The Second Sunday of Easter-Year C (With Holy Baptism)
Sunday, April 27, 2025
The Rev. David Wilcox
Every year on this Sunday, I find myself sympathizing with St. Thomas. Imagine what it must have been like for the apostles: Jesus is dead. They are hiding in a locked room, consumed by fear and guilt. Days of reliving their failures drive Thomas to the edge. Frustrated, he finally says, “Enough!” and walks out.
I imagine him stepping into the sunlight, surrounded by the life of the marketplace. Thomas feels renewed. He stretches his legs, enjoys a good meal, and feels proud of his courage to leave the suffocating room behind. He returns, expecting admiration—and instead, he hears: “You just missed Jesus.”
Bad timing is frustrating. We’ve all had those moments—just missing something amazing. Thomas looks around. Peter stares into space. John and Matthew laugh like giddy children. Philip has tears on his cheeks. Andrew smirks and tells Thomas, “Jesus came! He forgave us! He breathed the Holy Spirit on us!”
No wonder Thomas snaps. His famous line—”Unless I see the mark of the nails and touch his side, I will not believe”—is not stubbornness; it’s heartbreak. He missed the moment that changed everything.
For the next week, Thomas feels the sting. The others are abuzz, replaying the miraculous visit over and over. Simon the Zealot tries to console him, but it doesn’t help. Thomas already knows: for as long as the story is told, it will always be, “Jesus appeared to the apostles… but Thomas was out.”
Yet Thomas’ story isn’t about missing out—it’s about hope. Jesus says, “Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.” And it is because of Thomas’ initial doubt that we hear, for the first time, the fullness of who Jesus is: “My Lord and my God.”
Almost two thousand years after that day when Thomas saw the risen Lord and proclaimed him to be God, we are those “who have not seen and yet believe.” We have not seen Christ in the flesh, yet we believe. And today, in just a few minutes, Paige, Billie, and Maisie will join us in professing that belief in the one they have not seen but trust is risen from the dead.
We have not seen Christ as the apostles did, but we are just as blessed and gifted. Christ’s Spirit fills us now, just as it filled the apostles. We meet Christ daily—in the poor, the broken, the grieving, the addicted, and the lost. We meet him in prayer, in scripture, and in the consecrated bread and wine of Holy Communion. We just have to see him with the eyes of faith.
The Christ who entered the locked room enters our hearts. He breathes peace into our lives. He sends us out, just as he sent out the apostles, to bear witness to his victory over sin and death.
He lives in our hearts, in our church, in the very world around us. He moves the stars and the seasons. He blooms in every flower, cries out in every newborn. He shares in our weeping, our anger, and our joys.
He is in the fields, the rivers, the skies. He is in every act of mercy, every voice that speaks truth, every heart that turns toward love.
Christ knits us together in the womb and stands beyond death itself, calling us to peace and promising us eternal life. He holds the entire universe together—and holds each of us, personally, in his love.
It is not possible to accidentally miss Christ. Thomas’ story teaches us that. Missing him takes effort. Ignoring him takes willpower.
The question is not, “Where can we find Christ?” The real question is, “Where can Christ not be found?”
The Christ who burst from the tomb, who walked through locked doors, who ascended to heaven—he is never absent. No barrier, no sin, no failure can keep him away.
Because we believe, we can see. We see Christ in every moment, in every place, in every heart open to his mercy. We have not missed anything. Christ is here. And he always will be.
Paige, Billie, and Maisie, as you prepare to unite yourselves with Christ in the waters of Baptism—as you receive the new life he offers to each person who believes—remember these things as you walk with the Lord.
The walk will not always be easy. There will be ups and downs. You’ll occasionally stumble off the path and miss the mark. At times, you might even feel like you’re missing Jesus. In those moments, remember: he is always with you. He is there lifting you up, cheering you on, and waiting for you to turn back to him.
Remember that you have been marked as Christ’s own forever, and that as long as you are willing to continue on the journey with him, he will accomplish for you what he has promised. He will save you and bring you to the fullness of eternal life with him in his everlasting Kingdom.
