St. Thomas and the truths we know in our bones

 

Rev. Molly F. James,  PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer

December 21, 2021

Psalm 126; Habakkuk 2:1-4; John 20:24-29

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

Ah, St. Thomas. He feels like an old friend. I would guess the same true  is for many clergy across the Church. Somehow in its wisdom, the Lectionary Committee decided that it would be appropriate for this story of “Doubting Thomas” to be the Gospel for the Sunday after Easter, every year. So those of us who spent years as an assistant or an associate or serving a small parish where there are no other clergy have a personal library of sermons on this text. They pair nicely with our sermons on the prologue of the Gospel of John which is the Gospel for every year for the Sunday after Christmas. 

While I have certainly had my moments of feeling frustrated by the repetition in our lectionary, those moments where I want to say, “Thomas? Again? Really? How am I supposed to come up with something new to say about him?” But of course if I pause and breathe and sit with it, and I feel differently. I think about my time in Exeter in the UK when I got to sit in the Cathedral for evensong day after day. And you know what is true about that service, the Magnifcat is sung. Pretty much daily. We only get Thomas twice a year: 1 Easter and his feast day. We get the Magnificat everyday. Why? Because the Magnificat is always a good idea. It is, indeed, a text, a message we need to have be central to our lives, to the daily practice of our faith. It is a message that speaks powerfully into whatever kind of day we are having. 

And I believe that the same is true of Thomas. His story speaks powerfully to us again and again. I think it especially speaks to us in this present time. How often, in recent days especially, have we felt like Thomas? Which story, which news headline, which study, which infographic or chart are we supposed to believe? How do we trust information when it seems to be changing on a daily or hourly basis? Do we need to change our plans for the holidays? What is the best way forward for us in our particular circumstances?

The uncertainty and anxiety are swirling all around us. Again. And we are exhausted. We are disheartened and frustrated. If we wanted to find reasons to doubt, reasons to fear, reasons to give into that same sense of foreboding and disillusionment that tempted Thomas. It would be easy to join him, “See, everything is terrible. They have killed my Lord. And to make matters worse someone stole his body, The world is out to get us. Nothing we hoped for is going to come true. All our dreams have been dashed.” Thomas requires actual proof, an actual incarnational experience to believe that his fears are not true. To believe that the tomb is empty because resurrection is real. Because God’s love is stronger than everything, even death. 

And we cannot blame him. The fundamental truths of our lives are not ones that we know just because we hear them or read them. Think about how we talk about them. We talk about knowing them “in our bones.” The most important truths of our lives are not merely intellectual. They are not just information. They are experiential. They are incarnational. 

That’s why we can still feel disquieted after we read the news headlines or the latest CDC briefing or the latest study on any of the myriad challenges our society is currently facing. Even if it is good news, it is just information. We need to be reminded of the fundamental truths of our lives and our faith, and that doesn’t happen through information. It happens through experience. 

So my friends, in these days, when you find yourselves joining Thomas in fear and doubt, reconnect to the experience of faith. Light a candle. Pray with an icon. Walk in the splendor of creation. Call that friend whose voice is a balm to your weary spirit. Hug your loved ones more often. Listen to the music that restores your soul. Attune your senses to all the signs of light and hope in our world. In gathered community. In more hours of daylight. In smiles and small acts of kindness. In the gift of quiet moments. In laughter. In meals shared, even on Zoom. The affirmations of God’s love. Of hope and possibility are all around us. We just need to be listening with our hearts  as well as our ears. AMEN.

Advent: Waiting and Preparation

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer

Monday, November 29, 2021

Psalm 122; Isaiah 2:1-5; Matthew 8:5-13

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

Well, my friends it is Advent. It is that season of waiting. Waiting for the light. Waiting for Jesus. Waiting for that quietness described in our psalm. Waiting for healing like the centurion’s servant in our Gospel reading. Waiting for the realization of Isaiah’s prophecy that swords will be beaten into plowshares and no one will learn war any more. 

Our world is waiting. Waiting for a day when we can be less afraid of the headlines. Waiting for case numbers and death tolls to go down. Waiting for justice to be realized. Waiting for the day when we won’t all feel so exhausted and worn out. And that’s just the global waiting. No doubt we have our own versions of Advent. We are waiting in our personal lives for a change to be realized or a milestone achieved. The waiting is pervasive. And it can certainly be anxiety provoking. Waiting on its own can seem passive. As though we have lost our agency or our influence. As though whether or not anything changes or is realized is all up to external forces and the winds of chance. Blessedly, it is not. 

