Being Happy in a Troubled Place
John 20:19-31; Acts 5:27-33
A sermon delivered by
Thomas J. Boone, PhD
April 15, 2007

Last week was Resurrection Sunday and it was nice to pull out all our stops. We had the Presbyterian version of high communion, candle-lighters processed down the aisle, the Mills’ family lit our new Christ Candle, many of our families were together, Frank played marvelously, and a choir had assembled to sing the Hallelujah Chorus. Last week, it didn’t feel good to be here, it felt great! Last week, the chill in the air made it seem like Christmas, but there was no mistaking what we were remembering when we shouted “Christ is risen. He is risen indeed!”

Today, we gather on the week after Resurrection Sunday, and things seem different. We don’t have communion, the Christ Candle is no longer new, our families have gone back to their routine, Frank is still playing very well, but we don’t have a choir, and the weather reminds us that it’s Springtime after all. Tradition calls this Sunday “Low Sunday,” not only because of the stark contrast it has with last week’s high celebration, but because it was the custom of newly baptized adults to lay aside their white baptismal garments and resume wearing their daily clothing. On the week after Easter the celebration stopped, and routine resumed.

Christian faith has many ebbs and flows, doesn’t it? One week we emerge from church charged up about our faith, and on the next week we emerge flat, burdened by our troubles. Every now and then we experience moments in our faith that we wish we could hold onto forever, but high points are fleeting; the routine always prevails. When we travel into troubled places our faith journeys can seem a bit tough, the pace feels a little sluggish, and the glow of Resurrection Sunday dims.

I wonder if this was how the disciples felt on their first Sunday after Christ’s resurrection. We have no information about their reaction during the week except that they saw Thomas and told him about what he had missed on that most glorious of days.

Let’s pause there for a moment. Have you ever wondered what it would’ve been like to have been Thomas? I mean, of all the things to miss he had to be absent on Jesus’ appearance in the upper room. He was probably with them at all other times, but this time I don’t know, maybe he was out gabbing with a neighbor, fixing a door for his mother, or was stuck in traffic. The Bible really never tells us what had happened to him, but he had to spend the rest of the week jealous that the others had experienced what he was unable to experience. “If Jesus were really back, then certainly he’d have made sure to have visited me too!” Can you hear Thomas thinking this?

Thomas couched his disappointment in terms that may be familiar to you. He doubted. He wasn’t among the privileged few to see it firsthand, and perhaps he felt hurt that Jesus wouldn’t come see him, too, so rather than cry he became jealous and vented it in terms of doubt. We’re guilty of the same thing. How many times have you seen a friend, loved one, or acquaintance experience something wonderful and while you may be happy for them, does the thought ever cross your mind that you wish it had been you?

Now let’s get back to the story. It’s the Sunday after Christ’s resurrection and the disciples, including Thomas, are in the upper room again. Jesus didn’t say that he’d come back to see them. John doesn’t tell us anything about how the disciples had felt throughout the week. We know only that a full week had gone by without Jesus reappearing.

Thus, John leaves us with a lot of questions. Were they busy telling people about Jesus’ resurrection, or was it business as usual for them? Were they afraid to tell others about it lest they be branded as raving lunatics, or worse still, crucified just like their Lord had been? Were they happy about Jesus’ resurrection? Did they feel guilty for having not believed him entirely while he was with them? Were they afraid that Jesus was going to get them somehow for abandoning him during the final hours of his life?

All these are great questions, but we can answer neither of them with certainty. The only thing we do know for sure is that the disciples were all together in one place again one week after Resurrection Sunday, and then he does it again! Through shut doors emerges the risen Jesus who confronts Thomas with his doubt. Thomas falls humbly to his knees with a confession that would forever change his life, “My Lord and my God.”

Encountering the risen Lord must’ve been an awesome experience, but it was apparently no guarantee that troubles would disappear. In Acts 5, for example, Peter stands before a council of Jewish leaders admonishing him for having preached about Jesus to other Jews. “We told you not to teach in Jesus’ name!” But, the reality of the resurrection had not waned in Peter so he proceeds to teach the truth even to his accusers. Their response is compelling: they were enraged and wanted to kill Peter and the disciples with him. Thomas, years later as tradition holds, was responsible for taking the gospel to India and perhaps beyond where he was martyred for his faith in Christ. That’s a long journey from doubt in a locked upper room.

What may be our greatest joy could be another person’s reason to mock, defame, or set our churches on fire. As Jesus told the disciples in his last words to them, “If the world hates you be aware that it hated me first...if they persecuted me, they will persecute you” (Jn 15:18-19). If we’re doing things right as Christians we’re going to face trouble in this world. Evidently, though, this didn’t dissuade the disciples in their vigor for the faith after they had encountered the risen Lord. They were able to be faithful during their troubled places.

