Sermon by Seminarian Feliciy Thompson, 4/27/2025, Easter 2
Some of this story begins 600 years before Jesus walked this Earth. On a Sunday evening, just days after Jesus had been killed. Quoting our first lesson in Acts, “… the God of our ancestors raised up Jesus, whom you had killed by hanging on a tree. God exalted Him at His right hand as Leader and Savior that he might give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins.”
The disciples were hiding in a house. The doors were not just closed, they were locked, tightly shut, maybe even barricaded. Can you sense the fear, and uncertainty in the room? The disciples were terrified. The city outside was not safe.
They had seen what the authorities did to Jesus. The authorities - layers of authority - and over it all was the Roman Empire. And now they wondered if they would be next. Every footstep outside might have sounded like Roman soldiers or Temple guards coming for them. Every voice in the street might have felt like a threat from the religious leaders.
They were not just afraid—they were frozen with fear. A group of friends hiding in the back room of a building, shades drawn, whispering, their hearts racing. Imagine them checking the locks twice, silencing phones, speaking in hushed tones, lip reading at times, talking with their eyes - quietly.
That kind of fear—the fear of being hunted, targeted, or forgotten—that is where this story begins.
Their leader was dead. Their hope was buried. Even though the tomb was empty, they were still full of dread. Fear like that can take over your body, your spirit, your thinking. It can keep you from praying. It can make you forget the promises you once believed. That’s where the disciples were—paralyzed by fear, with nothing but uncertainty and each other.
But even in that fear, even behind those locked doors, Jesus came to them. He stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Not judgment, not a lecture, not “Why are you hiding?”, just peace. Then he showed them his wounds. His body still carried the marks of whippings, bruises from falling, the holes in his side, hands and feet. Ohhh - pain, pain, pain! Jesus didn’t come back spotless—he came back scarred. That’s important. It tells us that the risen Christ knows pain. He knows fear. He knows death. But he also knows how to come back and bring peace.
When the disciples saw Jesus, they were filled with joy. It was really him! And he spoke again: “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” Then he breathed on them. Just like God breathed life into Adam, Jesus now breathes the Holy Spirit into his followers. This is not just a breath. It’s power. It’s permission. It’s purpose. He tells them: you can forgive. You can heal. You can carry on this work. The Spirit will help you.
But Thomas missed the first visit. We don’t know why he wasn’t there, but when the others told him, “We have seen the Lord,” he could not believe it. He wanted to. Maybe he hoped it was true. But hope alone wasn’t enough. He said, “Unless I see the nail marks and touch the wound in his side, I will not believe it.”
Some might think Thomas was being stubborn. But he was being honest. He needed proof. He needed to see something real to help him believe something unbelievable.
This is not so different from many of us today. Giselle lost her job, recently buried a parent, and is raising kids on her own. She’s been told by church folks that “God is good,” but life has not felt good for a long time. She wants to believe, but she needs to see goodness, the presence, the proof that God is with her. Or … someone grieving a sudden loss, hearing that “Jesus is alive” during Easter, but their heart still feels broken, and they can't find joy in resurrection when pain is all they know.
That’s Thomas. And that’s many of us.
Jesus didn’t shame him for needing more. Jesus came to him, showed him the wounds, and invited him to touch. He met Thomas exactly where he was and helped him believe again.
Thomas then said, “My Lord and my God!” It was not just a statement. It was worship. It was surrender. He believed. And Jesus said something powerful: “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
That blessing is for us. We were not in that room. We did not see the wounds. And we believe.
This story tells us many things. It tells us that fear does not keep Jesus away. It tells us that doubt does not disqualify us. It tells us that scars are not signs of weakness. They are signs of what we’ve survived. It tells us that resurrection is not just about coming back to life. It’s about returning to love, to peace, to purpose.
Many of us are behind locked doors today—some literally, some emotionally, some spiritually. We are afraid. We are uncertain. We are grieving. And yet Jesus still comes. He still speaks peace. He still sends the Spirit. He still believes in us.
We are also Thomas. We want to believe. We need to believe. But life has made it hard. So we ask questions. We demand proof. And Jesus meets us in that place, too. Not to judge, but to love. Not to push us away, but to draw us close.
So what do we do with this story today?
We receive the peace Jesus offers. We breathe in the Spirit he gives. We forgive. We believe. We walk with others in their doubt. We stay open to surprise visits from grace. And we remember: locked doors cannot keep out the love of God. Just like the disciples had to see not just a risen Christ, but a present Christ. Not just a Savior in heaven, but a Spirit here on Earth. We can believe he is alive.
As this Gospel reading closes, we are reminded that all these things were written so that we may believe and, in believing, have life in Jesus’ name.
Oh Ezekiel, 600 years before Christ, “Prophesy to these bones and say to them, ‘Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord! This is what the Sovereign Lord says to these bones: I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life. I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the Lord.” …
“So I prophesied as he commanded me, and breath entered them; they came to life and stood up on their feet.”
Amen