Like Newborn Babies

Jesu Juva

St. John 20:19-31                                                              

April 24, 2022

Easter 2B                                           

 Dear saints of our Savior~

          It’s a well-established fact that babies like to cry in church.  Or maybe it’s just that crying babies are more noticeable here.  But honestly, I wish I could conjure up a crying baby right now; because crying babies and screaming infants are at the heart and center of this Sunday after Easter.  A bawling baby would be the perfect object lesson for today.

          The traditional name for this Sunday after Easter is Quasi Modo Geniti, which in Latin means, “like newborn infants.”  It comes from today’s Introit, from 1 Peter 2:  “Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk [of the Word], that by it you may grow up to salvation.”  Quasi modo geniti—in the same way that newborn infants scream their little lungs out for their mother’s milk, so should we long for the sweet gospel of the forgiveness of our sins in Jesus Christ.  Just like little babies demanding to be fed—no matter what time of day or night it may be—that’s the way we all should crave and cry out for hearing the Word of the Lord, for receiving His absolution and His holy supper.  In other words, be a baby.  Show off your inner infant.  Demand what your pastor has been called to give you.  And don’t stop demanding it until you receive it.

          Of course, most of us know the term “Quasimodo” because that’s the name of the fictional hunchback of Notre Dame.  In the novel by Victor Hugo, a crying baby is discovered on the steps of the city’s cathedral on the Sunday after Easter.  But the infant is incredibly deformed, with a twisted face and a hunched back.  Not even his mother could love this grotesque child.  And so he is taken in by the church, baptized and named for the day on which he was found.  Quasimodo was raised within the confines of the cathedral to become its bell ringer—the hunchback of Notre Dame.  Only within the church could such a disfigured man find sanctuary and refuge.

          In today’s holy gospel, on the evening of that very first Easter, there were some other Quasimodos—real ones, not fictional—all desperately seeing sanctuary and refuge.  The tiny remnant of Jesus’ disciples huddled together behind locked doors as if they were abandoned babies.  Their spiritual condition was just like Quasimodo the hunchback.  Their performance as disciples had been grotesque.  In a twisted desire to save themselves, they abandoned their Lord when He was arrested—even after they had promised to die with Jesus if necessary.  They were acutely aware of their failures and deeply ashamed of their sin-deformed souls.  Like Quasimodo, they didn’t want to show their faces for shame.

          But into this room of distorted, disordered sinners, the Lord of Life appears.  The Lord Jesus comes to His disciples.  Does He chastise them for their failings and their fears?  Does He scold them for being fair-weather followers?  No!  But neither does Jesus ignore their sin.  Jesus absolves them.  He forgives them.  He pardons their transgression and remembers it no more:  Peace be with you, He says two times.  Peace, shalom, the peace that passes understanding which includes forgiveness, life and salvation.

          Jesus proclaimed peace; and then He showed them exactly what made
peace with God possible.  Jesus showed them His hands and His side—the very wounds by which healing comes—the wounds that satisfy the penalty for all the sins of all people.  His scars identify Him.  The risen Christ was also the Christ who was crucified.  This is no imposter—no ghost—no vision.  His Words and His wounds turn the disciples’ sorrow and shame to joy and peace.

          Every Sunday we gather here like the disciples did—a bunch of Quasimodos—hunched over and hideous in our sin.  Instead of standing up tall in faith toward God and in fervent love toward one another, our sin twists and curves us back in on ourselves.  It fills our hearts and minds with twisted, distorted priorities.  It is a grotesque love for ourselves that governs our thoughts and actions.  We are distorted, deformed, and disordered, which leads us to love the darkness and turn our backs on the light and love of Jesus.

          But Jesus came to seek and save the likes of us.  He doesn’t recoil over our horrid, grotesque condition, but—just like with Quasimodo—He receives us into His church and baptizes us.  He comes to us in love to bring us peace.  He deals with our sin head on by absolving us.  His Word of peace separates us from our sin and connects us to His perfect righteousness.  Just as He showed His hands and side to His disciples, so He gives us His body and blood to eat and drink for pardon and peace.

          But please note that Jesus didn’t just forgive these men and send them on their way.  He breathed on them and said Receive the Holy Spirit.  If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you withhold forgiveness from any, it is withheld.  Amazingly, Jesus not only forgave His “hunchback” disciples; He ordained them:  As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you.  He made them instruments of His forgiveness to others.  He sent these poor absolved sinners out to absolve other poor sinners—in the stead and by the command of their Lord Jesus Christ. 

          We call this authority “The Office of the Keys,” and Jesus still uses it to deal with us today.  Even though pastors are a bunch of spiritual Quasimodos like everyone else, yet Jesus uses them to speak His absolution to others.  Forgiveness is God’s work to be sure; but God accomplishes that forgiveness through a Word placed in the mouth of a man.  Or if it helps you remember, think of God as a ventriloquist and the pastor as His dummy.  The words belong to Christ; the man who speaks them is just a mouthpiece of the Lord.

          Now, one more thing.  We can’t forget about Thomas—Thomas who wasn’t there when Jesus came—Thomas who missed out on the paschal pardon and peace of the risen Christ.  That’s what happens when you aren’t here in worship on any given Sunday.  You miss out on Jesus!  You miss out on the gifts He gives!  When the other disciples reported to Thomas that they had seen the Lord, Thomas didn’t believe it.  Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe.

          Eight days later the Risen Christ reappeared for the sake of His doubting, faithless disciple.  Jesus is the Savior of skeptics.  His Words and His wounds

have the power to convert the most dyed-in-the-wool doubters.  The words and wounds of Jesus lead Thomas to confess His newly created faith in the Christ:  My Lord and my God!  Skeptics, unbelievers, and doubters beware . . . the Risen Christ is coming for you next!

          The resurrection appearances of Jesus continue here among us on this Sunday, much as they did on that Sunday.  When Jesus came to His fearful disciples, He said, “Peace be with you.”  And from this altar, in just a few minutes, the minister whom God has sent to you will say, “The peace of the Lord be with you always.”  To Thomas, Jesus said, “Put your finger here, and see my hands.”  To you Jesus will say, “Take; eat.  This is my body which is given for you.”  To Thomas Jesus said, “Put out your hand, and place it into my side.”  To you this day Jesus will say, “Drink of it, all of you.  This cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.”  In this Holy Communion Jesus says, “Be not faithless, but believing.”

          And as you taste, touch and see that the Lord is good—as you receive the good gifts of Jesus—you are Quasimodos no more.  The sin that deforms and destroys you has been forgiven.  You are no longer hunchbacks, hidden and isolated.  You are healed, restored, and forgiven.  You are equipped to face the challenges that lie ahead.  You are blessed; for that’s what Jesus declares:  Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.  Blessed are you. 

          In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.