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Be my strong rock, a castle to keep me safe,
for you are my crag and my stronghold; *
for the sake of your Name, lead me and guide me. (Psalm 31:3)

As we gather today on the fifth Sunday of Easter, our story today from the Gospel takes us back to Maundy Thursday where Jesus has just finished his last supper with his disciples. He has washed their feet, given them a new commandment to love one another, predicted Peter’s denial, foretold Judas’ betrayal, and told his friends once again that he is going to leave them. “Where I am going,” he tells them, “you cannot follow now.”

In this passage we hear some of the most memorable words from the Fourth Gospel. This scripture is often read when life has upended our hopes and dreams. “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.” “I go to prepare a place for you, so that where I am, there you may be also.” I am the way, the truth, and the life.” “If in my name you ask for anything, I will do it.”

Because these words strike our ears and our hearts with such grace, it can be easy to overlook or even dismiss the notes of confusion and fear, if not downright rejection, coming from the disciples. On this night before Jesus’ crucifixion as Jesus tries to prepare his disciples for what is coming, Jesus says, “you know the place that I am going.” But Thomas counters, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus responds with familiar words that can soften our hearts, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” But the pain, frustration, and fear of Thomas cannot be ignored.

When Philip asks Jesus to show him “the Father,” he reflects a deep longing, even a sense of desperation to experience God’s presence in this frightening time. Again Jesus responds, “If you have seen me, you have seen the Father. “ But Philip’s pain is real. 

These Easter readings seem to be spoken right into our time. A novel coronavirus has taken over our world. Most of us did not see this coming. We didn’t watch Bill Gates’ TED talk in 2015 that warned us of an impending crisis. And even if we did, we could not have imagined the impact a novel virus could have on our health care system, our economy, and on the lives of so many caught up in its pain and suffering. And we do not know how long this will last. We all wonder what our life is going to look like in the next weeks, months, years ahead. And when we can safely begin to reenter the world, what will our world look like? 

Meanwhile, as we shelter in place, trying to care for loved ones close by and at a distance, trying not to be physically and emotionally destroyed by the heartbreaking news, these words of isolation, confusion, and desperation are important to hear. We who are witnesses to these times, can feel this anguish in our bodies. Yes, the words of Jesus that offer hope and accompaniment are true. Yes, Jesus’ promise that God is always with us, is true. And sorrow is true. 

And it is from this perspective that we can hear Jesus’ words. Because Jesus knew sorrow, confusion, and disappointment. Jesus came to live among us and that life included both wedding feasts and betrayal, blessings and pain, trust and longing. Jesus is the Word made flesh who took on our flesh, sharing our life so that we can trust that God not only cares, but understands.

We find ourselves in a time of grief. Grief over lost lives, lost jobs, lost opportunities, lost confidence. Grief does not mean we are unfaithful. Grief is not a denial of our trust in God who loves us completely. And grief is real.

In our fragile moment we may feel as if we have gotten into a very small boat and are setting out on the unknown ocean. We may begin with courage and self-reliance, but we will soon encounter fear. We never know what storms may overcome us or unknown forces that will blow us far off from our charted course. 

It is here where we come face to face with how fragile we are. It is here where we recognize ever more clearly our total need for God and for each other. We can toss out the idea that the pain of others does not affect us. We can toss out the idea that we are self-sufficient and independent from each other. 

In our grief, we cry out with Thomas. “We don’t know the way.” And we can be confident that in our pain we will be greeted with a love that reassures us, Jesus is the way. Jesus is the one that shows us that life includes crosses, but also resurrection. That while tragedy is very real in this present moment, so too is compassion and courage. That though this time feels vulnerable and upending, it is also amazingly tender at the same time. That while there is a deadly virus, there are people, the helpers, who spend all their energy and talent to find a way to help those of us who suffer. 

That while jobs are being lost at a rate unknown in more than many of our lifetimes, there are hundreds of people who step forward to help our neighbors who are hungry, there are hundreds of people who step up to help our families find safe housing, there are hundreds of people who are engaged in helping our brothers and sisters and children find health care, and there are thousands of people who are actively involved in calling on our leaders to provide more financial support for food, housing, and health care for the millions in need. Jesus shows that his way walks through pain, toward compassion and love. 

When we take Philip’s plea in response to Jesus’ pronouncement of his impending departure—“Show us the Father!”—seriously, then we can hear and begin to understand Jesus’ answer—“if you have seen me, you have seen the Father.” Because Jesus shows us God who is not unmoved or dispassionate or distant, but passionately engaged in our life, pledged to our well-being, and committed to bringing us through all things so that we will not just survive, but we will experience an abundant life. This Abundant life—which does not mean an abundance of “stuff”–  is one that leads to life and love and hope and mercy and generosity not only for me and mine, but for all of God’s creation. 

This may feel like a very difficult time to “not let our hearts be troubled.” We have a long road ahead of us, dear ones. But in this journey of faith, even in times of great trouble, we are never abandoned. We travel with Jesus and a great cloud of witnesses–the saints and the angels–and each other who hold us up, give us courage, and guide our feet. When the resurrected Jesus meets the disciples in the locked room on Easter morning, he doesn’t say, “Good luck, now that I have overcome death, life from now on for you should be a piece of cake.” No, he breathes on them the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, the Encourager, the Helper. Because he knows that over and over they and we are going to need advocacy, encouragement, comfort, and help. 

And dear friends, in the midst of this troubling time, let us not miss the opportunity to see what God is doing in and amongst us right now, right here in this new space. 

Let us not miss how God is giving us new ways of being together and caring for each other right now. 

Let us seriously and honestly name our fears and our anxieties, and let us also turn our hearts to how even now, God is leading us to abundant life—God is showing us even in this time of pandemic, how God’s love never fails and must be shared with the world. 

May God’s peace that passes all understanding be with you this day and remain with you always.

Amen