Psalm 133 & John 20:19-31 & Acts 4:32-35
Psalm 133 is very close to my heart. Ecce quam bonum, the first line of the Psalm in Latin, is the school motto of the University of the South, where I did my seminary studies and where I met my husband. Ecce quam bonum, Behold how good, is found on everything from mugs to bumper stickers to gravestones in Sewanee Tennessee, and we sang this hymn at many of our major occasions like matriculation and commencement. Oh, how good and pleasant it is when siblings live together in unity! It is a true saying and worthy to be repeated. It seems obvious, that living together in unity with one’s brothers and sisters would be good and pleasant. In our society that is often lacking in unity, that is bereft of skills for civil dialogue and disagreement, it might sound like a dreamworld. At times Sewanee itself could feel like a dreamworld, a plateau high above the valley below, surrounded by trees and populated with neogothic stone buildings and a mix of college students, professors, seminarians, and the families and staff that made the whole campus run. As a lifelong Episcopalian and church nerd, being surrounded by people who GOT it, who understood what Compline was and planned their weekends around Evensong, people who loved God in the same faith language I had known my whole life was like a little slice of heaven. It was good and pleasant.
Most of the time. My bright-eyed 22 year old self learned quickly that no community is perfect, no matter how seemingly likeminded. Some college students still drank to excess like they do on any campus, and the police reports of sexual assault filled our inboxes after big party weekends like horrendous clockwork. The professors were human beings who sometimes misspoke or wrote punishingly difficult tests or held opposing theological views that made collegiality challenging. The seminarians came from all over the country and all over the world, and our different backgrounds and upbringings and faith languages caused plenty of personality clashes, both in the classroom and in the local pub. I was a first year seminarian in 2016, and after the results of an undeniably divisive election were announced, the campus was nearly torn in two. The faculty and student body of the college had nearly opposite reactions to the outcome. Some students skipped class altogether, while others showed up in proud red hats. Some seminarians showed up with eyes puffy from a long night of watching the results pour in, and some professors ended class early because it was clear no productive work was going to be done that day. Like the rest of the country, it seemed our unity was lost.
But then we worshipped. Like we did every Wednesday, the entire student body showed up to chapel for our midweek community Eucharist, our principal worship as a congregation that all had work to do in different places on Sunday morning. The student choir sang beautifully, despite a last minute pastoral change by the choir director. The preacher gave a rousing sermon, and the hymns were sung with one voice. We all approached the altar at communion, and afterward we sat together around lunch tables as one community.
It wasn’t as if nothing had happened. And it wasn’t the last time something happened in the secular world that sent shockwaves through our community. Nor was it the only time we disagreed with one another’s beliefs or choices. But we kept worshipping together, kept praying together, kept breaking bread together. We were united by our life in Christ, even when we differed. Unity did not require conformity, or anyone’s silence. It only required living together in Christ. Behold how good and pleasant it is when we live in unity.
This is what the apostles did for Thomas, and for all the other followers of Jesus who did not encounter the risen Lord themselves. Thomas was not there for that first visit, and he did not, could not believe his friends. They had seen, and so they believed. He had not seen, and so he doubted. But notice that he was still there, sharing fellowship and lodging with the others. He was still in the house with them, even after a week of what was probably painful division and disagreement. For a week, Thomas held a very different view than everyone around him, had no hard evidence for an impossible story. The others probably tried desperately to help him, to change his mind, to share with him the hope and conviction that buoyed them in those days of uncertainty. They probably argued with him and recited passages of scripture which pointed to the resurrection. They probably reminded him about the raising of Lazarus, and the promises Jesus himself had made, and the impossible story Mary Magdalene had told of the empty tomb. Maybe at times they threw their hands up at his stubbornness, and maybe at times they wondered if perhaps he was right, that they had all somehow dreamed the entire thing. It must have been a very strange and uncomfortable week for everyone.
But they still gathered. They still prayed. They still told stories of Jesus and took care of the people he had cared for. They broke bread and remembered all that Jesus had told them, and they did not leave Thomas alone in his doubt. And Thomas stayed. He kept coming back, kept listening and looking and arguing, as resolute in his faith in his friends as he was in doubt of their fairytale. They lived together in unity, even though there was discord and disagreement among them. And because of that, because they did not give up on each other or leave anyone behind, Thomas was there when Jesus came back. Thomas was there with the others for this shared experience, surrounded by witnesses who could repeat for him the truth that it was not a dream, not wishful thinking, but real. I believe that Jesus would have found Thomas wherever he went, but a skeptic like Thomas needed witnesses, needed a community around him to affirm what he saw or heard. The doubter needed the church to believe when he couldn’t, to repeat the story when his memory faded and the lonely thoughts crept in. And the church needed him too.
There are many places, including some churches, who conflate unity with uniformity. That is not what the church is called to be. The church is not meant to be a place where opposing viewpoints are silenced or slowly edged out. From the earliest days of her existence, the Church has been a place for doubters, for disagreements and questions and the people who push back and demand more of the family of God. Peter needed Thomas, Paul needed Barnabas, Martha needed Mary, and we need one another. Not to reach some idyllic future when we all agree and everyone is nice and happy all the time. But to experience how good and pleasant it is to live together in unity, real unity. Not empty politeness, not flat conformity, not even agreement at all times in all things. Let us live together in Christian unity.
Mother A Writes 