Acts 5:27-32; John 20:19-31

John Calvin, in his commentary on this passage from John’s gospel, makes several important points. First, Calvin addresses the presence of the Holy Spirit and its’ purpose – to empower humans to preach the gospel and to undertake Christ’s ministry of reconciliation. Our ability to bear witness to the resurrection comes entirely from God. Second, Calvin says that the sole purpose of our ministry is to speak to the forgiveness of sins that is freely available through unmerited grace. Only those who refuse to hear, to repent, and to believe the gospel remain subject to their sins. We do not retain the sins of any. That we are reconciled to God is the substance of the gospel. That some refuse that reconciliation is a by-product of their reaction to our preaching, and not the purpose of our preaching. In other words, we have a single task – to offer forgiveness – with a single purpose, that folk who wish to be reconciled to God may freely do so.

More often than not, it seems to me, people mobilize, or take action, when they are against something. We see that in the civic and religious resistance to Christ throughout the gospels. This should tell us that the voice of the Spirit does not call us to rise up against something. Instead, the Holy Spirit calls us to stand up for something – the teachings of Christ, the love of God, and the ministry of reconciliation that offers the forgiveness of sins.

Why is there evil in the world? Why do human beings treat one another so poorly? What is the solution? Many would like to believe that church is the answer. Yet, many others in our culture have only seen the church standing against something or someone rather than for one another and all others. This is the difference between many religious practices and the faith of Jesus Christ. You see, the ministry of reconciliation doesn’t say, “So long as you’re doing this, or so long as you’re not doing that, I won’t support you.” Instead, Christ says, “Here I am to offer my support; how can I help?” He stood for people, and not against them. Religious authorities of Christ’s day opposed the way the people thought and the way the people lived. Christ, however, lived with them, and thought with them, and by becoming a partner with them in the way they lived and thought, he changed the way they lived and thought, making a difference that makes a difference.

Thomas represents a valuable lesson for us, because Thomas is “us.” We resist the uncommon and the unfamiliar. We have a natural, willful rebellion within us that teaches us certain things just aren’t possible. Show me, or I won’t believe it. Now, if that’s the human condition, we need to ask ourselves, what is it that we’re showing our neighbors? Are we reaching out to them? Are we accompanying them in their trials and troubles? Are they seeing love in the way we treat one another – a love they would long for?

Often times, the church is called a family. The trouble with that metaphor is that a family has boundaries. Some are in, and some are out. The word synagogue actually means “assembly.” In like fashion, the church is an assembly of people who have come to say, “we believe.” However, it is also an assembly of people who having touched Christ’s wounds, accept their roles as reconcilers. We believe that reconciliation is possible, and our role in the process is to proclaim that God is willing to forgive all, as are we.

When Jesus appears a second time, he has acknowledged the doubts of Thomas. We, too, should be willing to acknowledge the doubts of those within our community who don’t believe that the church has seen a risen savior. Perhaps they need to see our wounds in order to believe that God is able to overcome the pain and suffering with which life afflicts us all. The question remains as true for us as for the first disciples – are we willing to enter the lives of the bruised and the shaken who are not reconciled to God?

I’ve told this story before, but it’s worth repeating. I met a couple from the Bronx last weekend, and we got into a lively conversation – as it turns out, their pastor is Bill Steele, who first told this story to me. It was Bill’s story. It happened while he was pastoring a church in Detroit. His wife and young son (maybe three or four) would be at home during the day while Bill was working, and this is how the story unfolds.

In good weather, the front door would be open with the screen locked. Every Tuesday, the garbage men would pull up in their big truck and the son would run to the door to watch. When they pulled away, he would wave. As it turned out, one of the garbage men saw him waving one day and waved back. After that, each week, the young boy would wave and they would all wave back.

The lad’s birthday was coming up and his mother asked him who he thought they should invite. Of course, she already knew that it would be limited to their close circle of friends, but she asked him anyway. To her chagrin, he wanted to invite the garbage men. Further, he was adamant about it. Not knowing how to say no without disappointing the boy, she asked her husband, Bill, if he would speak with him. But, the boy was just as adamant about inviting the garbage men after Bill tried every reasonable and professional tactic to dissuade him. Finally, he said to his wife, “Well, we’re just going to have to invite the garbage men.” Of course, she was aghast – what would the other guests think? But, Bill thought it unlikely that they would accept the invitation anyway – it would be just as strange for them as for us. Still, if we ask them, our son will be content. If we don’t ask them, though, his birthday party will be a disappointment for him – and maybe we will be too. Finally, his wife agreed.

The next Tuesday, Bill stayed home from work to meet the garbage men. When they pulled up in their big truck, he took his son by the hand and walked down the driveway to the curb. He introduced himself and his son, and rather awkwardly explained that his son’s birthday was coming up, and he wanted them to come to the party. Well, the men shuffled their feet, and offered a few excuses – we may be working that day, or our families may already have other plans. But, they had been asked, thought Bill, and he had fulfilled his son’s request. The boy was happy, even though Bill explained that they might not come. Bill and his wife were a bit relieved.

The day of the party came. The other children and their parents were there. Bill and his wife told their story. Everybody got a good laugh out of it – the story of a small boy inviting garbage men to his birthday party. The boy was having fun at the party, but occasionally, he would look out the screen door to see if the garbage men were coming. About a half hour into the party, he lets out a yell, “They’re here! They’re coming!” Sure enough, parking along the curb was a collection of pick up trucks, and climbing down from the cabs were men, wives, and children. They came slowly up the driveway to the door, and Bill let them in. Introductions were made all around, and as each child was introduced they handed Bill’s son a present – a toy garbage truck. It was the best birthday ever for Bill, his wife, and son.

The voice of the Spirit says, “Come.” It’s an invitation. It’s a welcome. It’s a warm embrace offering reconciliation and forgiveness. Wisdom, we are told, the metaphor of the Spirit, cries out in the streets. She doesn’t decry the lives of those she hails. Instead, she enters their lives and speaks to them of the life of God. This is also what Jesus did – going into places and hanging out with people that the religious community deemed to be sinners, and unclean, and unwelcome.

I mentioned in Sunday school class a few weeks ago that it’s not necessary for us to initiate conversations with others about our faith in order to share our faith. I just spend time with people. I live where they live. When they find out I’m a pastor they generally have some sidebar comment about churches, or how they’ve been wounded by their church, or what’s wrong with the church in general. I don’t argue with them – they’re right. Instead, I talk about what’s important – that we strive to love and forgive. Following Jesus isn’t really that complicated, but it is that difficult. To love and forgive without condition is what it means to bear the cross of Christ.

The voice of the Spirit says it’s possible to change ourselves and the world in which we live by practicing the discipline of love and forgiveness. The invitation of Christ is not asking people to church – it’s showing people that we are an assembly that loves and forgives, and that they are welcome.

(Comments to Michael at mykhal@epix.net.)