Sermon: 2nd Sunday of Easter 2025

Sermons

John 20:19-31

Rev. Debbie Dehler April 27, 2025

I know you know this story.  We hear it every year the Sunday after Easter.  We generally take this time to recognize that even though we, like Thomas, were not there that day when Jesus miraculously appeared inside a locked room to bring peace and the Holy Spirit to those disciples present, even though we could not have been there, we can believe in Jesus.

It is comforting to know that we do not need to put our fingers into his wounds to trust in the resurrection.  It is a blessing to know that Jesus was willing to return to that locked room to provide Thomas with the experience he missed.  It is foundational to know that it is okay to doubt, because with doubt we are given the opportunity to ask questions to learn more.

But you all know this.  As a part of the Episcopal Branch of the Jesus Movement, we have become people encouraged to doubt loudly, to inquire boldly, to wrestle with the stories, to see how the context of historical place, time and how political and religious influence impacts how the story was written, and to pay attention to who wrote the words when and to whom.  This Bible is a library of 66 books, plus the Apocrypha, and it helps us understand the depth of God’s love for the world.

What I have found, in preaching on this text for so many years, is that focusing on the doubt and confusion of Thomas, I have chosen to ignore, yes, ignore, something Jesus told the disciples.  I mean, it’s just not comfortable to talk about, because, well, forgiveness can be so complex.

Jesus tells the disciples, after he breathes the Holy Spirit into them, which is another whole sermon for another time, “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

As I considered this, I thought about how easy it is for me to hold a grudge against someone because they did something to irritate me.  I considered how there are times I’d rather lick my wounds than have a conversation with someone who probably unintentionally harmed me.  Or all the times I put the blame on myself and beat myself up reliving the moments, trying to discern the moment I screwed up and ultimately deserved, or didn’t, whatever I got.

And I wondered if the men and women in that locked upper room were thinking about how Judas betrayed Jesus, and ultimately all of them.  I was curious to know if this was what prompted Jesus to tell them that to accept peace, or to shower people with love, they must first forgive.  I pondered this, because I just cannot imagine how hurt they all must have been by Judas’s betrayal. And now that he, too, was dead, they would never be able to reconcile their relationship with him.  Could they forgive Judas of this humongous sin so they could do the work Jesus was sending them out to do?

Then I remembered listening to Kelly Corrigan Wonders last Sunday morning before church.[1]  It’s a part of my Sunday morning routine.  I ask our smart speaker to play WFYI out of Indy, to hear Kelly’s weekly interview.  Last Sunday, as a part of her series on “Hard Conversations: Getting Along When the Stakes are High,” she interviewed Rabbi Sharon Brous. 

They were talking about bridging profound differences to create meaningful connections.  As a part of this episode, they spoke about bearing witness to other people’s pain – and forgiveness.

I appreciated the renowned Jewish rabbi, who could put these two things, bearing witness to other people’s pain and forgiveness into both a religious and a cultural perspective, because, of course, Jesus and the disciples were Jewish.

Rabbi Sharon told a story about how Jews would go to Jerusalem on high holy days, enter the Temple and turn to the right, walking as a group.  But some people, who may have been grieving, broken-hearted, worried, or even made an outcast for something they did that harmed their community, would turn to the left, signaling that they were not in a good emotional place.

What would happen in this space is that any of the people walking to the right could stop any of the people walking to the left.  They would ask them about the state of their heart and offer to listen to their story, recognizing the pain of another.  We might liken it to reaching out to a friend when we see they are struggling. 

The listener would then offer a blessing, words of hope, or a prayer to help the individual move forward, after being seen and heard.  I don’t know if they turned and began walking the other way, as they might need more time for true healing.

This kindness of seeing someone’s needs, entering their soul space, could become the starting point for forgiveness to begin.

The system for forgiveness, the rabbi says, “is rooted in the premise that we all make mistakes, we’re all flawed human beings, and we have to create systems through which we can re-enter some kind of social harmony.  We have to be able to fix what’s been broken.” 

The reality is, she says, that we often cannot fix it. But she does say, “if we can’t fix it, at least [we can] honestly reckon with it.”

Of course, no one can reckon with it if they don’t know about it.  It is important to note that if we’ve been harmed by another, we need to speak up.  Rabbi Sharon calls it Loving Rebuke.  She says, “When someone has harmed you, you don’t just sit with the pain.  You have to bring it to them, because they are human, and they made a mistake.”  We cannot remain silent, holding a grudge, because as Jesus said, the sin – and the resulting resentment – can cause the relationship to remain broken.

Fixing a broken relationship takes a process, known in the Jewish faith as “teshuvah,” which is a Hebrew word literally translated as “returning.” We might better understand it as “repentance.” 

