Faith Manages: A Homily for The First Sunday After Easter Day

Acts 2:14a, 22-32
Psalm 16
1 Peter 1:3-9
John 20:19-31

St. Thomas's Anglican Church
Toronto, ON

“Then came Jesus, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said, Peace be unto you.”

+In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Statues by Duane Linklater

A few days ago, I was riding my bike on the Don Valley trail. I noticed how empty the roads are and the overall silence that has fallen upon our city. There are pockets of activity as people go about their business but there is a certain echo of the life that once was. Many refer to this as the new normal. This new normal is often described in terms of absence. We go about our lives in some ways as if nothing has changed, but we see everywhere that nothing is the same. We try to maintain some semblance of a routine: we wake up, we shower, we eat, we watch or read the news, we try to do our work, we get distracted, we eat again, we try to go back to work, we give up, we go outside for a walk, we eat again, we do some other chore, and then go to bed. We repeat this daily as our new normal. Our lives are now circumscribed by our home’s walls and most of us do not venture outside except for those few errands that are absolutely necessary.

We gathered two weeks ago virtually to commemorate the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. During our Zoom coffee-hour last Wednesday, many in our community shared their appreciation for the elegant simplicity of our online Holy Week liturgies. We were still able to capture some of the solemnity, beauty, drama, and joys of Holy Week and Easter. Yet there was a certain melancholy as we could not encounter the usual sights, smells, sounds, touch, and taste of Holy Week. Many people walked away from the Easter Mass with a sense of joy that grows from the celebration of Christ’s Resurrection. But I felt in some ways that the joy of the Resurrection slipped away when I returned to my new normal routine on Easter Monday. I found myself asking, now what? How do we live into Eastertide in the duration of this, and as the quarantine continues on in the weeks to come?

In many respects, our Easter celebration this year has taken on new meaning. We are like the disciples, locked away and living in a state of isolation. Like them, we too have learned that Christ’s tomb is empty, and have learned of Mary Magdalen’s encounter with the risen Lord, and like them in this Gospel we find ourselves locked away. They hide themselves away, venturing outside only for those few errands that are absolutely necessary. However, Jesus breaks into the locked room, not through the door but through reality itself. He offers peace to the disciples and breathes the Holy Spirit upon them. Thomas, however, is not there when Jesus first appears, he is outside, perhaps running an absolutely necessary errand. He hears from the other apostles that Jesus appeared to them but does not believe. He says, “Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe.” Later Thomas and the other the disciples are gathered again in the locked room. Jesus breaks in again presents his hands and his side for Thomas to touch. Thomas, upon realising Jesus is truly and physically there, and declares “My Lord and my God”. Jesus replies, “Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.”

The Incredulity of St Thomas, Getty Museum

I could then easily tell you that what Jesus has to say “blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed” will be sufficient to carry you through this period of isolation and quarantine as it carries on into Eastertide. But in some ways that is a cold comfort in this new normal. It may be easier to repeat what Jesus says, but to actually take those words into our hearts especially now, can be quite difficult. We ask ourselves how long this social distancing will continue, how long will I be isolated and locked behind my door? If only we could be like the apostles who had it so easy, Jesus could then break down that door break into my reality. Jesus could then cross into that 6-foot barrier of distance around myself and be close to me. If only he could present his hands and his side for me to touch. If only, like in so many artistic depictions of this scene, Jesus would grab my hand so that I could feel his hand, and feel his body, and know that there is another living and breathing person in front of me. Then I would have hope, then I would believe, and then I can be strengthened for whatever may come in the next few weeks. And yet, this is not the case, and so we go through another day of this new normal wondering where is God in all of this. Where is the resurrection when it feels we are still in the tomb?

Jesus’s resurrection is a promise and gift to humanity. What Jesus gives to his disciples and to us is not the gift of his physical body, but the promise and the gift of faith. It is more precious than any physical or worldly treasure. Faith is the promise that the past has meaning and will be fulfilled. It is the promise of a future restored and renewed better than the past ever way. And, though this may cliched, faith transforms the normal into the abnormal the ordinary into the extraordinary. The faith that the resurrected Christ offers to his apostles and to all of us is that where we are and all that surrounds us is indeed good because in his resurrection, he is still embodied clothed with the mundane aspects of creation just as we are. Jesus is resurrected and his body is glorified, but it is still his original body. He is still a human being; his divinity has not consumed or superseded his humanity. The body that he was incarnate in is still a good body and yet it also bears the wounds of its humanity. It is a promise that this world is still good, that this world is still loved and held closely by God even when we are surrounded by uncertainty, fear, or even monotony. It tells us that the normal we find ourselves in, whether it is an old normal, or a new normal, or a new-new normal, is still good enough for God, and God will always come into it and transform it. Christ breaks into our world and is present, even though we might not see or touch him, he is still there.

Evergreen Brick Works

In the Hebrew language, and indeed in many Semitic languages, the word for breath or wind, ruha, is also the word for spirit. Beginning in Genesis and throughout the entire Bible there is this linking between spirit, breath, and wind. Jesus in this story breathes the Holy Spirit on his disciples. I like to believe that the coming of the Holy Spirit here and on the Day of Pentecost was not a localized phenomenon of Christ’s breath on the disciples. Rather, God’s breath is shared and continues beyond this moment. God continually breaths upon creation as one would blow on a fire to bring forth new life, new heat, and new warmth from it. As I ride my bike alone in the Don Valley, I often feel the wind blowing up on me, pushing me forward or back. I see it rustling through the trees, I hear it as it moves up on the river, and it carries the sounds of life wherever it goes. Christ is still present in this world; he lives and moves among us. He does indeed crash into our lives and breathe upon us to give us life and vigour. He gives us the gift of faith, faith that our times and places have meaning, that he will never abandon us, and that the world we live in is still indeed good.

Faith manages. Faith will manage us through this normal the next new normal and whatever new normal lies out there because faith reminds us of God’s continual presence and renewal in the world. Jesus through his breath upon the world continues to work wonders and signs that are both readily apparent and sometimes hard to see. He is present in every routine day, every quiet walk, every moment with a bored and screaming child, every line-up outside the store, every meal given to the poor, every Zoom call (yes, even the ones that get Zoom-bombed), every hospital waiting room, and every day that lives are saved because we are staying home. Jesus moves in ways that we may see or not see, know or not know, but he is still present, breathing life into this world, even the very walls of our homes. “And many other signs truly did Jesus in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book:  But these are written, that ye might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing ye might have life through his name.”

Amen.