Easter 2, 2025

                 Many of you may remember my defense of Thomas in previous years.  That he doubts is not unusual, that he likes to have evidence.  Everyone else in the story also likes evidence of the risen Christ, and receives it.  Thomas only asks for what the others have also received.  After saying that he will need not just to see, but to touch Jesus’ hands and side, he is invited to by Jesus and finds he doesn’t need to touch him.  He has evidence enough to declare, “My Lord and my God,” which is to take the statement of belief to the next level. 

                Peter has declared that Jesus is the Son of God. Mary has declared that Jesus is the Son of God. Thomas has a next-level statement of faith and belief, putting together what Jesus has been saying, that he and God are one.  Thomas declares, “My Lord and my God.”  Jesus is not only God’s son, but one with God.  Thomas declares that Jesus is Divine, fully God.  Wow!

                The journey to faith can take any form.  Some of us are born into faith.  Some take circuitous routes.  Some were not raised going to church, but found church through a friend or some longing within.  People often went to church based on what was closest to their home, easier to get to, or having a worship time that worked.  Some came to faith through music, or a spouse, or any number of doors.  In each case different evidence led to a life of faith.

                For many of us, the faith of our parents and grandparents and their stories of God bringing them through was good enough evidence to start with.  We gravitate toward what we are used to. Sometimes a Baptist and a Roman Catholic get married and they go to find a church and they join the Lutheran Church.  Sometimes children find a place of belonging where they can use their gifts and bring their parents and grandparents.  In many cases, the openness of the community to receive and truly welcome is the evidence.  Evidence can be found in food, in relationships, in music, in those who show up when we need them, in a pastor who gets it or married, confirmed, or baptized people who are precious to us. 

                And evidence can be found in wounds, like they are in the Gospel today.  People often come to faith out of woundedness.  I was a chaplain in a hospital when I was fresh out of seminary.  I found people very open to exploring questions of faith and the meaning of life and taking inventory and preparing to make changes.  There is nothing like a hospitalization to make a person stop everything and take a good long hard look at their lives.  People tend to ask questions like, What does my life mean?  Am I on the right track or is there something I need to change?  What are my regrets?  What are my hopes and dreams?  What unfinished business do I want to work on?  A hospitalization can be a rich time for spirituality. 

                But we don’t have to wait until it gets to that point because we all carry wounds.  We carry wounds of grief for people we have loved or relationships that are lost.  We carry wounds from regrets of things we never accomplished or things we said or did that we shouldn’t have.  We carry wounds from people who have hurt us or who we have hurt.  But we don’t always stop and tend to those wounds.  The world tells us to cover the wound and get up and get back to work being productive.  Act like everything is ok.

                Church is a hospital for wounded people.  We come because we have wounds, needs.  We need healing.  We need Jesus.  We need each other.  We need to be around other people who have wounds for encouragement and advice and accountability that we are taking the treatment prescribed for healing.  We come with our wounds and we don’t have to hide them because our wounds remind us that we are vulnerable, that we need other people’s expertise.  We don’t have to be ashamed of our wounds, because even Jesus had wounds.

                On this Sunday nearest Earth Day, we celebrate the Earth that we came from and who we have a responsibility toward.  We are invited to examine the Earth’s wounds.  In most cases they are our own.  What she suffers, we suffer, too because we are relatives, we are earth-creatures made from the dust of the earth and we depend on her to give us life.  When she hurts we hurt, many times quite literally.  When she endures pollution, we all carry it in our bodies.  When she is over-harvested, we feel the effects.  Our wounds that we share with the earth receive a lot of attention, to the point that sometimes we forget that we can have a good relationship with the earth.  We learn from our Indigenous siblings that humans are a keystone species that can have a positive effect on the earth.  When we tend and keep the earth, become stewards instead of dominators, when we listen to the earth and her needs and respond with recognition, we can be healers, too.  We can take our proper relationships alongside the earth.  Then life will flourish for all living creatures.

                Our journey of faith can take many twists and turns and there is no one right path.  We never know what evidence might present itself and we find ourselves feeling closer or further away.  But we don’t base our next step on how we feel, but we engage in the relationship with God and each other because it is a priority.  We work on communication and healing, service and justice.  We can look at our wounds and share them because they are evidence of God’s grace and love, of God’s presence and healing.

                Today Gabriel and Sandy are being baptized. Each of them has had their own circuitous journeys of faith.  They come to us with all their histories, of their families’ influence on them, their own evidence drawing them or repelling them away from different communities of faith in different times.  Thomas’ story shows us there is no one right way or right time to recognize that Jesus is standing right in front of us.  There is no right time to receive the sacrament of Holy Baptism. 

To come to the font as an adult is to be drawn to God, to humble yourself to be washed in these waters, it is to come with all your baggage, knowing how uncertain this world is, knowing that people are flawed and let us down, knowing the church has hurt people, and yet putting your trust in God and accepting God’s love and mercy.  There is something about coming here with all your wounds, presenting yourself to God and being able to receive God’s blessing, unable to accomplish your salvation yourself.  It’s admirable.  It’s beautiful.

                And the journey is far from over.  Where will you go from this font?  What will you encounter?  Who will you meet?  What will swell your faith and what will make you shudder? We all get to explore these questions. Through it all, God has already been with you your whole lives, and now you go forward with this blessing, this seal, this promise, and these words, “You are God’s beloved.”  What was already true is said out loud and it makes a difference to hear it in your ear, to feel it on your brow, to hold it in your heart.  We all say together this day, “My Lord and My God,” and Jesus says to us, “Peace be with you.  As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”  So we go out with our wounds, our blessings, and our new life to share abundant good news with the world.