Beyond Locked Doors: Embracing Christ's Invitation - The Rev. Canon Perry Mullins Sermon for the Second Sunday of Easter, April 12, 2026

Summary

The Rev. Canon Perry Mullins explores how fear of disappointment often keeps us from hoping, using the story of Thomas and the disciples after Christ's resurrection to show that Jesus enters our locked rooms of fear and grief. Christ's wounds on his resurrected body serve as Marks of hope, proving that while we experience suffering, hope in the resurrection will ultimately not disappoint us. Jesus meets us in our pain and shows us his scars not to demand belief, but to give us reason for it—demonstrating that death did not get the last word in him, and will not get the last word in us either.

THE GOSPEL                                                                                                                                            John 20:19-31

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you." After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, "Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you." When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, "Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained."

But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, "We have seen the Lord." But he said to them, "Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe."

A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you." Then he said to Thomas, "Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe." Thomas answered him, "My Lord and my God!" Jesus said to him, "Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe."

Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

 Artwork:  Incredulity of Saint Thomas by Paolo Moranda Cavazzola 1520 

Transcript

The Rev. Cannon Perry Mullins:

You may be seated. My name is the Reverend Cannon Perry Mullins, and I am very excited to be here with you today. I am Cannon for congregational and mission vitality in the Diocese of Texas, which means that I work on behalf of the bishop for the health and growth of churches, for all the mission work that we do. And you all do a lot of mission work in Alvin, Texas, getting outside these walls to serve others in the name of Christ. And so I am particularly grateful to be here with you this morning. Now, turning our attention to the scriptures, I speak to you in the name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Have you ever caught yourself saying, "Don't get your hopes up." Or maybe when something good is starting to happen, you find yourself thinking, "Well, I just don't want to expect too much. I know I have felt that. " Fear of disappointment is a universal experience, especially when the thing where afraid could go right or wrong really, really matters. Growing up, I remember watching my older sister struggle with addiction and hearing my parents sitting at the kitchen table late at night, saying those very same things. When she showed some sign of improvement, some glimmer of hope, they might say, "Remember, we've been here before as if to temper the good news." Wasn't because they didn't care, it was because they cared so much or maybe this will feel more familiar to you. I have a lot of friends through the years who have had relationships end, and then they meet someone new and they start to have this glimmer of joy and hope and they get excited about a future, but then they start to think, "Well, I just don't want to get hurt again.

I don't want to get hurt again." We think that so often, don't we? We say these things, we think them, we let them settle into our lives, not because we don't care, but because we care so much, because there is so much on the line.

Hope feels dangerous, doesn't it? Especially in the things that matter most. So we learn to manage our expectations and protect ourselves, but consider the cost of losing hope. After the resurrection, that was exactly the disciple's mindset. They had heard the news from the women at the tomb, but they were too afraid to believe it. They were back in the upper room together, and John tells us that the doors were locked because they were so afraid. That wasn't just a physical observation. The doors were locked. It was an emotional and spiritual posture. It means they put up the guardrails. They tried to protect themselves. They were afraid to hope, but Jesus entered into their fear. Not even their locked doors stopped him. He appeared in the room and his first word to them was, "Peace be with you. " He wasn't chastising them for their lack of belief.

He was comforting them. And even more, he was giving them permission to come out of their fear.

Then he showed them the wounds in his hands and on his feet and the spear mark in his side. And it was only then that they recognized him because of his wounds, not despite them. And then they rejoiced. Can you imagine what that moment was like? The runner coaster of emotions, the sadness, despair and darkness, and then the fear, and the confusion at what they thought might have been an idle tail, and then uncomparable joy. I want to note that that joy only came after seeing his wounds, except for Thomas. Thomas didn't see his wounds. He wasn't there. We don't know why. Maybe he stepped out for a little bit of fresh air. Maybe he had to go to the bathroom. Maybe they sent him to the store to get something for dinner. We don't know why, but Thomas was missing. And even with so many eyewitnesses, the people that he trusted most in this world with whom he had lived for years, telling him that this was real.

Thomas refused to risk hope.

"Unless I see the marks from the nails, unless I can put my hand in his side, "he said. "I will not. I cannot bring myself to believe. I won't open myself up to that kind of pain again." But Jesus didn't leave him in despair. He came again a week later, this time for comments specifically, and he spoke those same words to Thomas. "Peace, be with you. "And he gave Thomas a direct invitation into his wounds. "Put your hands here," he said. No shame, no anger, no disappointment. We added that ourselves into this story by calling him doubting Thomas for the last 2000 years, as if we wouldn't have been a little bit guarded about the resurrection ourselves.

Just invitation, suffering, pain, but then a recognition of God in his midst and joy, incredible joy. Here's the thing. Thomas didn't fail intellectually or spiritually. He did exactly what all the other disciples did. He did something very human, something that we all know well. He protected himself from the danger of hope. We also protect ourselves from hoping too much, from hoping too big, from allowing ourselves to believe that things really could change. But Christ's wounds on his resurrected body are the proof that while we experience that pain and that suffering in life, hope will ultimately not disappoint us.

I want to name where we are today. Many of us are feeling trapped by a pattern of sin that we can't seem to break or by addiction that keeps pulling us back or by unhealthy relationships. And we're feeling stuck in these systems that are designed for death and not for life. Our work, our economy, a cultural and political climate that feels heavy and divisive and even more dehumanizing. And I want to name that shared experience, the weariness, the sense that things are not as they should be as they could be, and the powerlessness that comes with it. It's a universal experience. The lie underneath it all says, "This is just how it is. Don't hope. Hope will only hurt you. " But remember, Jesus does not meet us outside of these realities. He comes into our locked rooms, into fear, into grief, into failure. And his wounds for us are marks of hope.

Marx that remain, which means that he has entered into our suffering and that that suffering did not end him.

There is a poem. I know what you're thinking. It's a short poem, I promised. It's beautiful. It's a poem by Sheena Pugh. It's an Irish poet called Sometimes, that she wrote about a friend who is struggling with addiction to remind him and to remind herself that hope is worth the risk. The text of the poem doesn't embody an empty or abstract optimism, but a hard fought and concrete reality that hope can transform us. Here it goes. Sometimes things don't go after all from bad to worse. Some years, Muscadel faces down frost. Green thrives. The crops don't fail. Sometimes a man aims high and all goes well. A people sometimes will step back from war, elect an honest man, decide they care enough that they can't leave some stranger poor. Some men become what they were born for. Sometimes our best intentions do not go amiss.

Sometimes we do as we meant to. The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow that seemed hard frozen. May it happen for you.

What I want you to hear in that poem is the pain and suffering, the context in which it was written, a life scarred by addiction, but hope in the midst of it. Hope doesn't ignore our pain or the risk of feeling it or the fear that we have around it. Hope is spoken into real suffering and not away from it. And the best hope that we have, the only hope in this life that will not disappoint us in the end is the resurrection of Christ. It's those marks in his hands and his feet and the sphere mark in his side as he stands before us, resurrected and glorious, the suffering that did not end him. When you are where Thomas was, where all the disciples were, afraid, feeling small, out of hope, the doors shut in your light. Jesus comes to you and he says, "He's be with you.

" And he shows you his hands and his feet and his side, not to demand your belief, but to give you a reason for it. Death did not get the last word in him, and I believe it will not get the last word in you either. Amen.

Mother Suzanne:

In the blessing of God Almighty, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Be with you today and those with whom you love this day and always. Amen.