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

 The traditional name for the First Sunday after Easter is "Quasi modo geniti," which is Latin meaning, "In the same way as newborn babies."  It comes from the Introit for today from I Peter, "As newborn babies, desire the pure milk of the Word."  Quasi modo geniti, in the same way as newborn babies scream out their little lungs for their mother's milk, that's the way that we should all 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 might be, that's the way that we all should constantly be crying out for absolution and the Sacraments from Christ's ministers.

 Of course, most of us know the term "Quasimodo" from the fictional hunchback character.  And there's actually an interesting connection here.  In Victor Hugo's novel, it happens on the first Sunday after Easter that a crying baby is discovered on the steps of the city's cathedral.  Incredibly deformed, with a twisted face and a hunched back, not even his mother could love this tiny child.  And so he is taken in by the church, baptized and given the name of the day on which he was found, and raised within the confines of the cathedral to become its bell ringer–Quasimodo, the hunchback of Notre Dame.  Only within the church could such a grotesque man find sanctuary.

 In today's Gospel, on the evening of the very first Easter, there were some other Quasimodos, real ones, all desperately seeking sanctuary and refuge.  This tiny remnant of Christ's disciples huddled together within the confines of a locked room as if they were abandoned babies.  Spiritually speaking, these men were no more appealing than Quasimodo the hunchback.  They had all gotten twisted out of shape by sin, especially their own sin of abandoning their Lord in the Garden of Gethsemane just to save their own miserable skins.  To a man they were as ashamed of their own sin-deformed souls as was Quasimodo of his deformed face and back.

 Christ's apostles were not only desperately ashamed but also thoroughly afraid.  They were  scared of the Jewish leaders, who they feared would do to them what they had just done to Jesus on Good Friday, especially now that rumors of a resurrection were beginning to circulate.

 It is to this band of Quasimodo-like men, distorted by sin, captive to the idolatry of unbelief and fear, that the Lord graciously appears.  He seeks out His own in love.  Miraculously, He comes to them in the flesh through their barred doors.  For now Jesus' humanity shares fully in the glory of His divinity.  His is a real body, truly risen from the grave; but now it is exalted completely into the majesty and attributes of His eternal nature as God the Son.  And so a barred door is no obstacle.

 Our Lord Jesus comes to His disciples, but He doesn't chastise them for their failings and their fears.  He doesn't ream them out for being fair-weather followers.  Instead He is compassionate.  But He doesn't just simply say that there's no problem with what they have done and left undone.  He does not say that they can just forget about it, put it behind them, and let bygones be bygones.  He doesn't pretend their very real sin never happened.  Instead Christ absolves them.  He forgives them and lets them loose from their sin.  He pardons their transgression and remembers it no more.  "Peace be to you" He says, twice.  Peace, Shalom, the peace that passes all understanding and which gives wholeness, life, and salvation.

 And to help them believe that His Word of Absolution is true, Christ shows these men His pierced hands and side.  For these are the very wounds by which healing comes.  These are the things that make for peace with God the Father, the wounds that satisfy the penalty for all men's sins.  The marks in Jesus' hands and side give evidence that He is the same man who was on the cross.  This is no impostor.  This is no ghost.  This is the same one who suffered for the sins of the world, who was put in the grave, who conquered death and is now alive in the flesh to give out His life to a dying world.  Jesus is known by His scars.  His words and wounds turn the disciples' sorrow to joy and their fear to peace.

 You are just like the disciples.  You are in the same situation.  This gathering here is a gathering of spiritual Quasimodos.  Every single one of us is hunched over and hideous in our sin, which instead of straightening us up in faith toward God and love toward our neighbor, curves us back in on ourselves.  It fills us with twisted priorities.  Our souls are distorted and deformed by love for the things and the ways of this world.  And so we lock ourselves away in our own little worlds where we think we've got the situation under control, but in fact the situation is controlling us.

 However, Jesus does not recoil and wince at the sight of people like us.  Rather, like the fictional Quasimodo, He receives us into His church and baptizes us.  He comes to us in love and compassion to bring us peace.  He enters into our very midst, not because we asked Him into our lives, but because He chooses to in grace.  He doesn't just gloss over our sin or say it's no big deal.  He deals with it head on.  He absolves us.  His word of peace forgives us and lets us loose from our sin.  He also shows us His wounds very tangibly in the Sacraments.  The resurrection appearances of Jesus still continue in the church.

