Second Sunday of Easter Sermon

Poor Thomas. We all know “Doubting Thomas,” even if we don’t know where the phrase comes from. But, of course, it comes from here – this story we just heard – the evening of that first Easter Sunday, when Jesus appeared to the disciples. Thomas wasn’t there, though, so he missed the whole thing. And when he returned, and everyone was all excited about what they’d just seen, he couldn’t believe. “Not unless I see it and touch it for myself,” he says.

Fair enough. We can all relate to that. The tale of someone else’s experience is rarely enough for us. We need our own experience, something we can hold onto. “Because of this, what I’ve experienced for myself, I can now believe.”

Years ago, as young parents, we were poor. I mean, we were just barely squeaking by. The kids were toddlers at the time. And, if you’ve ever been there, you know how financial stress feels. It can saturate everything. I remember walking out to the mailbox one afternoon and praying – quite sincerely – “God, let there be a check in the mail.” Mind you, I wasn’t talking about the tax refund or some other check I had a legitimate reason to expect. This was a “check out nowhere” I was praying for. And I opened the mailbox, and there was a check, an out of nowhere check… for six dollars.

And I remember just standing there by the mailbox, stupefied and bemused. It felt more like mockery than an actual answer to pray.

But the longer I stood there, check in hand, sifting through my emotions, I realized: it was the answer to my prayer. Not the prayer I thought I was praying: “Give me money, and plenty of it.” No, it was an answer to the deeper prayer: “God, do you see me? Do you care? Do you know how hard this is for me?”

And from those six dollars came the voice of God, “Yes, Eric, I do see you. I do care. I do know how hard this is for you. And…this is the life I need you to be living now.” My real need wasn’t the money itself or the relief from stress. It was – from within the stress, from within this season of a burgeoning adulthood and all it required of me – to know and believe: “Yes, Eric, I do see you. And I am with you. In everything.”

Of course, we prefer to be comfortable. That’s normal. But we need so much more. We crave the assurance, in comfort or discomfort, in joy or sorrow, that God is with us. That’s what Thomas wanted. It’s what I wanted. It’s what we all want – the assurance that God is real, that God is with us, that God is loving us within the very depths of all we’re going through. Because if that is so, and we know it to be true, then all will be well. That is the strength to carry us every step of the way, through this life, and to the end.

And it is this “God with us, God in us” reality that lies at the heart of Jesus’ interaction with his disciples there in the upper room. “He breathed on them and said, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’”

Just like the story of God at the dawn of creation, molding a man out of the mud, then breathing the breath of life into him, our lives are animated and defined by God’s presence in us and our divine mandate to live as God in this world.

“Peace be with you,” he said. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”

What marvelous dignity Christ gives us. For the same Spirit that filled the disciples’ lungs continues to breathe in and out of us, Christ’s body, the church. We continue in this same ministry of peace.

In this world, filled as it is with conflict and division and bitterness, we get to be part of its healing. We get to be the ones offering peace, because we are discovering ourselves to be of God. This is the breath we breathe.

And this is no hardship at all. More and more, I find the secret to living simply to be opening our eyes to see God already present everywhere, already loving everyone. All we need do is enter in and participate in what God is always doing.

I felt this so keenly not long ago. It was my day off. I was at my favorite bakery. Lent was over. The morning sun was shining in on me. And, with a frangipane tart in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, I was primed to believe in the goodness of this world. I went to order a second cup of coffee when this homeless guy came into the bakery. I saw the two cashiers give each other the eye: clearly, this guy was a regular and his ability to pay was…irregular. But when the man ordered his coffee, it pleased me so much to see how courteously the clerk asked him, “Are you able to pay today?” The guy rushed back to his walker and I whispered to the clerk, “I can cover it if necessary.” But he came back, with a crisp, new $5 bill.

And let me tell you, the whole thing just made me so happy: Happy at the courtesy of the clerk; happy for that man – that today he did have the $5; happy for whomever the source of that money had been; happy that I was participant in this moment, simply because I had the eyes to see it.

