April 3, 2005
Keep Your Fork!
Acts 2:14a, 22-32
1 Peter 1:3-9
John 20:19-31
Hope springs eternal, so the saying goes - perhaps nowhere more than in the hearts of Red Sox fans in early April at the beginning of the baseball season. And it all begins tonight at Yankee Stadium. Last year, we hoped the Sox would make it to the World Series, let alone win it all, which they hadn't done in 86 years. We hoped they'd go all the way. And in dramatic fashion, breaking all precedents, they did! Can they do it two years in a row? We can only hope.
People often hope their investments will do so well that they can take an early retirement and live in luxury. But with the fluctuations in the stock market the last few years, early retirement is probably only a dream for most folks. People who have a terrible illness like cancer or AIDS, hope for healing. Sometimes it happens; sometimes it doesn't. People enter into marriages, hoping they will last forever; but at times, their love is shattered into pieces. People develop close personal friendships, but at times lose these relationships because of disaffection or disinterest - or for whatever reason. For many of us, loyalty, devotion, even love have too often been betrayed. We had hoped that something, somebody, some aspect of life could be totally trusted, and it's proven otherwise. When we've had these kinds of experiences, we may have asked: "Where is God? Why has God abandoned me? Does God even exist?"
This is how it is with the Apostle Thomas. He has loved Jesus deeply and has been fiercely loyal - until just before the end, when he deserts him, as do all the others. Through Jesus, he has received glimpses of the kingdom of God that he's never before imagined. Through Jesus, he has come to know himself and even love himself more than he thought possible. Through Jesus, Thomas experiences grace, hope, peace, and fulfillment in ways beyond his wildest dreams. (1) His hopes for an even brighter future are centered in the man from Nazareth. But when Jesus is arrested, tried, and crucified, Thomas' hopes are smashed to smithereens.
Thomas misses the first appearance of the resurrected Christ on Easter evening. The rest of the disciples are cowering in fear behind locked doors, but Thomas is not with them. Where do you suppose he is? Maybe he's gone out to the corner store to get some groceries. Maybe he's gone down to the temple to hear the latest gossip relating to the turbulent events of this weekend. My guess is that he's up on the Mount of Olives, at the Garden of Gethsemane, grieving the death of his friend. When he returns and the others tell him what has happened, he reacts strongly. "Unless I see him and touch him, I will not believe." The doubt that Thomas expresses is not much different from what the others were experiencing prior to Jesus' appearance. In spite of the report of the women who came from the empty tomb, they were still doubting the resurrection. The fact that they were cowering in fear shows the meagerness of their faith. These fainthearted followers do a 180 degree turnaround only after they see the Lord in front of them. "Doubting" Thomas gets a bum rap; they were all doubters.
The doubt Thomas is expressing is not outright disbelief; it's more a seeking doubt, a doubt that wants to continue to believe, but cannot. The fact that he is with them a week later affirms this. The fact that they still accept him, though they now believe, affirms their tolerance in spite of his doubting. There is an important lesson here. The Christian community, the church, must be a place where doubts, questions, skepticism, tolerance, even far-out ideas can be expressed without fear of prejudice or ostracism, a place where questioners, seekers, doubters, wonderers, and wanderers are welcome. (2)
Many of us, I'll bet, at some time in our lives have doubted the story of the empty tomb, have doubted the reality of the resurrection. Perhaps some of us still doubt today. Many of us have questioned various aspects of our faith. Many of us are like the man in the Bible who cries out to Jesus, "I believe, help my unbelief." The church must be a place where we can freely express these feelings, a place where we can struggle together with questions and grow in the process, a place where it's okay to doubt.
The truth of the matter is that it is okay to doubt. That may sound like heresy, but it's not. Doubt doesn't cancel out faith, but gives it a place to deepen and grow. Doubt can renew and enliven faith. The well-known Christian author, Frederick Buechner, says that "doubts are the ants in the pants of faith; they keep [faith] alive and moving." (3) Though doubt can be helpful in the faith process, we know that doubt can sometimes get in the way. If God seems to be among the missing when we cry out in need, if God seems to be less than what we want God to be, if doubt overshadows hope, all this can be very painful. Jesus says that if we have even a small amount of faith, as small as a tiny mustard seed, then we can move mountains with our faith. But most of us don't want to be mountain movers; we just want enough faith to help us keep going, enough faith to give us hope in the midst of the difficulties of life. And doubt can sometimes get in the way.