According to the website, My Jewish Learning, “The process of repentance, … includes three stages: confession, regret and a vow not to repeat the misdeed. The true penitent, … is the one who finds himself with the opportunity to commit the same sin again yet declines to do so. Prayer, charity and fasting are also said to help one win forgiveness.”[2]

A person can sin against God or against other people.  When it is against another person, the only path to forgiveness is to make the wrong right in some way.  For some that is proof that the behavior has changed along with an apology to the victim.  Then the victim can offer forgiveness.

It’s quite a process, and it can take significant time. But in the meantime, it is helpful to remember the dignity of every human being, even if we are hurting.

Rabbi Sharon talked about how some Jewish people keep two pieces of paper, one in each pocket.  One says “I am but dust and ashes” as a reminder to live with humility and humanity.  Kind of like the ashes we place on our foreheads on Ash Wednesday that remind us that we are here for a finite amount of time, so we need to live with love and humility, and repent of our sins, while we are alive. 

The other says, “For my sake the whole world was created,” recognizing that we are here for a purpose, just as every other person is here for a purpose.  With this, I am reminded of the Daughters of the King® prayer, I am but one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. What I can do, I ought to do. What I ought to do, by the grace of God I will do.

Each of us carries our mortality and our purpose. Each of us makes mistakes, too.  If we consider the image in the Temple of someone walking confidently to the right and meeting someone hesitantly walking to the left, we acknowledge both the mortality of and purpose in the other person.  We see in them that the breadth of their humanity does not reside in the mistakes they, or we, have made in our lives. 

As the band, Jars of Clay, says in a love song to a growing-up-too-fast child who will, inevitably make a poor choice or two along the way, “You are not what you do.”[3]

In other words, we know that we all can do things that harm, we will make mistakes.  But that is not what defines us or anyone else.  When we harm or when we are harmed, we each need and must offer forgiveness to experience healing and wholeness.

In their discussion about forgiveness, Kelly Corrigan and Rabbi Sharon talked about what many long to say or be told when death approaches.  We want to say or hear these words before they cannot be said: “Please forgive me.”  “I forgive you.”  “Thank you.”  “I love you.”[4]

In their song, “When You Reach the End,” The band Cloud Cult is even more clear, when they sing:

“When you reach the end it's true

life goes on without you
And the last two thoughts inside of you are:
"I'm sorry!" and "I love you!"
And as you fade into a memory,
they'll measure up your heart to see
how much love you kept buried
and how much love you
were brave enough to show.” [5]

Jesus tells the people in that locked upper room that forgiveness is necessary.  He may not say it in these exact words, but I believe his implication is that it is really hard to love one another if we hold onto the grudges, the pains, and slights others have overtly or unintentionally caused us.  I think that Jesus is telling these folks, and us, that when we express our pain to the one who hurt us, they can then follow the Jewish process of repentance: of confessing the sin, of communicating regret, and of vowing not to repeat the misdeed, that when sincere repentance results in honest forgiveness we will show the world how to live more fully with and into the love of God. 

Rabbi Sharon calls it “social harmony.”  When society becomes more forgiving, we may find the true peace that comes from God.

Jesus offers his friends peace as he sends them out of this locked room, back into the world where they will face sin, grief, pain, and misunderstanding.  But with this single sentence about forgiveness, Jesus reminds them that with the help of the Holy Spirit, they will be better equipped to fulfill their ministry.  Because with forgiveness, it is easier to offer love.

Of course, last night, when I went to write my meditation and drew a random word from my box of words, the word I drew was SIN.  Here is the prayer I wrote. 

Let us pray: 

Oh God, our humanity is real when we remember that you are God and we are not. Even though most of us do our best, we will all fall short, we will all make mistakes, we will all put ourselves above others and sometimes even prioritize ourselves over you. We could become paralyzed by our unrealistic expectation of perfection--in others and in ourselves. But you are merciful, especially when we acknowledge our sin, our mistakes, by asking for forgiveness and striving to change, to repent--to turn our lives around and live in your love. Help us, when we fall short, to come to you, and to learn what it means to love you above all else, and to love one another. For the examples Jesus gave us to express love through compassion, respect, humility, justice, kindness, and care are really not that hard to do. We pray in your forgiving name. Amen.


[1] Rabbi Sharon Brous on Kelly Corrigan Wonders episode on Hard Conversations, broadcast played on WFYI, 4/20/2025.  Podcast available on www.kellycorrigan.com
[2] https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/repentance/ (retrieved 1:26 p.m. 4/26/25)
[3] Jars of Clay: Boys: Lesson One.  The Long Fall Back to Earth, 2009.
[4] Rabbi Sharon Brous on Kelly Corrigan Wonders episode on Hard Conversations, broadcast played on WFYI, 4/20/2025
[5] Cloud Cult: When You Reach the End. Metamorphosis, 2022.