 But they occur now in a different way, a way that Jesus Himself instituted.  He said to the disciples that first Easter evening, "As the Father has sent Me, I also send you."  And He breathed on them and said "Receive the Holy Spirit.  If you forgive anyone his sins, they are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven."  This was the disciples' ordination day.  Amazingly and oddly enough, not only did Jesus forgive the "hunchback" disciples, He also made them instruments of His forgiveness to others.  He made these poor absolved sinners into His absolvers of other poor sinners.  In this Gospel Christ establishes the Office of the Keys, the Office of the Ministry, in which He is present not just with the apostles but to the end of time to bestow His forgiveness and life.  That's why we confess in the Catechism, "I believe that when the called ministers of Christ deal with us by His divine command, in particular when they exclude openly unrepentant sinners from the Christian congregation, and absolve those who repent of their sins and want to do better, this is just as valid and certain even in heaven, as if Christ our dear Lord dealt with us Himself."

 Christ our dear Lord still deals with us Himself through His holy ministry.  Even though pastors are a bunch of Quasimodos like anyone else, yet Jesus is truly present in His office of the ministry to forgive penitent sinners.  Martin Luther wrote that the Absolution is "a work which God does, when He absolves me of my sins through a Word placed in the mouth of a man."  To use something of a crass example: it's like when a skilled ventriloquist speaks invisibly through his dummy.  The spoken words are Christ's, the man who speaks them is just a mouthpiece of the Lord whose minister he is.  Jesus is in the business of borrowing mouths and hands to proclaim and give out His pardon and His life.  So when you hear the words, "I forgive you all your sins . . .," that's really Jesus talking.  When you hear it spoken, "This is My Body; this is My Blood, given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins," that's not just ancient history being recounted, that's the voice of Jesus Himself present and powerful to make His words come true on this altar.  The risen Christ continues to come among us to restore our deformed spirits to the image of God in Him.

 Now, there's one more thing.  Thomas was not with the other disciples when Jesus came.  That's what happens when you skip church–you miss out on Jesus and the gifts He gives.  Who knows why Thomas wasn't there?  Perhaps he thought it would be safer elsewhere.  Perhaps he had other matters to attend to.  Perhaps he didn't want to hang out with that bunch of hypocrites–even though he was no different.  Whatever it was, when Thomas heard the news of what had happened, he said, "Unless I see in His hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe."

 Thomas sounds a lot like the so-called "scholars" I've been seeing on all these Jesus specials recently–doubting the Biblical account of the Passion story, doubting that this or that really happened the way God's Word says, calling the resurrection itself into question.  And, to be honest, Thomas also sounds a lot like us sometimes.  For we, too, want proof.  We, too, seek signs that God is truly with us, that this is all really real.  We often judge our relationship with God by how much we're being blessed.  And if we don't see that this Christianity thing is working for us, we can be tempted to give up on it.  But we are reminded in the Scriptures that it's not what you see but what you hear that counts.  It is written, "We walk by faith, not by sight" or experience.  And again it is written, "Faith comes by hearing the Word of Christ."

 On the following Sunday, the disciples are together again, and this time Thomas is with them.  Again Jesus appears in their midst and speaks His word of peace.  Again He shows them His wounds, and He invites Thomas to touch them.  "Be not unbelieving but believing."  Jesus' words and His wounds have their faith-creating way with Thomas, and he says, "My Lord and my God!"

 In a moment you also will hear it said in the liturgy, "The peace of the Lord be with you always."  And then the risen Jesus will invite you to touch His hands and His side in the Sacrament of Holy Communion.  We feel the nail marks in His hands.  For with His own hands, Christ Himself gives us His true body, imprinted with the mark of the cross.  And we reach out our hand and put it into His side.  For what was it that flowed from Christ's side but His precious blood?  Therefore, when we reach for the blessed cup of Christ and receive His life-giving blood, we are truly touching His holy side.  Jesus says to us as He said to Thomas, "Do not be unbelieving, but believing."  We kneel before Him and say, "My Lord and my God!"  We, too, know Him by His scars.

 Listen, then, to what Jesus says to you, "You are no Quasimodo to Me; you are beautiful and holy in My sight.  By My wounds you are healed and restored and forgiven.  Blessed are you who have not seen Me and yet have believed.  For by so believing you have everlasting life in My name."

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

(Much of the above was adapted from a sermon by the Rev. + Stephen Wiest +)