Believing is Seeing?

sermon by Torin Eikler
John 20:19-31 Psalm 16

Well it has finally happened – we have reached the end of candy season. Easter brings the end a six month sugar rush that started way back on October 31st – with an appropriate break for Lent of course – and I can’t say how pleased I am that after a half dozen more chocolate eggs and several gummy candies we will honestly be able to tell our boys that there is no more artificially sweetened, tooth decay causing energy bombs in the house. After a few days of sugar withdrawal, our household will finally be back to normal (if there is such a thing).

But “candy season” – or the Holidays as we usually like to call it – is a nice time of year. Lights and decorations and laughter and gifts do make for a festive mood and, we generally have a lot of fun visiting with friends and relatives and just playing together. It is also a wonderful time for teaching children. They tend to be more open to sitting as we read stories or talk about the meaning of Christmas and Easter when their interest is peaked by the cultural obsessions all around them. The only draw back is that those same obsessions get in the way of what we are trying to teach, and it is not easy to brush them aside to get to the truth hidden under all the hype.

How do you get kids to think about the wonder of the incarnation, the amazing love that it took for Jesus to go to the cross, or the miraculous grace that is proven by the resurrection when Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny are sitting in front of the manger and the open grave? It would be hard enough to deal with those slippery concepts on their own, but when you add the concrete, tangible Santa in the Mall it seems like an impossible challenge. Add to that the instant gratification of gifts, stockings, and plastic eggs filled with candy, and it is nigh unto impossible to convince kids that Easter and Christmas are really about an otherworldly, selfless God coming to meet us where we are and not about the fulfillment of very concrete, self-centered pleasure.


But that struggle is nothing new to Christianity, and if you look farther back into the history of Judaism, you find it there as well. It has always been a struggle to convince people of the existence and the power of a God that cannot be seen and whose gifts do not come wrapped in aluminum foil or fancy paper with a bow. It was - and is - much easier for people to believe in a deity whose face was presented to them in stone … easier to understand a god who gave you an oracle or healing or whatever else you wanted (or thought you wanted) as long as you went through the proper steps to gain his or her favor. It seems to be an integral part of human nature to want proof … to trust only what our senses can present to us as true. “Seeing IS believing” after all … Right?


That’s the question that is at the heart of what has become one of our family’s favorite holiday films, “The Polar Express.” In that movie a boy of 8 years old struggles with his belief in Santa Claus. At first he finds his suspicions confirmed as he pretends to sleep and overhears his parents sneaking about the house to fill stockings and put presents under the tree, but after he falls asleep, the boy – you know we never learn his name … maybe that’s so that we can all see ourselves in him. Anyway, the boy wakes up to find a mystical train running through his front yard. He gets on board, and after several adventures he finds himself in the town square of North Pole City as Santa comes out to start his deliveries.

As he stands there, waiting for definitive proof that Santa exists, he finds that he can’t see because of the crowd of elves thronging the plaza. Even more puzzling, he can’t seem to hear the sound of the sleigh bells on the reindeer harnesses. One of those bells falls off and rolls to his feet where he picks it up and, shaking it by his ear, confirms that it makes no sound – at least not that he can hear.

At this point, I should give you all a spoiler alert. If you haven’t seen “The Polar Express,” and you want to experience the ending un-spoiled, put your fingers in your ears for the next minute or so.

(wait)

As the boy stands there (and we stand there with him), he remembers what the conductor on the train told him: “Seems to me you’ve got it backwards…. Believing is seeing.” He closes his eyes and repeats to himself over and over, “I believe. I believe. I believe,” as he continues to shake the bell. Finally, the sound of the bell ringing comes to him, drowning out everything else, and when he opens his eyes in wonder, he sees the reflection of Santa peering over his shoulder. The whole experience, it seems, was just what he needed to find his way to belief even without having seen.

(fingers out of ears gesture)


John, too, knew the value of vicarious experience. Faced with a new generation of people who never had the chance to meet Jesus, hear him teaching, or experience the power of his presence, he wrote a gospel unlike those written by the other evangelists. As Gail O’Day says in her commentary, his purpose was not really about informing people about the life of Jesus, though the facts are important. It was to tell a story … a really good story that drew the readers in so that they stood next to Mary at the entrance to the tomb, gathered in fear with the disciples in the locked room, and demanded, with Thomas, additional proof of the resurrection. He gave them … and us … exactly what we need to believe even without seeing.


And what does he want us to understand – to see through the power of the experience? It is more than just the fact that Jesus died or rose from the tomb. Those realities are just signs. The resurrection stories, as powerful and amazing as they are, are just markers pointing the direction to something even more profound. “The empty tomb [reveals that] Jesus’ victory over death and the ruler of this world [is absolute…. The appearance to Mary points to] Jesus’ continuing presence as the good shepherd, [caring for his sheep as their journey continues.] Jesus’ [first] appearance to the disciples points to the gift of the Spirit and the truth of [the promises he made in the upper room.] [And, when Jesus appears, providing Thomas with all that he asks,] Thomas saw through the physical miracle [and recognizes the deeper truth to which it points:] the full revelation of God in Jesus.”

In Thomas’ declaration, “My Lord and my God,” we hear the most profound affirmation of Jesus’ relationship with God that can be found in any of the gospels. And, brought to that room by John’s narrative, we experience the moment for ourselves. Standing there in front of the risen Christ, gazing at the wounds through Thomas’ eyes and feeling his wonder at the way Jesus offered himself up to meet our need for proof, we are summoned to believe not only in the resurrection but in all that it means: that Jesus is one with God, that all of Jesus promises to us were true, and that the Spirit Advocate has come to live with us.


What a gift that is. What a challenge. A blessing that is full of power, hope, forgiveness … and purpose, for the Spirit summons us … compels us to more than simply reveling in its presence. We understand that already … somewhere deep in our beings. Jesus told the disciples that he was sending them … sending us … as God had sent him – to forgive or retain sin, and he gave us the Spirit to empower that mission. Unfortunately, we have come to understand that through the lens of the Reformation and an understanding of sin as a moral or behavioral misstep that has led to a lot of grief and abuse at the hands of the church.

The way John uses “sin” here is much different. This sin is a blindness of sorts, an inability or unwillingness to see the revelation of God in Jesus. “When Jesus commissions the [community of his followers] to continue [his work, he means that we are to make] God in Jesus known in the world.” That’s the purpose of the Spirit - to guide, direct, and empower the work of making the graceful presence of God at work in the world through Christ, revealing the truth of what it means to be children of God living in God’s world.

What that looks like we can’t know, can’t see except as we watch for it. The call unfolds before us moment by moment. We believe and we watch. And our eyes are open to see the moments when we can become the voice and touch of the Spirit drawing others to the path of Life.


We have received everything we need – will be given everything we need – not only to believe but to fulfill our purpose: a story to guide us, the Spirit breathed out to encourage and empower, and the peace of Christ to make us fearless. This is the true gift of the holidays, sweeter than all the candy and more fulfilling than anything you might find under the tree. Jesus meets us in the midst of our fear and our doubt, offers himself as the path of new life, and passes on the joyous task of sharing the good news with the world.