Last year, right about this time, there was a wedding rehearsal. The bride pointed to the hymn board. "How come it says, "Easter Hymns," when Easter was three weeks ago?" I explained that Easter is not just a day, it is a seven-week-season of the Church Year. And I was correct - partly. I say "partly" because even as she thought Easter was a one-day affair, the Church cannot lock Easter into a mere seven week period and be done with it. Easter happens - wherever and whenever God's Holy Spirit invades the hearts and minds of believers and non-believers alike - Easter happens. Easter is always in season; Easter is never out of date.

And as long as I am admitting to mistakes, I'll own up to this one too: eight youngsters are Communing this morning for the very first time. In a series of classes I've emphasized the classic definition of Sacrament. A Sacrament is commanded by Christ, using earthly elements, bringing God's forgiveness and salvation. That is correct – partly. But the definition is far too narrow. I'm concerned that I may have conveyed to these youngsters that God's special and sacred activity is limited only to the font and the altar rail.

I'm guessing that you folks have had some pretty sacred moments, sacramental moments without a church in the vicinity. You heard a word of forgiveness from a friend you offended. Or an "I love you!” from a little child; or a gentle unexpected kiss from a spouse. Sacred moments? The term "birthing center" comes to mind - a place where as many tears of joy and prayers are lifted as most sanctuaries!.

In our Lutheran tradition, there are just two Sacraments: Baptism is one ... and we declare that when water is dripped on the head of Donovan this morning, and God's Word is whispered in his tiny ears, the Holy Spirit will enter him with such strength, that Donovan receives the gift of life eternal. Donovan was in church last Sunday. This Sunday, it's Easter all over again!

The other Sacrament, Holy Communion, carries with it the same power and presence of God. When the bread is eaten and the wine consumed, the Risen Christ enters us in a truly special way ... the spiritual becomes physical; the gift of forgiveness and life eternal is once more conveyed. It's Easter all over again! A close friend of mine explains what this means to her: "I'm not sure what to expect when I kneel at the altar. I just know when I get up again, I feel stronger. And that is enough for me." I pray this is the discovery of eight youngsters this morning, this sense of feeling stronger.

Our Gospel text begins in the evening of the very first Easter. In the same room, three days earlier, Jesus broke bread and said, "This is my body"; and he poured wine and said, "This is my blood." And the very next morning, his body was broken on the cross and his blood dripped freely. That was Friday and now it's Sunday. All his disciples are in the room. That's not quite right. Judas is gone. He couldn't forgive himself ... and could not comprehend Jesus would. And Thomas is not there on the first Easter. We call him "Doubting Thomas." We could as easily call him "Missing Thomas."

Nine years ago I took a Sabbatical. It was to be five weeks in Rome and seven weeks on the Greek island of Rhodes. Three things out-of-the- ordinary during my first week in Greece: 1. On Tuesday, my first full day on the island, I was late and missed breakfast; 2. On Thursday, I was late and missed an appointment with the director of the archeological museum; And 3. On Sunday I got a call that my Mom was dying and I booked a seat on flight the next day. I got to the boarding gate just as the staff was leaving. "Sorry," they said, "the doors to the plane have been locked." "But my mother is near death." They notified the captain who let me board.

I am a punctual person. Why these mishaps? For my week on a Greek island, my watch remained an hour early, on Roman time - and I never caught on! But forget breakfast; and don't even concern yourself about my missed appointment. By the grace of God and compassion of the pilot, I made my flight from Rhodes to Athens to Rome to New York to Cleveland. Mom, greeted me, "What took you so long?" She was teasing - she was plenty happy to see me. It was sacramental when we greeted - a sacred moment. She died a day later - and her death was made tolerable by the promise of Easter.

Thomas missed the first Easter. The Bible doesn't tell us the reason and it's unlikely it had anything to do with a mis-set sun dial. Thomas missed the first Easter and had a difficult time believing that Easter had even dawned. "Unless," he said, "I see the mark of nails and touch those wounded hands, I cannot believe." In that same upper room, one week later, Jesus is suddenly among them. "Peace be with you," he says. Thomas likely needs that peace more than anyone. And Jesus continues, "Thomas, what took you so long?"

Wait. Jesus does not say that. Instead he is plenty happy to see Thomas. It's fair to say that Thomas is plenty happy too! A week later, and Easter has broken out once more. Thomas was a week late - but he was not too late! Seeing his Lord, alive indeed - well it was for Thomas, a sacred moment. A sacrament. You could not convince him otherwise! Even though sacred moments can happen anywhere, I am convinced they are most easily identified in the midst of the community - the congregation. Jesus could have encountered Thomas anywhere - to show him those wounds and bring him to faith. He chose to do it in the midst of community - the comrades, the colleagues of Thomas.

God cannot be confined by our definitions. Just as the rock solid tomb could not hold Jesus, neither can our neat and tidy theological definitions contain all the marvelous surprises our God has for us. Easter can break out on any day, in any season. In the same way, Sacraments, those sacred moments in our lives - cannot be confined to font or altar rail. Not those special and mysterious moments when we are tickled by angel wings and touched by the hand of God.