Quasimodo Geniti, 2022

Rev. Thomas Van Hemert

St. John 20:19-31

Quasimodo Geniti

April 24, 2022

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

It seems to me, maybe it seems this way to you as well, or maybe this is just me as still a somewhat new pastor, but the longer I’ve served here as a pastor in this congregation, the more and more I am beginning to realize how much we are surrounded by death. Not only have planning and presiding over funerals taken up a lot of time—time spent with the bereaved and those who are hurting, comforting them with the Gospel of Christ and of the Resurrection of the body—but like I said, I am becoming increasingly aware of how much we are surrounded by sin and death. However, if you read the Psalms or even St. Paul’s epistles, there really should be no surprise in all this. In sin did our mothers conceive us. The wages, that is, our due payment for our sin, what we rightly deserve, the penalty, is death. For all sin and fall short of the glory of God. All men sin. Thus, all men die.

I haven’t been a pastor, called to serve this congregation, for two years. Yet not only have I already presided over a large number of funerals, but one of my own classmates from seminary, a brother in the ministry, whom I studied with for four years, has passed away. He served in northern Minnesota. So also the seminarian who came after me on vicarage and was eventually called into the Office of the Holy Ministry, who served as a pastor in Beardstown, Illinois, six months ago was found dead in his home. He suffered an apparent heart attack, leaving behind his wife and two infant daughters.

Perhaps, you also are becoming increasingly aware of the fragility of man. I hear constant conversation in the church about who now has had his or her obituary listed in the Gazette or online. I often hear plans to carpool and attend yet another funeral in the town over here or over there. Long-time friends, who we love dearly, who we remember fondly, whose families we still know and love, are all coming to that wage that is theirs because of sin.

And it is because of sin that we must follow all those who go before us and return to the grave, to the dust of the earth. It’s not a pleasant thought. Some might say that thinking and contemplating our own death is morbid and frightening. And it is. The devil brought death into the world by deceiving Adam and Eve. Adam called his wife’s name Eve because she is the mother of all the living. And because we are children of Eve, we will all follow her to the grave. Sounds a bit morbid. It’s not a very joyful thought. And unless Jesus comes again in glory, we will all come to that grave that awaits us.

Locked in that upper room, the disciples were certainly thinking about death. Their teacher, their Lord and their God was just executed in a public display. Maybe they were next. The chief priests and the Pharisees and scribes had sought out Jesus and arrested Him at night. And so it was, that on the evening of that day, the first day of the week, the doors to the upper room were locked because the disciples feared the Jews—those same Jews that arrested and tried Jesus; the Jews who are responsible for the death of Jesus. The Passover was over and done with. It would seem that the chief priests and Pharisees and scribes had much more time on their hands. Maybe now was the time to finish off those pesky disciples of the One they had crucified. The disciples were afraid. They were fearful. Were they next? Many people at the trial seemed to recognize Peter as one of Jesus’ disciples. Would they all experience the same affliction—the same punishment, the flogging, the ridicule, the same shame and death—that Jesus experienced? 

They had gathered in fear. Not only because of the fear of the Jews but they were also well aware of their own failures: how they failed their Teacher by failing to keep watch and pray in the garden; how they fled when that armed band came out and arrested Jesus; how the Jews smote the shepherd and how they all scattered like sheep. Those who had promised to go with Jesus to the death, had all failed their Lord. They had not kept their promises. Thus, they felt shame and guilt. How often is it that we fail our Lord? We all have made vows: confirmation vows, marriage vows, even ordination vows, how often do we daily, fail? How easy is it for us to take the easy way out, to not love worship, to think of it as an inconvenience? How easy it for us to take the easy way out and become angry at our spouses or treat them as if they are not one flesh with us? Are any of us innocent of wrongdoing? We are sinners. And because we are sinners, it is true that we are beggars.

We have nothing, no holiness or self-worth when we stand before God and so what does He do? He does not come to us in anger or wrath. He comes to us, just as He came to the disciples. He appeared among them in that upper room and stands among them and pronounces “Peace.” No longer does God send an angel to announce His peace, but God comes to them in the person of Jesus Christ, the man whom the Jews crucified but whom the Father raised from the dead and He stands in their midst. He who died but who lives now pronounces peace to the fearful disciples. He calms their fearful hearts; He rights their wrongs; He forgives them of their insolence and cowardice and He bestows His peace upon them.

But where was Thomas in all this? He was absent. Why was he absent? God made it so. He made it so, so that He could show all of the disciples the depth of His love and forgiveness, how Jesus suffers their insolence, their doubt, and their unbelief. But He does not care. He loves each and every one of them unto the very end. He suffers even Thomas’ ignorance and his demands. Jesus suffers all this, He even gives into Thomas’ demands because He doesn’t want to lose him to unbelief, despair, and other great shame and vice.

And so it is, Thomas is an example for us all. If Thomas, a disciple and apostle of Jesus can fall victim to doubt and unbelief, even though He saw the great miracles and wonders Jesus performed, then doubt and unbelief can befall any of you. Maybe you have had your days dealing with doubtful thoughts. Maybe you’re feeling like Thomas today. Maybe in your own prayers, you have asked God for a sign. “Confirm your love to me, O Lord! Show me, prove to me that you love me! I know Your Word, I know the Holy Scriptures, but I need something more. I need a physical sign, just like Thomas.”

Jesus doesn’t want to lose you to unbelief, despair, and other great shame and vice, so Jesus comes to you. He makes Himself present among you, in, with, and under things like bread and the wine amid our songs and canticles pleading for peace. Though these means, we receive the crucified and risen Body of Jesus Christ so that He would calm our fears, cover our shame, and give us everlasting, heavenly peace. We sing, “O Christ, Thou Lamb of God, that takest away the sin of the world, grant us Thy peace. And He does. He listens to us. He does what we ask of Him. He gives in to our demands. When we sing the Agnus Dei during the Communion liturgy, we are not timidly asking for God to grant us His peace. It's not a plea like a slave makes to his master. We are firmly believing, even demanding that because God has promised to give us His peace, just as He said in the upper room among the fearful disciples, by demanding this of Him, we are holding Him to His word, and He, without fail, keeps His promises. He has made us heirs of His Kingdom. We as children of God have a right to demand heavenly blessings that are ours because we are children of the Heavenly Father. He says, “Ask and you shall receive.” Forgiveness, freedom, salvation, all these things are our good and great heritage and our inheritance. They are ours just as they are for the disciples who cowered in that upper room, a week after Easter. Jesus has come and He brings eternal pleasures.

But in the end, let us also take comfort in the fact that we have the testimony of Holy Scripture. Nothing that has been recorded for us in the Bible happened by chance but was divinely ordained by God so that we might believe. For John writes, “These things are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, you may have life in his name.” So let this true and faithful testimony of Scripture comfort our frightened, doubting, and despairing consciences. Jesus appeared to the disciples and so He comes to us in the divine liturgy of the Church. For Jesus lives. Alleluia, Jesus lives.

In +Jesus’ name.