Here we are, all these years after that first Easter morning. Here we are in the triumph of the empty grave, confessing and believing in the victory we have been given over that great enemy, death. And we truly see and feel this victory. Our Lord died on a cross, and the cross now marks His Church. In Christian churches around the world, from small villages in Ethiopia to grand cathedrals in Europe, you will find an image of a cross. Christians regularly wear crosses as jewelry. Some of you are wearing one today. People have crosses tattooed on their bodies. This ancient form of torture, shame, and brutal humiliation is now almost a ubiquitous and frivolous image that we do not even give much thought to.
There are some who will ridicule Christians for this. That is, they will see the jewelry and tattoos and question whether this is a confession of faith or just an empty image. Do we even think about it when we grace our bodies with such things? But there is something wonderful about it. The cross was a form of capital punishment, a style of execution perfected by the Romans that was so brutal it was deemed unfit for Roman citizens and reserved only for the conquered and the foreigner in their midst… and we wear it joyfully. We even mark our worship space with it, for its power is emptied, its terror is dismissed in the empty tomb. There is a fearlessness before this image of death for the people of God. It has now become the banner of our fellowship.
Yet, the reality of death is not completely removed. Many years ago, I used to visit a man named Harold Markow. One day, we were discussing his life, his conversion, and his coming to faith. He began to talk about the war. I knew he had fought in World War Two, but he had never said much about it. That day, I learned he was one of the thousands of men who stormed the beaches of Normandy as part of Operation Overlord. He said there was no rhyme or reason to who lived and who died. You just charged up the beach, assuming it would not be you who died that day, even as death lay out all around you. His questions had no honest answer. Why them and not me? The specter of death came front and center, which began a journey that eventually led him to the words of Christ and the promise of the resurrection.
It is a promise we hear again this morning in the account of our Lord’s appearances to His disciples. On that first Easter Sunday, the disciples are locked away in fear and terror. Jesus has been crucified and they are trying to figure out what to do next. But suddenly, Jesus appears in their midst with a message of peace. There, He sends out His Church. The message of what He has done through His death and resurrection is to now go out to the world through their mouths. He says, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of anyone, they are forgiven; if you withhold forgiveness from anyone, it is withheld.” The Church will forgive. The church will set the captives free.
We are also told that one of the disciples was missing. Good old Thomas was absent, but the others eagerly told him what they saw. “Thomas, we have seen the Lord. He showed us His hands and His side. He gave us the message of peace. He has sent us out to forgive as we have been forgiven.” But Thomas does not believe. Thomas wants the same proof they received. He wants to put his finger in the marks of the nails and his hand in the side where the spear pierced Jesus’ flesh. He is full of longing and desire. Can it be true? Can his Lord be alive? Is there victory over the grave? How often have such questions been on our minds as well?
We are then told that the next Sunday, they were all together again. This time, Thomas was there, and again, Jesus arrived in their midst. “Peace be with you,” He says. Then, with incredible compassion, He looks directly at Thomas and provides him with what he needs. “Put your finger here,” He says, “and see My hands; and put out your hand, and place it in My side. Do not disbelieve but believe.” Now, the text never says Thomas does this, that he inspects the wounds of our Lord. Rather, having heard the word of peace and seen our risen Savior, he makes the great confession of the Church, the confession we still hold today. “My Lord and my God.” He confesses this is the Lord. In fact, he confesses this is God standing right there in that room.
Jesus asks, “Have you believed because you have seen Me?” for the confession is beyond what the eye beholds. He confesses the truth of the Gospel. We are told by John in his gospel that, “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God,” and here Thomas says, “Amen!” to all of this. This is God. He is God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God, begotten not made. But now the work of the Church is to go forward. The sending of the apostles has begun. So, he says, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” Blessed are those who receive the Word and so believe. Blessed then are you gathered here today.
The Word made flesh has done His work. The Word has borne the sins of the world. The Word suffered and died for you. The Word has risen from the dead, never to die again. And this Word now comes to you. We read how Jesus did many other signs which are not written in this book, but these words are written for you. These are written for all those who have not seen. They are, “Written so you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in His name.” The same Word that became flesh and dwelt among us is the Word who now calls you by name, calls you to believe.
What Harold found hiding in foxholes halfway around the world is what we are given here and now. In a world where death still haunts us, where we are well acquainted with grief and tears, there remains a promise of life. Into His name you have been baptized. There you have already died and risen with Him. So, you begin a new life, a life marked by a cross, a life lived in the confidence of the empty tomb. And like those disciples gathered and locked away, we still gather on Sundays. We come not in fear but in hope and confidence. And again, we hear His Word of peace as our Lord arrives in Word and Sacrament to heal, comfort, and forgive. Blessed are you, my friends, for you have life in His name.
