Second Sunday of Easter; March 31, 2008; Bethel Lutheran Church, Rochester.
John 20:19-31.

Dear Friends in Christ, Grace to you and Peace, from God our Father and our Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ. AMEN.


So what in the world would happen if you tried to hide an African American nightclub singer in a convent full of mostly old, white nuns? Those of you who have seen “Sister Act”, a movie starring Whoopie Goldberg, remember this hilarious, if far-fetched, escapade.

The nightclub singer from Reno, NV, named Delores, has an illicit relationship with a crime boss named Vince, eventually witnessing a murder. Delores has finally had it with this tenuous and criminal way of living. Vince has threatened her life, so she decides to testify against him and put him away for life.

But since Vince is a powerful man with connections that reach even into the police department, Delores needs protection. The officer in charge decides to hide her until the case is ready for trial. Inexplicably, he chooses the convent in California. Get this picture—a black nightclub singer with hair the size of a bushel basket hiding in a convent full of old, white nuns with habits pulled tightly around their faces.

Immediately Delores is given a habit to wear, a cell in which to sleep, rules by which to abide, and a new name—Sister Mary Clarence. The rest of the film is an enchanting tale of discovery and new life. Anyone who has seen the movie marvels over the revitalization of this rundown and sour convent. What one may fail to appreciate is the change that comes over Delores, too.

The enormous conversion is done through music. The former lounge singer, Mary Clarence, is given the task of directing the choir, a truly awful combination of lack of direction and lack of imagination. One thing Mary Clarence does not lack is imagination. Immediately she turns the choir into a centerpiece for the church connected to the convent. They sing upbeat numbers. People start flocking to the church. As well, Mary Clarence leads the nuns out into the community so that they can do something other than pray and sing. They spread their ministry in a tough community so that is becomes less formidable and more hospitable.

Through it all the nuns are amazed and thrilled. Their singing becomes better and better. They delight in the full church in which to sing. They enthusiastically take on the challenge to be a part of the larger community. They come to know the faith in a way that they have never known before.

But one cannot ignore the transformation of Mary Clarence. Entering the convent as a sleazy lounge singer, Mary Clarence comes to know a group of women deeply committed to the faith. While they lack direction, they don’t lack heart. While she doesn’t ever in the movie exactly profess faith in Jesus Christ, the songs that she leads do express that living faith: “I will follow Him, wherever he goes”; “I’ll be ever near him”; “Nothing can keep me away from his love.”

Delores is a changed woman, and is perhaps closer to being Mary Clarence than the informer that originally sought protection amongst the nuns. When the movie begins, she is all for herself. By the end of the movie, she is willing to risk her life for the rest of the nuns, and the nuns are willing to risk their lives for hers. Nothing can keep them away from the love that they have for each other. They all know the faith in a fresh way.

The apostle Thomas in our lesson from John today could have used the same vitality of faith reawakened in that convent. But, faith probably wouldn’t have been enough for Thomas. He wanted to know for sure.

You will recall that Thomas was absent the first time that Jesus appeared to the disciples on the evening of the resurrection. When Thomas came back to the gathering, the other disciples told him excitedly that they had seen the Lord. Thomas told them that he would not believe until he had physical proof. He wouldn’t believe until he could put his finger in the nail holes and touch his hand to Jesus’ side. He was not going to let the word of anyone else suffice. He wanted to know for himself.

But knowledge is a tricky thing when it comes to this faith business. Jesus brings it up in the presence of Thomas. Says Jesus, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

The story is told of a Chinese farmer who had a horse. One day the horse ran away. His neighbor came and said, “That’s a shame that you lost that horse. It was so valuable.” The farmer said, “Well, who knows? How can you tell?”

The next day the horse came back and brought with it a dozen wild horses. The neighbor came over and said, “How wonderful that your horse could escape and then come back and bring a dozen wild horses with it. Now you are a indeed a rich man. That’s a gift of God.” The farmer said, “Well, how do you know? Who can tell?”

The next day the farmer’s son broke his leg riding one of the wild horses. The neighbor came over and said, “That’s a terrible thing to have happen. That’s awful.” The farmer said, “Well, how do you know? How can you tell?”

The next day the army procurement department came by to pick up the son to join the Chinese army. He wasn’t able to go because he had a broken leg. The neighbor said, “My, that’s wonderful, isn’t it?” The farmer said, “I don’t know. How can you tell?”

Do you sense how this exchange could go on forever? Thomas could have been placed in that kind of position had not Jesus come back a week later and allowed Thomas to touch his hands and his side. Otherwise, would Thomas have been reduced to saying, “I don’t know. How can you tell?” Would he have said, “I will follow him wherever he goes…only if he allows me to see and touch him”?

This faith business can be tricky. We want to know for ourselves whether or not something is true. Like Thomas, we may want to have an actual person in front of us so that we can be confident in our faith. We hear that our cancer has come back, and we don’t want prayer so much as we want a clean physical bill of health from a doctor. We see an economy in difficulty, and we don’t want reassurances from the White House or projections from the Federal Reserve. We want to see gas prices dialed back at the pump and the Dow Jones average climb. We feel a relationship crumbling, and we don’t want to hear words of love, we want action!

Yet we live by faith, not by sight. Mary Clarence had no reason to believe that her charges could sing like angels when all she had heard were frogs. The convent could not have known what they were getting into by harboring a woman from a crime syndicate. The fact that they were refreshed in their faith was due to faith—not to knowledge.

We can even look at faith logically! If faith was a matter of knowledge, we could just read the book, fill out the form, and join the club. Maybe it would be as complicated as IRS tax forms, but we could get it done. We would not need a heart or a spirit.

But that isn’t the case. Even when we sing a beloved hymn like, “I Know That My Redeemer Lives”, we sing with the voice of faith, not reason. The knowledge of our redeemer comes from our faith, not from waiting for the next day like the Chinese farmer, seeing which way the wind will blow.

In this Easter season we proclaim with the wonder of the empty tomb that Jesus lives. That is why John wrote his gospel, so that we might believe Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing, we may have life in Christ’s name.

May you have the same vitality of faith of Sister Mary Clarence and her band of singing nuns, and proclaim with them, “Nothing can keep me away from God’s love.” AMEN.