All this leads me to wonder something. What happened to transform the disciples from a group of fearful and non-committal people to those who would confidently and courageously stand up even to death and defend their faith in Jesus? This was a radical transformation in them, and it’s hard for some of us to relate to it.

What is easier to understand for most of us is their sheer humanity while Jesus was living. We can relate to a man like Thomas who expresses his jealousy in terms of skepticism of what others had experienced. We can empathize with the disciples wondering what Jesus was talking about half of the time, and their bewilderment about why he wouldn’t take a prolific stand as a leader of the people. To my shame as a human I can relate to the disciples running away from Jesus’ arresting party, but I can also relate to Peter’s anger as he struck the servant’s ear with a short sword.

But, then something marvelous happened. Jesus appeared not as a ghost, but as a man in the flesh after he had died. The once crucified Lord was alive again. What about this changed the disciples so that they would never return to the routine, which is what most of us experience in our faith? Whereas we vacillate between moments of exciting moments in faith and the routine of everyday distractions, the disciples seemed never to go back to business as usual once Jesus had appeared to them. It’s not that their life became any easier. They faced troubled places unlike they had ever known once they became Christ-proclaimers. So what was it that gave these men and women the ability to rise above the routine and living fully in the shadow of a resurrected Lord no matter how large their troubles appeared?

“Happy are those who have not seen and yet believe.” Jesus says these words as a retort to Thomas’ affirmation of faith, but they point to a reality in life that Christ wants for us. He wants us to be happy. Some of your translations read “blessed,” which wouldn’t be far off the mark either. What Jesus is promising to those who believe is a manner of being that doesn’t depend on our good circumstances. Happiness, or blessing, is an internal state of peace that rises above troubled places. It’s a heart condition that defies any barriers thrown before it.

The happiness we have in Christ is not illuminated by a smile, nor is it expressed in terms that the happy-go-lucky use. It’s deeper than these. While our circumstances may change from one Sunday to the next, the happiness Christ makes available to us grows like a wind brought upon us from a cold front. It starts as a rustle among trees and grass, then tree branches begin to sway from it, and finally whole trees are moving with its force. The happiness we have because we believe that Christ lives begins small and grows in us as we mature in our faith. I see this happiness here, and oh if we could just hold onto it and let it flourish!

I saw the happiness of Christ when I met with Jo Jane in this sanctuary and we talked about what could become of this place not by looking in the past but by building from here onward. I saw the happiness of Christ in a funeral service for Skipper Brown as I told the family that he had his Bible with him at his death and only people who are alive in Christ have Bibles at their death. I saw the happiness of Christ last week in Larry Brown’s face when he told me gleefully that we had over 100 people in worship, and that was without many of our regulars here. I saw the happiness of Christ when Wes Diamond asked that I give deacons permission to begin new work toward building this church back up again from the inside out. I see the happiness of Christ when I mention that we need two strong services who, in their own way, proclaim the majesty of Christ and the hope we have because of him. I see the happiness of Christ when I ask you who you are and you say with confidence “We are the children of God!”

You are the children the God and never let life cause you to forget that! You are the children of a living Lord, and this city needs this church to be strong. Spring Hill may be large, but it can’t do what we can do. Government Street is too formal to do what we can do. Dauphin Way Methodist is too big to do what we can do. In you is the capacity to reach into the hearts of needy families without money and offer them hope. So do it boldly and with happiness. In you is the capacity to reach into the hearts of mid-town families without a lot of money and offer them hope. So do it boldly and with happiness. There are plenty of people in troubled places, just like us, and we have what they need to make their places of trouble places of hope. Can you do this? I know you can. But, will you do this?

Friends, this is the beginning of the rest our spiritual year. So let’s cast aside all the entanglements and attitudes that weigh us down and keep us from being fully alive and happy in the Lord. Where there is division let’s find unity and recover our strength. Risk reaching across the worship barrier that divides this congregation in order to facilitate two strong worship services to reach as many people as possible. You need them, and they need you. Where there is doubt, let’s prove that Central can get over its broken past and rise up as a renewed congregation. People outside of these walls don’t think you can survive beyond another pastorate. What do you say? Christ died for us to live as happy, and there’s not a troubled place that can take away that blessing from us. Let’s show today’s world that we believe it. Today we join the disciples in their transformation of heart, and vow never again to return to the routine that has bogged us down from achieving what our Lord has destined us to do. Hallelujah. Amen.