It is indeed true that there is much that is beyond our control. We cannot simply snap our fingers and make a sick friend well or bring the prophecy of Isaiah to fruition. And yet it would be a grave mistake to think that we are powerless in the face of all the challenges we face, individually or collectively. 

We must also remember that Advent is a season of preparation. There is indeed much we can do. We can be a light in the midst of darkness. Our presence, our work, our relationships matter. We do and can have an impact far larger than we often give ourselves credit for in day to day life. 

I have been listening to a book by British Organisational Psychologist John Amaeci called The Promises of Giants. It is a book about leadership, but it is markedly different from so many other books about leadership. It starts with the premise that we can “win” and “lead” wherever we are in life or in an organization. It also starts with the idea that our impact is enormous. We all are and have the capacity to be “giants” to others. I have found the book to be funny, engaging, and full of valuable insights. At first, John’s belief about the enormity of our impact was hard to hear. Did that mean we have to be over vigilant and second-guessing everything? By no means. Rather John reminds us that our impact, our ability to enact real change in ourselves, our communities, and the world is not about splashy moments that make headlines (although those certainly can have a profound impact). Most change happens through discipline and hard work. It happens because we set audacious goals and strive to achieve them. It happens when we are willing to do the day to day work that is often behind the scenes and unglamorous. It happens when we hold ourselves and each other accountable to inspiring standards. We have a profound impact because of who we are and the habits we have. Because of how we move through the world. We are indeed powerful, and it is up to us to decide how we use that power.

In the midst of this season of waiting, in the midst of all the challenges, it could be easy to give into fear or to buy into that critical voice that says that what we do doesn’t really matter. I hope that this Advent we will do neither. I hope we will pay careful attention to all the ways that light and love are alive in the world. All the ways in which the kingdom is breaking in. And I hope we will feel energized and inspired to be reminded that God is Emmanuel, God is with us. The Christ light is within each of us. We can indeed bring the light into the world. Together, with God, with each other, transformation is possible. Amen. 

Seek God, Beloved

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom

Ambrose, December 7, 2020

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

Our saint for today only became a bishop because everyone was fighting. Our Scriptures are full of stories of people being beaten and cut into pieces. Blood. Abominations. Gah. Enough already God. Don’t you know we are in the middle of a pandemic? Don’t you know that we have plenty of terrifying news headlines, without needing to read about gruesome horrors in our sacred texts. We are not currently in need of reminding that humanity is capable of terrible things or how fragile and uncertain life is. We are surrounded by that truth. 

We need solace. We need comfort. We need hope. There is a long road ahead of us out of our current crisis. It may even get worse before it gets better. We need the joy, the sense of possibility, the light that will sustain us through the present darkness. And that seems hard to find today. Until I go back to our Psalm. 

Our portion for today closes with the line, “You speak in my heart and say, "Seek my face." *

Your face, Lord, will I seek.” Ah there it is. The reminder to connect with God. To connect with our heart. To see God. 

I am reminded of the closing song of Les Miserables, when Jean Valjean is dying. The line that has stayed with me, perhaps more than any other line from that musical: “And remember the truth that once was spoken, To love another person is to see the face of God!” Yes. Indeed. That is where we meet God. In each other. To seek the face of God is to seek out Love. It is to seek out connection. It is to be present with one another. 

The griefs are many in this time. They are personal. They are communal. They are global. But we do not bear them alone. It is Advent. It is the time we are reminded that God is with us. Emmanuel. God with us. And we know this truth because we can see God in the faces of those we love. We can bear these challenges, because burdens become so much lighter when they are shared. 

Take heart my friends. Even in the midst of all the challenges. Even in the midst of the grief that weighs heavily on our hearts these days. Even when we cannot be physically present with one another. The connection remains. The truth remains. The Love is there. We can see each other. We can see God. We can know, in a smile. In a laugh. In a kind word. In a gaze. That we are beloved. We are beloved of God. No trial or tribulation can change that fact. 

Be present to your own heart in these days. Listen for God’s voice. Seek God out. Reach out. Connect with those you love, so that you may show them God’s face. And be present to them, so that you too may see God. And God’s presence will carry us today and always. Amen.