From there I walked down to the farmers’ market. I was happy for the tulip man who grows fields of tulips and makes them available for us. And on and on went my day.

And I share all this with you because of how ordinary it was. The only thing that changed was my frame of mind, able to see the extraordinary peace of God alive in this world. And, seeing God’s peace, I wanted to participate. I wanted to take my money and let it become the warm cup of coffee for that man to enjoy; to take my money and let it become the livelihood of the tulip man. I wanted to join in his ministry (you might say) by buying his tulips to give to a friend who had no reason to expect them at all.

The peace of God is everywhere. Our job is to breathe it in, to let it become the breath of God that makes us truly alive; and then to breathe it out, that others might also live with peace.

This imagery of Jesus breathing God’s peace into us can also be helpful for us as we step into our We Choose Love intentions – as we each choose that deliberate “thing” we want to do to make this world a better place, to make our community a more hopeful place. We, like Jesus, are breathing peace into this world. As God breathes hope into us, we breathe hope into our workplaces. As God breathes love into us, we breathe love into Gig Harbor. As God breathes forgiveness into us, we breathe forgiveness into our families. We are God’s peace.

Last week, on Easter Sunday, we handed out these gold cards. We invited  everyone to think about what their “one thing” could be, and then (on the gold side) to write their intentions, and to bring them back to St. John’s to fill in the cracks of that fractured map on the back wall – that we may see, visibly, the many ways St. John’s is choosing to become God’s love here and now.

Yes, we are living in an increasingly fractured world. But the gospel remains the same. Always. Christ is risen. Love has conquered. Peace is our only mandate. And, as much as being peacemakers is aspirational, it is also already a settled deal. It’s the only true reality worthy of these beautiful lives we’ve been given.

And, in the spirit of being a unified church, with a unified voice for peace, I invite us to hear part of Pope Leo’s Easter message preached last Sunday:

“[Forgiveness],” he says, “is the true strength that brings peace to humanity, because it fosters respectful relationships at every level: among individuals, families, social groups, and nations. It does not seek private interests, but the common good; it does not seek to impose its own plan, but to help design and carry out a plan together with others.

“Yes, Christ’s resurrection is the beginning of a new humanity; it is the entrance into the true promised land, where justice, freedom, and peace reign, where all recognize one another as brothers and sisters, children of the same Father who is Love, Life, and Light….

“In the light of Easter, let us allow ourselves to be amazed by Christ! Let us allow our hearts to be transformed by his immense love for us! Let those who have weapons lay them down! Let those who have the power to unleash wars choose peace! Not a peace imposed by force, but through dialogue! Not with the desire to dominate others, but to encounter them!

“We are growing accustomed to violence, resigning ourselves to it, and becoming indifferent. Indifferent to the deaths of thousands of people. Indifferent to the repercussions of hatred and division that conflicts sow. Indifferent to the economic and social consequences they produce, which we all feel. There is an ever-increasing ‘globalization of indifference ….

“[But Jesus] passed through death to give us life and peace: ‘I leave you peace; I give you my peace. Not as the world gives it, I give it to you.’[1] The peace that Jesus gives us is not merely the silence of weapons, but the peace that touches and transforms the heart of each one of us! Let us allow ourselves to be transformed by the peace of Christ! Let us make heard the cry for peace that springs from our hearts….

“Let us abandon every desire for conflict, domination, and power, and implore the Lord to grant his peace to a world ravaged by wars and marked by a hatred and indifference that make us feel powerless in the face of evil. To the Lord we entrust all hearts that suffer and await the true peace that only [God] can give. Let us entrust ourselves to [God] and open our hearts to [God]! [For God] is the only one who makes all things new.[2]

“Happy Easter.”[3]

And, with Pope Leo and all those of good will, seeking a Christianity that truly resembles Christ, I say, again, in this season without end: Happy Easter.”

[1] John 14:27

[2]  Rev. 21:5

[3] “Urbi et Orbi” Message of his Holiness Pope Leo XIV, Easter 2026, 5 April 2026.