Some years ago,
on a hot summer day in South Florida , a little boy decided to
go for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house. In a
hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door,
leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went. He flew into
the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of
the lake, an alligator and had plunged in and was swimming
toward him.
His father,
working in the yard, saw it all happen. In utter fear, he ran
toward the water, yelling to his son as loudly as he could.
Hearing his voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a
U-turn to swim to his father. Just as he reached his father’s
grip to pull him to safety, the alligator grabbed his legs. That
began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator
was strong; the father was much too passionate to let go.
The boy’s brother
heard his screams, got the family rifle, took care of the
alligator. Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital,
the little boy survived. Upon his release from the hospital, a
newspaper reporter interviewed the boy, and asked if he could
see the alligator scars on his legs. The boy replied by pulling
up his shirtsleeves and saying, “I’d rather show you my arms.
It’s these scars that remind me that my dad was never going to
let me go.
You and I can
identify with that little boy. We have scars, too. Not from an
alligator, of course, but the scars of a painful past. Some of
those scars are unsightly, but some wounds, my friends, are
because God has refused to let go. In the midst of your
struggle, He's been there holding on to you. He did not and
will not ever let you go.
A friend sent me that devotional as
a pick-me-up and reminder of God’s care as I’ve been going
through my divorce—to remind me of God’s love for me—hold on
me—even in life’s most difficult times…a reminder of the scars
of God’s love even as I am scarred by life in this world.
As you may imagine, that image has
been a helpful reminder of God’s hold on me during the struggles
of divorce—and I’ll think of it again, no doubt, as other
struggles come my way. It even makes sense as I reflect on
today’s gospel—and connect it to the disciple’s struggle of
faith in the days after the Resurrection.
In reading today’s gospel, I think
the eleven disciples are in a situation not too different from
the boy in that story—caught between two powerful forces—doubt
and fear on one hand—and God’s redeeming work on the other hand.
Their doubts. Those doubts
must have been written on their faces, for that’s the first
thing off Jesus’ lips, “Why do doubts arise in your hearts?”
Notice the doubt is not just Thomas’s face. Thomas: who because
of John’s gospel we’ve branded as “Doubting Thomas.” No, with
Luke, it’s the whole lot of them. All of them swimming in those
post-crucifixion waters—frightened by Jesus’ death and then by
this news that he had risen. They had not seen him yet. Could
they dare believe it? What were they to think? Would someone
be there to pull them out of their doubts and fears?
Along comes the risen Lord…reaching
out to them…and from the first…holding them tight. Showing them
proof to fight off their doubts. He was there, knowing there
was no power in them—nor in any human being—to save
themselves—from doubt or fear or death. Before the crucifixion,
they were 2nd hand witnesses as Jesus reached out and
healed others or cast out demons.. But now…they were the ones
to save.
I find then in Luke’s story an
interesting word change…from the word doubt to
disbelieving. Disbelieving…like flabbergasted.
Those words appear after the disciples have looked at Jesus’
hands and feet. Luke writes: “While in their joy, they were
still disbelieving and still wondering.” Those words seem to me
a shade closer to belief…not “I doubt that,” but more like, “Can
you believe this?” Belief was growing, hope was growing. They
could feel God’s redeeming work holding onto them—embracing
them.
More belief took hold of them as
Jesus ate fish in their presence…and then, then…with enough
belief working, he could open their minds to understand the
scriptures. I see that as a sort of reboot—like we do with
computers. You know, the computer freezes…too much is going on
or programs are getting crossed. Or even better, after an
automatic upgrade of Windows or Norton.
This whole event is a
disciple-reboot. They had been told the good news—programmed by
Jesus’ teaching. They had received downloads of grace as people
were healed or as Lazarus was raised. All that made some
sense a kind of sense before the crucifixion, but it now had to
make sense in a new way…in light of the resurrection. They were
discovering just that.
I say “discovery” because they are
not simply taught, not just told “Okay class, this is how it
is.” No, there in the waters of doubt the truth unfolded in
front of them as Jesus showed his scars the reptilian Pharisees
but also, more prominently and thankfully, he showed his
redeemed body—a sign that evil did not and will not defeat love.
So in their reboot, the disciples
discovered the true meaning of what Jesus had said five
times—that he would die and rise in three days. They discovered
more as he opened their minds to understand the scriptures in
light of God’s newest and boldest work.
They also discovered something about
themselves…that they had more strength than they realized. More
faith than before. The proof—Peter’s knock-out sermon weeks
later in the streets of Jerusalem after healing a known
cripple. All done in Jesus’ name. They discovered they had
support from the Holy Spirit. They discovered that they had new
lives…new work to do. That God wasn’t nearly done with them
yet.
What do we discover? What do we
modern disciples discover as we hear this gospel story again?
What do we discover about God’s hold on us? What do we discover
about being rebooted by God through grace?
For one, I hope that every time in
church is a similar type of discovery for you. To see the risen
Christ—somehow, someway. To feel the embrace of God…that
right now, you are being loved. He is holding on to you
with tremendous passion—particularly, particularly if you are in
the middle of one of life’s great struggles. That passionate
hold of His is what defines you—and not old scars from the
world, nor the traces of pain from the past.
As you discover all that, I hope the
you now only know His embrace, but that you proclaim it. I hope
that every time in church you discover again the rebooting that
God’s grace supplies, a rebooting that gives strength and new
vision, a rebooting that turns doubt and fear into hope…and then
joy.
I hope that you, like the disciples,
or like the boy in the story, see that God is so not done with
you yet. I hope that you discover chances to proclaim His
goodness, his loving embrace, and his saving power—and in doing
so, help others in their struggles, their doubts, so that they
can join the line of disciples who proclaim our Amens and
Alleluias.
