Risus Paschalis

The Second Sunday of Easter
April 12, 2026
John 20:19-31

“Risus Paschalis”

In looking at today’s sermon title, you’re probably wondering, “Huh? What’s up with that? Kinda weird.” Maybe the pastor had a little too much Easter chocolate and forgot to do spell check? Those two words, Risus Paschalis, are Latin and mean “The Easter Laugh.” This is what early Christian theologians called the gift of holy humor in light of Christ’s resurrection, encouraging believers to find humor and laughter in life, especially in this Easter season. This is a theme that has echoed down through the centuries. “St. Francis of Assisi advised: ‘Leave sadness to the devil. The devil has reason to be sad… Martin Luther wrote: ‘God is not a God of sadness, but the devil is. Christ is a God of joy. It is pleasing to the dear God whenever thou rejoices or laughest from the bottom of thy heart’” (Holy Humor: Inspirational Wit and Cartoons, by Cal and Rose Samra. Carmel, NY: Guideposts, 1996; p. 66). This Sunday after Easter is sometimes referred to as “Low Sunday” – low attendance and low energy after Holy Week and Easter Sunday. But there are other names for this day: Bright Sunday, and Holy Humor Sunday. The good news of Jesus’ resurrection makes our lives and our world bright with joy, gladness and good cheer. In a world filled with bad news, maybe now more than ever, the ability to find joy and laughter are sorely needed. Here’s a bit of humor: A fresh-out-of the seminary young pastor was contacted by a local funeral director to hold a graveside committal service at a small country cemetery. There was to be no funeral, just the committal, because the deceased had no family or friends left. The young pastor started out early to get to the cemetery, but soon got lost. After making several wrong turns, he finally arrived a half-hour late. The hearse was nowhere to be seen, but there were some workmen under a nearby tree, eating their lunch. The pastor went to the open grave and found that the vault lid was already in place. He took out his book and read the service. As he returned to his car, he overheard one of the workmen say: “Maybe we’d better tell him it’s a septic tank” (Ibid., p. 46). Risus Paschalis!

On this Second Sunday of Easter, we encounter not Easter laughter, but Easter doubt as we meet Thomas who refused to believe that Jesus had risen from the dead unless he could personally touch the wounds of Jesus. The disciples had gathered behind closed doors, utterly confused, uncertain where to go or what to do, paralyzed with grief. Mary Magdalene had already reported that she had seen the risen Savior (John 20:18), and that he had spoken to her. Luke’s Gospel reports that this report fell on deaf ears, that “these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them” (Luke 24:11). And so it wasn’t just Thomas who was the doubter; it was all of the disciples. If ever there were people who needed a new beginning, some Risus Paschalis, it was these individuals. The crucified and risen Jesus came into their midst, and the first word out of his mouth was, “Peace be with you” (John 20:19). Of all the things that the disciples were likely expecting Jesus to say to them, I doubt that “peace” was one of them. They had all turned tail and run away, leaving Jesus all alone to face his suffering and death. They were likely expecting Jesus to tear into them with a fury. But none of that, only words of blessing: “Peace be with you.” And how did they know that it was Jesus? “He showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord” (John 20:20). Was there then some holy laughter from the disciples, as they saw that it was Jesus back from the dead? Nervous laughter of uncertainty that then erupted into great belly laughs of joy? The wounds, still visible in Jesus’ resurrected and glorified body, were what convinced the disciples that it really and truly was their Lord. And there is a mini-Pentecost as Jesus breathed on them and bestowed on them this blessing: “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you withhold forgiveness from any, it is withheld” (John 20:22b-23). The Office of the Keys, as this is called in Christian teaching, is that awesome power from the risen Savior to his Church, from Jesus to his disciples and to us today, both to forgive and retain sins.

There’s always somebody who didn’t get the memo, right? Somebody who was AWOL and wasn’t where they should have been. That was Thomas. For whatever reason, he was absent on that first Easter evening when Jesus appeared in the midst of all the other disciples. Thomas then emphatically stated that he was never going to believe that Jesus had risen from the dead, not until “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” (John 20:25). Be careful what you wish for, right?

Eight days later, all the disciples were together again, and this time Thomas was there. As before, the risen Savior came into their midst, behind closed and locked doors, with those same words of blessing: “Peace to you” (John 20:26). Jesus invited Thomas to do what he said he needed to do: “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe” (John 20:27). Did Thomas actually do this? That’s how this moment is always depicted in art, but Scripture does not tell us whether Thomas did or did not place his finger or hand into the wounds of Jesus. Whether he did or didn’t, Thomas’ stubborn refusal to believe was transformed into faith: “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:28). Jesus chides Thomas: “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (John 20:29). Thomas and those first disciples saw with their eyes the risen Christ. They saw the wounds of Jesus, but we have not, except through the eyes of faith. But Jesus tells us that we are blessed – blessed because we walk by faith and not by sight. We are blessed because, not having seen, we still believe that Christ is risen; risen indeed. Through all the complexities and uncertainties of life; through all the sorrows and joys; through all of the changes and chances of this fleeting life, we believe, and in believing, we are blessed. In this is Easter joy and gladness; even some Easter laughter.

After this incident in today’s Gospel, we hear of Thomas just two more times in Scripture (John 21:2 and Acts 1:13). Tradition tells us that he later traveled to India where he shared the good news of Jesus and planted the Christian faith, dying a martyr’s death. To this day, believers in India, especially south India, will often identify themselves as “Thomas Christians,” the spiritual sons and daughters of this disciple. For Thomas, for us, for every believer, it all comes down what the Word of God tells us in those closing words in today’s Gospel: “Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:30-31).

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen.