“Love Always Leaves a Mark”

Second Sunday of Easter

April 27, 2025

God’s wounds.

Acts 5:27-32

John 20:19-31

Those of us who have been around long enough have seen just about every type of approach when it comes to a funeral service. From full-blown parties to no service at all. From cremation to open casket to private viewing. Here’s the thing about funerals that many people don’t really understand. As flesh and blood beings, we need something tangible in order to say goodbye—in order to make things real.

That’s why sacraments are so important in the church. Communion and Baptism aren’t just concepts. They’re not just words. We rely on ‘stuff’—water, bread, wine—to help us make them real. To give us something to hold onto.

Thomas and the disciples were there when Jesus was buried. They likely helped transport his lifeless body to the tomb. His death was incredibly real. It wasn’t just the death of an idea—it was the death of a friend. So, when Jesus appeared to the disciples behind the doors of a locked room, it’s understandable that his first words had to be, “Peace be with you.” It’s okay. It’s me. And it’s okay.

And it’s understandable why Thomas had his doubts. He saw the body. He saw the wounds. He saw the stone rolled over the entrance. Nothing about what the other disciples said was okay. Nothing about it was real. It was just a story—a delusion. “I refuse to believe until I touch his body—wounds and all.” And when he did have that opportunity, he recognized Jesus as God.

Here’s the thing about doubts and questions. We’ve been told our whole lives that true faith doesn’t make room for them. So, though everyone has doubts and questions, we stuff them down and put on a face of certainty and go to church. And we see faces of certainty all around us. And we just pray no one else sees us as the frauds we are.

God bless Thomas for having the courage to say what he was thinking. But what about the rest of us? What about those of us who don’t get the opportunity to touch Jesus’ wounds? What about those of us who have grieved our own losses and wonder where God was in those moments? What about the ones who can’t muster up the energy to believe some story told long ago about a guy who miraculously came back from the dead? And what does that have to do with my pain? My loss? My grief?

Jesus says, “Blessed are the ones who believe and have not seen.” That’s not a statement of favor for those who can somehow conjure belief in something unreal without proof. It’s a statement of how belief—and doubt—all live together. How seeing and believing is valuable. And how not seeing and still believing is equally valuable. How the road to faith isn’t straight or easy. And how most of us navigate doubts and questions on a daily basis.

I just did a lecture about doubt with the Catechism class on Wednesday. I asked them what questions or doubts they had. They have the same ones we all do. Who made God? How could Noah’s Ark be real? Why did God put a tree that humans couldn’t eat from in the garden, anyway? Great questions. Not all have ready answers. And that’s okay.

It’s okay to doubt. It’s okay to question. It’s okay to get angry with God. It’s okay to not believe everything you hear. Faith doesn’t rely on certainty. It relies on relationship. That’s why we gather every week—to be in relationship with God and one another. Because we all have our doubts. And when we do—when we can’t believe for ourselves—we can lean on the community who believes for us.

And when we don’t believe in God, we can hear—in our music, in our prayers, in our fellowship—that God still believes in us. That God’s suffering in Christ IS the suffering of humanity. That God has always been with us in the pain. There’s a scene in the movie, ‘The Shack’, where Mack challenges God. He asks God where she was when his little girl was abducted and killed. He asks God where she was when Jesus was arrested and killed.

And God shows him her hands and the scars they bear. She says, “You misunderstand the mystery. Don’t ever think that what my son chose to do didn’t cost us both dearly. Love always leaves a mark. We were there together. I never left him. I never left you. I never left Missy.”

Our lives are fragile. Pain is real and unfair. And God doesn’t rescue us from our lives. If God did that, we would be God’s puppets. And that’s not love. Instead, God enters our pain with us. God doesn’t leave us. God bears our scars and holds us tight as we go through it all. Because Love always leaves a mark.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE