Who in our world… who in your circle of influence… who in your life… needs this good news about second chances, about forgiveness, about abundance, about new life, in a special, surprising, maybe even desperate kind of way these days?

Don’t get me wrong. It’s for all of us – and we’re going to get to that later this morning with all of the pomp and circumstance that waits for us. But here? Early in the morning? On the first day of the week, as the sun is rising, who is it that’s feeling left out? Who is lost? Who is particularly in need of this first round of blessing, good news, and hope?

I’m thinking of the people in places like Gaza and Haiti and Ukraine, of course. I think of the people for whom no one is praying, today. I think of the prisoner and the houseless and the addicted and the abused. And I think of people closer to home, too. I’m thinking of Anne Janelsins and Tom Bancroft and Frank, and others, who are spending their first Easter after losing a loved one. I’m thinking of Alice Christle who’s been in and out of the hospital, and in and out of the operating room, the last week or so. I’m thinking of Bob and Ruth Boyer as Bob spends his first Easter away from home in Morristown Manor.

To me, it’s a meaningful thing to imagine who – in our lives and in this world – Easter’s good news might find its way to, first… to those who need it most precisely because they need it most.

So when I put it this way, it might seem hard to imagine that this Easter news has anything to do with me, right? Things are pretty good for me, these days. Maybe that’s true for you, too. Most of us aren’t “the least of these” by the rest of the world’s estimation. We’re the ones with the means and the resources and the full bellies and the full plates and with more than our share and with plenty to spare, if we’re honest. But this is still our good news – make no mistake about it.

Maybe you need it most and more urgently than someone else this time around. If that’s the case, I’m glad you’re here early. Please hear and receive the fullness of this love, hope and mercy, right here and right now. If not, please receive the fullness of this love, hope and mercy, just the same, in a way that sends you running to share it with someone who could use it.

Before the big party starts later this morning – with all of its pomp and circumstance and noise and celebration – let’s be compelled by the humility and need of those first women … and let’s be changed by their terror and amazement that this could be True and for them … and let’s be sent into the world to share what belongs to us all, really, but especially with those who are hungry or thirsty, or grieving or afraid, or doubting or denying or dying, even, to know that it’s for them, first and foremost.

Amen