April 7, 2002

New birth into a living hope

The Rev. Dan Rondeau

Acts 2:14a, 22-32 | Psalm 111 | 1 Peter 1:3-9 | John 20:19-31

"Will you continue in the Apostle's teaching and fellowship . . . .?" we are asked in our Baptismal Covenant. "I will with God's help" we respond. So, what is the teaching of the Apostles?

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. . . ." (1 Peter 1:3) That is the teaching of the Apostles.

"Although you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, for you are receiving the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls." (1 Peter 1:8-9) That is the teaching of the Apostles.

In a few moments we will stand and say that we believe that on the third day after his death, Jesus rose again; and we will say that we look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. And I bet every one of us in this church today, every one of us speaking these words aloud, has doubted the very truth of them. I would make that bet because I do not consider myself extraordinary in any way, and I know that I have doubted the truth of these words, and the truth of the words of scripture that inspired them.

I can tell you that I have experienced days when I did not feel born again into a living hope, or feel like blessing the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, or did not rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy.

Gathering with great pain and sorrow and lots of tears to bury a stillborn infant; burying the fourteen month old son of a couple whose life had been filled with joy at his birth and each new achievement of their boy; watching people I know and have come to love die by inches as a cancer grows or a heart fails—all these and more have weakened and assaulted my belief and eaten at my certainty about the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.

I know very well the doubt of Thomas, and I bet that you do, too. Especially in the moments of encounter with death, and when I am the most honest about my thinking and feeling, I am well acquainted with the disbelief and doubt of Thomas. Certainly you and I have been in the place of Thomas and the others: locked away in fear and despair, counting on the locked doors and windows to keep out further terror and keep together what little dignity and courage we have left.

But I am equally sure that you are here today, despite the assaults on belief and hope, despite the doubts, because, like me, you have had those grace-filled moments, those moments of touching and being touched by the Risen Lord that sustain you through the darkest doubts and the most trying of circumstances. You are here, like me, because the Risen Lord, at the most unexpected times, found a way around the locks and barriers, shining his light into the darkness, drawing near enough to breathe on you, to fill you with Peace, to fill you with courage, to give new birth to a living hope within you.

The family burying the still born child found the courage to risk another pregnancy. Blessed by God they conceived again and a healthy baby boy is now happily growing up in a family keenly aware of the fragility and preciousness of life. Into the darkness and fear of this family locked away in grief, I witnessed the coming of the light and presence of the Risen Lord. With a whole family of faith, speaking our beliefs despite our doubts, hoping in the truth of our faith, I spoke about the Risen Lord and hope and the power of God over death and I witnessed the Lord come where he was not really expected, and leave the gift of peace, and joy, and courage.

Likewise Sam and Leslie 1, the mother and father who buried their young son, (a victim of SIDS), found a peace within their loss that could come only with the breath of God—just like in the Gospel story of today. When they least expected to find Jesus, he found them. When they most wanted to lock him out, he found a way into their hearts. When they were most assaulted by doubt bordering on hatred, or worse, indifference, he touched them.

Yes, I need the testimony of John the evangelist, I need to hear the story of Thomas, but I really need the story of Sam and Leslie to open my eyes to the teaching of the Apostle: we have been given a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Here is the Risen Lord no longer bound by time or place—here is the Risen Lord, in Palm Desert in the family of Sam and Leslie. Here is the Risen Lord breathing Peace into them. Here is the Risen Lord welcoming their touch and in that encounter giving them the courage create a new life. They, too, have found the grace of God, the touch of God, sufficient to conceive again. Blessed by God they are now raising two healthy boys in their home, in their faith.

As a priest and pastor it has been my privilege to be with individuals and families as they work through the stages of death and dying either in their own life or in the life of one they love. I have witnessed anger and bargaining, I have witnessed doubt and outright animosity. I have witnessed bitterness and despair so great as to leave me without words. But that is only part of the story.

Again and again I have found men and women of faith who in their own unique pace and logic move from darkened rooms locked for fear and protection into the light of the day and into the company of family and friends. I have witnessed with my own eyes, heard with my own ears, felt with my own heart, how the Risen Lord still finds ways around locked rooms, barred windows, closed and hardened hearts. I stand here as one who has witnessed the unseen breath of God destroy fear and anger and restore peace. I have witnessed the unseen breath of God drive out the cowardice which desperately bargains for another chance and replaces it with courage and calm and joy in the present moment of life. I have witnessed the unseen breath of the Risen Lord dissolve angry and hurtful words replacing them with words of hope and healing. My best teachers in the faith, my best Scripture scholars, have taught me their lessons with conviction and grace from their death beds.

All of this is to say, let us rejoice in each other. Let us acknowledge the great and good work that God has begun in you and me, the people of St. Margaret's Episcopal Church. Let us acknowledge that the truth of the Bible stories we read here is not to be found in the journals of scholars and the debates about the historical Jesus, but rather is to be found in the men and women and children around us.

The most powerful Gospel stories have been lived by you. The real encouragement of my faith, the belief that Jesus rose on third day, that I will be raised to new life and enjoy the world to come, has been given me by you. My ability to understand the teaching of the Apostles has been mediated by you, by your lives, by your faith-in-spite-of-your-doubts. You have taught me, with God's grace, to look for the Risen Lord among you. Thank you.

Again and again you have taught me, we have taught each other, that when we least expect him, and when we most need him, Jesus, the Risen Lord, just appears. This is the good news.

This is the good news we have to share. Like the Apostles in that first century room, we need to go out and share this good news. We have received that breath of God which gives peace and courage. So let us invite others to become part of our family so that they, too, can come to know the Risen Lord, let us invite them to receive the new birth into a living hope that comes to us in the Risen Lord. May we taste the joy experienced by Thomas, by Peter and Andrew and the others as, in our own day, we step up and share the good news we have received from them. May we taste the joy they experienced as they helped others into that living hope that is in us because of the resurrection of Jesus. May we taste that joy of bringing others to the same living hope, for God's glory. Amen.

1 I have changed the names to protect their privacy.

The Rev. Daniel Rondeau
drondeau@stmargarets.org
April 7, 2002