The glory of Easter Day is beyond description. Perfect music. Perfect liturgy. Perfect sermon. Perfect flowers. Perfect vestments. Perfectly full church. Perfect. The second Sunday of Easter, though, is the opposite of perfect. All the perfect is gone. Still, that’s where the proof of it all is.
The story for the second Sunday of Easter is about the apostle we usually call Doubting Thomas. He is the one who demanded proof. “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side,” he protested, “I will not believe.” And, of course, that’s exactly what Jesus then invited him to do. And Thomas believed.
It’s a curious thing to me that the resurrected body of Jesus is still also the crucified body of Jesus. The resurrected body of Jesus is still marked by the wounds of the nails and the spear. Easter does not make those disappear. The liturgy of Easter Day may be perfect. The body of the risen Christ remains scarred. No amount of glory makes that different. In fact, that is the proof.
I sat in church Easter morning overwhelmed by the glory of it all, and I wondered about the work I do. I wondered about the children in South Africa and the poverty they face and the violence they face and the abuse they face. It seemed so much the opposite of the glories of Easter, so imperfect, so scarred. Then I remembered Thomas. Those children are not the opposite of Easter. They are the proof of it.
Bishop Stacy Sauls
Founder and President
Love Must Act