In this season of Eastertide we are exploring what it means for us to stretch our “branches” WIDE. No longer will we be content just encouraging our roots to grow deeper and deeper; because of the Risen Christ, we want to begin to stretch ourselves and Share the Story.
This week our scripture reading was the Walk to Emmaus from Luke 24, and then the appearance of Jesus to the rest of the disciples that same evening. In this story we notice some of the very same things that happened in John’s gospel: Jesus appears suddenly, defying the natural order of things (walking through locked doors or just appearing in their midst out of nowhere); He says “Peace be with you;” He shows them his hands and feet; He opens their hearts to the scriptures; He commissions them. In John, Jesus breathed the Holy Spirit into them. In Luke, the disciples are reminded that they will be receiving power from on high (and that happens just as promised in the exciting sequel to Luke: Acts).
I am captivated by the detail that each time the risen Christ makes an appearance, he shows his hands and feet. We don’t know if they bear open wounds or rather healed up scars as the disciples look upon this: in John his wounds are fresh because Thomas places his hand in Christ’s side; but in Luke we only hear that he “Shows them his hands and his feet.”
That bears great meaning for us. If it is through the wounds or scars on Jesus’ hands and feet that the disciples come to believe, why is it that we are ashamed of our own? How hard do we try to cover up our wounds and scars so that we appear to be perfect? It’s a problem among Christians. Our failure to share the stories that led to our scars present a dishonest picture of what it means to be Christians, for it is in the healing of these wounds that we become stronger; it is also through these wounds and scars that we can help others come to believe and understand.
I am so grateful to our dear Patti Applebee for agreeing to share her story of faith with the congregation on Sunday. I have heard from many people who were present that her story strengthened them and gave them courage to speak of their own wounds. I pray you find her story of witnessing the risen Christ to be as compelling and moving as I did, and I pray it will bless you as you seek the courage to go “Deep and Wide” in your own beliefs:
Reaching wide even in our doubts
I was born in a very small village a few miles south of Lincoln NE. in 1928. This is relevant only because it’s been at long life, and when I look back I feel as if I’ve lived 3 full lifetimes. This was just a year before the big stock market crash. I don’t remember the unbelievable changes that came to this country at that time. All I remember about this is that few people that I knew had very much as far as money or worldly goods. But being such a small town we had family and friends, and a community that worked together. But then came the great depression. The thirties were very hard for everyone especially our farmers. I didn’t live on a farm but several of my cousins and many of my schoolmates did. Each year we watched the crops burn up, and suffered so many huge dust storms. In the late thirties many people left for CA.
I was raised in a devout Christian family. We had one little church in our town, and it was a Presbyterian church. Most families were of Dutch and German decent. Our school and our church were the hubs of activity for us during my young life.
My Mother was a wonderful lady who taught me that God was my Creator and his Son Jesus was my Comforter and Savior, and that I could go to Him and talk to Him about anything that troubled me, and for an answer, as well as to thank Him for all the good things also. I heard all the Bible stories and she made it all so real, that I sincerely believed her.
As an example, she and I used to play the Old Maid card game when I was quite young, and I vaguely remember this but know more from being told about it. We were sitting at the card table playing Old Maid, and at one point I got off my chair and ducked under the table, Mother thought I had dropped a card, but when I didn’t come right back up, she waited a moment, looked under the table and said, “Patti what are you doing.” She said I looked up with a sheepish smile, and said, “Oh Mommy I was just praying to Jesus that He wouldn’t let me be the Old Maid.” She said it almost took her breath away, but in telling it later she said, “Right or Wrong,” you can bet that I did not let you draw the Old Maid that I was holding.”
I had a good life growing up but of course I went through many of the unpleasant things that all children and teenagers go through, but I can honestly say that my faith was strong and never wavered through those years because of the strong teachings I received at home, at church and at school. It was later that I really began to be tested.
The war years were very different and trying, having to watch so many of my friends go off to war. My mother along with many other women drove to Lincoln every day to work for the war effort in various factories. At the age of 14 I was given many responsibilities that I might not have taken over but for that. I learned to cook to have dinner ready every night when mother and dad came home from a long day. To clean, the way my mother wanted it cleaned, and in the summertime to weed and water the Victory garden my Dad planted. So many things were rationed and we had to adjust the way we lived, but the sacrifices were nothing compared to what the families made with members who were in the military. We prayed fervently for those boys and their families.
I graduated high school, in May of 1945 and attended the Univ. of NE that fall. The war had ended in Aug. of that year.
I met a young man at the University who had seen serious action in the Navy and had been sent to the University with a V-12 Officers training unit and we married in 1947, after he graduated. He became a geologist and we began a rather long list of moving around the country.
I could say that this marriage was one of the biggest mistakes I ever made, except that this union produced two of the most wonderful children I could have ever asked for. Sadly, alcohol took over his life, and even tho’ there were some good times, there were so many bad times. In those years alcoholism wasn’t really acknowledged as a disease, and it was soooo difficult to understand why he did this.
I will spare you all the details, but I wondered if I wasn’t being a good enough wife, and I was being told by him how worthless I was and I almost believed it, but I was taught that God made me in His image, and He didn’t think I was worthless.
I knew in my heart that God loved us and wanted the best for us. One of the most difficult things was to raise the children in some semblance of normalcy. I thought I could protect them from the reality of the problem, but of course they knew.
We lived under the cloud of alcoholism for nearly 20 years.
I taught them the things my Mother taught me, and we attended Sunday school and church, and that their prayers were very important. That God would answer in His time.
My prayer many times a day was, “Lord please make him stop drinking,” but I was beginning to doubt that it was ever going to happen.
I was driving down a very quiet street one day on my way home from the store with tears streaming down my face talking to God, and I said, “God I know you don’t want me to get a divorce, but I don’t know what to do.” I wiped my tears, and in a moment I tell you as surely as I’m standing here, I literally heard a voice, saying “How do you know I don’t want you to get a divorce. I want you to be the best person you can be.”
Truly, I didn’t doubt that I had heard Gods voice, but suddenly realized what He was telling me. I was being consumed by my desire for my husband to quit drinking and allowing myself to become unhinged. It became so clear that I couldn’t change this man, but I could change myself. I had just been given permission!
After my divorce, which my grown children supported, I moved to Denver. I had known Jack Applebee all my life, and he looked me up after getting my number from my Mother, and we started seeing each other, and I knew him to be the kindest, most loving, generous, and well-grounded person I’d ever known, and we’ve been married for 42 years next month.
As children we were taught that Thomas wasn’t a very good disciple because he doubted that Jesus was really raised from the dead. Poor Thomas. How would we have reacted in that day and time? We have the Bible; we have students of the Bible who teach us the things that have already happened. But the disciples simply had to live by their early Jewish training, and then the teachings of Jesus. Talk about having to have faith!
Knowing that Jesus had been crucified, Thomas knew about those scars and wanted that proof. When Jesus showed them to him he was nearly overcome when he said, “My Lord, and my God.”
Yes we know the story, and still we have doubts and questions. But that’s O.K. Jesus knows that we are just as human as he was when he said, “Father, why hast Thou forsaken me?”
The important thing is that we overcome those doubts because we know God is there for us and he answers prayer. Not always the way we think he should, but in the way that is best for us. All we have to do is to – LISTEN – for his answer, and Trust and Obey.