My Grandfathers hands

I am taking homiletics this term, which is a class on the study of preaching. It has been a great experience so far, nerve wracking but great. This past weekend I preached my first sermon here in Saskatoon at Redeemer Lutheran Church. Pastor Jay was an awesome person to work with and to learn from. I am grateful for his listening ear, advice, and excellent feed back durning the process of writing. Writing a sermon is no little or night task but I survived with the help of the Holy Spirit and my very supportive colleagues and friends! Thanks to everyone who came and listened and offered support and encouragement while I was writing it. I truly appreciate it! 

Below you will find the Sermon I preached at the Seminary today. It is based on the doubling Thomas message found in John 20:19-31.

Skakes

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May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord our Strength and our redeemer. Amen. 

My grandfathers hands trace the earliest memories of my faith. Wrinkled by the passage of time, I would trace the lines of his palms as I sat in church each Sunday morning. His hands easily cupping mine, any ones would have as I was 5, but my grandfathers hands were different.They were larger then life. 

He was a hard working man who had spent his entire career working as a carpenter. Joining the profession long before the use of many power tools, my grandfather knew how to work with his hands. With the span of a baseball glove and the strength of a vice his hands could hold and wield any tool with limitless power. Making hammers look like children's toys as he completed task after task on his work site. 

By the time I came along he had been retired for years, his hands once callused by hard labor were now tender and soft, carrying on them the faintest of scars to remind him of days long ago. Instead of grasping tools and wood,his hands now reached out to greeting congregational members as they came through the church door. Ushering them in with a reassuring hand shake, peaceful smile, and a caring eye, rarely forgetting a name. As I studied my grandfathers hands on those Sunday mornings, greeting and welcoming, I came to see them as I did him. Not only as a carpenter or my grandfather but also as Christ. It was through my grandfather that I first remember experiencing the love, grace, and acceptance of God, and all through the simple act of a hand shake. 

Thinking about my grandfather and todays gospel this past week I began to wonder if this is how the disciples came to know Christ as well? 

The disciples understood what it was to work with their hands and likely their hands told the stories of their lives as well.  As many of the disciples were sons of fishermen they had grown up with the toil of using nets, casting them out and pulling them back in. Hard work turing young men into old as they worked to earn their family a supported living. Perhaps this is why they jumped at the chance to become disciples. Surely following this teacher would beat dragging nets in and out of the water every day. And how much harder could it be to become fishers of all humanity anyway? they had already conquered the sea. 

Maybe what the disciples didn't realize in that moment was that while they were leaving their nets behind to follow Jesus, they were still taking up a mission and a calling to work with their hands, just in a new and different way then they could ever have expected. For Jesus ministry was woven through the working of his hands in people lives leaving a marked impression on all those whom he had met. And the gospels are filled with such stories. 

When the disciples said it was a waste, Jesus chose to reach out his hands lovingly to embrace and welcoming the little children to come to him. Choosing who many would consider the be the least in society to of the greatest importance. 

And again when confronted by a sea of 5000 hungry followers, Jesus took bread and fish in hand, breaking them and blessing them, then instructing the disciples to hand out this amazing feast. Feeding thousands of hungry followers on just a few fish and loaves. 

And when Jarius had come to Jesus, broken and distraught over his dying child, Jesus came to their home, reaching out his hand in a healing embrace, raising the girl from death to new life.  

Walking with Jesus day in and day out, seeing and experiencing such signs of wonder, witnessing Jesus hands working within the lives of those they had been called to serve, you might think the disciples would have known without a doubt that Jesus was not just their teacher but was there lord.  

Yet when the time came for Jesus to face the cross it was as if the disciples had all but forgotten the Christ they had come to see.Beginning to doubt in their own security and role.The disciples choose to leave Jesus, their teacher, their friend, to suffer a brutal death on the cross alone. Choosing to forget about the ministry they had shared and upon Jesus death opting to hide in fear in an upper room where no one could remind them what they had lost. 

And I think this is why this gospel lesson can be hard for us to hear. For within it we come face to face with ourselves. We have all experienced periods of fear and doubt. 

When we lose hope for our selves and in God’s promises for us as well. When we deeply betray others leaving them to shoulder their own crosses as we refuse to take up our own. We expect the worst just as those disciples did then. That all was lost, and that there was nothing they could do to right their wrongs.

Often society tells us that we should expect to be held accountable to the fullest extent of the law. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth, forcing us to try to buy back what we have lost, heal who we have hurt, and undo what we have done to harm our neighbors, family, and friends. But as we all know this is not always possible. As hard as we try, our actions never seem to be enough. 

Much like those disciples hiding in shame and fear, we become fearful, living out of a sense of indebtedness to others and at times we even try to work our way back to a right place with God. But no matter who we have hurt, who we have come to betray, the works of our hands will never be enough to take the sting of that sin away. 

And like Thomas, doubt begins to overtake us.

We doubt that Christ will come to meet us in the midst of our failure and our sin. 

We doubt that in the mess and pain of our lives, that Christ actually wants to meet us bringing forgiveness.

And maybe, just maybe, we doubt that we are worthy for such a meeting at all. 

Yet it is in the midst of these very doubts that Christ finds us. Surprising us by meeting us exactly where we are. Breaking through the walls we put up to shelter our fears. Tearing down what has come to separate us from God. Christ extends his hands towards us offering us peace. Calling us each forward in our state of disbelief to place our hands within his, and to touch his side. To trace the scars of his crucifixion, to see and feel the very forgiveness of our sins. 

This is what Christ has done for us and what Christ continues to do for us. Coming and finding us, when we refuse to be found. Offering us grace and peace even when we have yet to ask for it at all. Christ chooses us just as he chose those disciples in that upper room. Sending us out with the power of the Holy spirit to bring healing and wholeness to a broken world. Knowing full well that we are not perfect, and that in our words and actions we will fall short. But asking us to trust that like Thomas we come to witness that he is the resurrected Lord.

Its not what we expect. 

Nor possibly what we think we deserve. 

But yet it is offered to us freely. 

Redemption and Peace as we are sent out into the world. 

Amen.