My guess is that one of the reasons why you come to church, especially all of you faithful remnant here today on what is traditionally called "Low Sunday", one of the reasons you come here is to get some word from the Lord to warm up your faith when it starts growing cold - whether from doubt, fear, skepticism, or whatever. We come looking for a word of hope when things in our world seem hopeless. We come to give and receive help from one another in coping with life. When we are torn by stress, puzzled by ethical questions, or filled with anxiety about the future, we come to be reminded that our lives matter, that God really does care about us, and that there is hope. (4)
Living a life of faith, hope, and love also improves our health, even the aging process itself. I'm not sure who wrote this, but I think there's a lot of truth to it: "Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up interest [in life] wrinkles the soul. You are as young as your faith, as old as your doubt; as young as your self-confidence, as old as your fear; as young as your hope, as old as your despair. In the central place of every heart there is a recording chamber. As long as it receives messages of beauty, hope, cheer, and courage - [then,] so long are you young. [But] when your heart is covered with the snows of pessimism and the ice of cynicism, then, and only then have you grown old - and then indeed, as the ballad says, you just fade away." (5)
We've been talking about hope throughout this sermon, and indeed, this is the word with which I want to end. But before I do, by now you must be wondering (if you didn't hear this sermon six years ago) what in the world the sermon title, "Keep Your Fork!," has to do with doubting or hoping or anything I've been saying. I earnestly hope this will be more clear after I share this story with you. A woman has a terminal illness and is given less than three months to live. Her doctor tells her to make preparations to die, something all of us should do by the way, ideally more than three months prior to our death. Well, the woman contacts her pastor and invites him to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes. She tells him what hymns she wants sung at the service to be held at the funeral home, and what scriptures she'd like read. She also mentions that she wants to be buried with her Bible. After a good discussion, the pastor prepares to leave, when suddenly the woman remembers something else. "There's one more thing," she says excitedly. "This is very important. I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand." The pastor looks quizzically at the woman, not knowing quite what to say. "Does that shock you?" she asks. "Well, to be honest, I am puzzled by the request." She explains: "In all my years of attending church socials, covered dish suppers, any function where food was served, my favorite part was when whoever was clearing away the dishes of the main course would lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It was my favorite part, because I knew something better was coming. When they told me to keep my fork, I knew that something great was about to be given to me. It wasn't Jell-O or pudding. It was cake or pie - something substantial. So, I want people to see me there in the casket with a fork in my hand, and I want them to wonder, 'What's with the fork?' Then I want you to tell them: 'Something better is coming, so keep your fork, also.'"
The pastor's eyes fill with tears as he hugs the woman, knowing this may be the last time he will see her alive. He also knows that she has a better grasp of faith and heaven than he does. She knows for certain that something better is coming for her. At the funeral, people walk by the woman's casket, and they see the pretty dress she is wearing, and her favorite Bible, and the fork placed in her hand. Over and over, the pastor keeps hearing the question, "What's with the fork?" And over and over, he just smiles. During his message, the pastor tells the people of the conversation he'd had with the woman shortly before she died. He also tells them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. He tells them how he has not be able to stop thinking about the fork, and that now, they probably will not be able to stop thinking about it either. And you may not be able to stop thinking about it as well. So, the next time you reach down for your fork, let it remind you that there is something better coming, (6) in the life to come, but also right now.
The season of Eastertide is a special time for Christians to celebrate the ultimate reason for our hope: that Christ is risen and invites us to rise with him to new life. Easter means that it's okay to love again, it's okay to have hope and to live our lives with passion, it's okay, because Christ is risen, Christ is alive! Regardless the losses we've experienced, there is nothing so powerful, not even death itself, that can destroy God's love for us in Christ. The last word in the vocabulary of God is not betrayal, but trust; not despair, but hope; not death, but life. Christ is risen and invites us to rise with him to new life. This is not just a promise that there's something better coming in the life to come, but also, something better coming in life right now.
I want to conclude with a litany, and I need your participation. Each time I say, "There's something better coming," I'd like you to say, "keep your fork!" Okay? Eastertide is an invitation to try again with God's help to break that addiction we had given up all hope of ever breaking. There's something better coming; keep your fork! Eastertide is a chance to work at renewing that relationship that has really soured. There's something better coming; keep your fork! Eastertide is an opportunity to reach out to our neighbors who, in our busyness, we've neglected. There's something better coming; keep your fork! Eastertide is an invitation to look at our lack of love and let Jesus teach us about true compassion. There's something better coming; keep your fork! Eastertide is a chance for all who've given up hope to regain their vision of what can be. There's something better coming; keep your fork! Eastertide is when we can embrace our doubts but not let them disable us. There's something better coming; keep your fork! Eastertide is an opportunity to renew our faith. There's something better coming; keep your fork! Eastertide is a chance to "renew our strength and mount up with wings as eagles; to run and not faint." There's something better coming; keep your fork! (7) Good job. You know, I've been thinking that the Red Sox are a pretty good symbol of faith, perseverance, and hope after all - and maybe they will win it all again this year. Keep the faith and keep your fork! - for we are all a people of hope! Amen.
The Pilgrim Church of Duxbury
Rev. Kenneth C. Landall
1 Rex Van Beek, E-mail, Midrash, 4/7/99.
2 Les Klassen Hamm, in Aha!!!, 4/11/99.
3 Frederick Buechner, quoted in Pulpit Resource, Volume 27, Number 2, 4/11/99.
4 Michael Duduit, Autoillustrator #462.
5 Submitted by Lance Kittleson, Autoillustrator #848.
6 Devry Nix, Homiletics, Volume 11, Number 2, 4/11/99.
7 Homiletics, op. cit.