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The great luxury liner was on fire, but no one knew it. Deep in the hold, near the engine room, hundreds of tons of coal were stored. Coal--powered ships used to carry the coal in a watered--down state. But this ship was new, and very big; bigger than any ship ever built, or had ever sailed. So even though the coal was watered for safety, the enormous amount meant that there were dry spots. A fire smoldered undiscovered deep in the coal supply, and when it was discovered, a fire--fighting crew was sent to quench it. They worked for days, even weeks, and couldn't put it out. It was determined that the coal stores were so huge that the fire would not deplete it, and was not a danger to the passengers or crew. So the ship put to sea with a fire--fighting crew sworn to secrecy, still fighting the stubborn fire in shifts around the clock.

The ship never made it to port. Crossing the Atlantic with more than 2,220 persons aboard, the ship sank. 1,513 persons perished, making the incident the worst maritime disaster in history. Safety standards of the time were obsolete, so there were enough lifeboats to comply with the law, but with only enough seats for half the passengers.

The fire had no part in the disaster. It's hardly ever mentioned. Few people even know about it. Something else grabbed the headlines, upstaged it. The something else was an iceberg.

The ship was the Titanic.

It was on fire when they boarded it. But who could tell? And who remembers it now? It's well--known for hitting an iceberg, and for sinking, and for having too few lifeboats. Some even remember that this was the first use of the Morse Code distress signal, SOS. But you have to do some research to find out that there was a fire in the hold, that was burning even before the ship sailed.

In the Bible we find that the Spirit of God is often likened to a burning fire. The great preacher and evangelist John Wesley once wrote that Christians should set ourselves on fire and invite people to watch us burn. When people come to this church is there any fire for them to see? Are we burning with the fire of the Holy Spirit? Or are we all just a burnt out pile of barely lit coals, or even ashes?

Recall our roots; remember our history. And ask, what is the church known for today? Some say it is sinking from hitting the iceberg of modern society. How many remember that there was a fire in the hold when it set sail?

This Sunday may be called "Faith Sunday." The scriptures deal with faith. In the Gospel Reading, Thomas comes to faith. In the Second Reading, the early Christians have faith without ever having seen the risen Christ. Christians are witnessing to their faith that God raised up Jesus from the dead.

The Easter event is so huge that it has lasted some twenty broad centuries. And we cannot celebrate its greatness in only one Sunday. Easter is seven Sundays: a week of Sundays.

And since the Old Testament does not know the risen Lord, throughout the Easter season the First Reading is a passage from the history book of the New Testament - the book of the beginnings of the church, called the Acts of the Apostles. Today we join Peter in Jerusalem for the first part of his sermon on the day of Pentecost.

George Burns, the old vaudevillian, was fond of saying, "I'm not going to die - it's been done." He was saying, in show business we have to keep entertaining and the same old thing isn't very entertaining. We have to keep coming up with something new.

The trouble with that is death is not just show business. It's a fact of life. In fact, it's a part of life. Everybody dies. And George Burns, even George Burns, died. But you gotta give him credit, he lived until he died and except for that one thing, he lived a life that was like no other. Until he did it, it hadn't been done. Except for death.

Everybody dies. Except for Jesus. No, even Jesus. Look at today's First Reading, from the Pentecost sermon of Peter in Acts 2 verse 23: This Jesus ... you crucified and killed.

People don't like to hear me say this, but to me it's part of the joy of salvation: Jesus really died. Like everybody else. He didn't just pretend to die. He didn't somehow go into a coma and wake up later to escape the tomb. There was no switch in that tomb he could pull to turn himself on again. He was dead.

We say he rose again on the third day. But we have the voice of the verb wrong. God did it. Not Jesus. He was raised. Peter says it right in this sermon at Pentecost. Verse 24 says, God raised him up. And if you didn't hear it right the first time, he says, let's underline it: verse 32, "This Jesus God raised up, and of that we are witnesses." The joy is that God raises Jesus for us to see, as Thomas sees.

Is this the Peter we were talking about last Friday? Lurking in Pilate's courtyard trying to find out about Jesus' trial and cursing and denying that he even knew Jesus?

Or the Peter in today's Gospel Reading from John - why, his name isn't even mentioned.

The disciples were barricaded in a house - fearful, hoping nobody would find out where they were. Is that not like the church sometimes? The risen Christ came to them and said, "Peace be with you." The reason for their fear is still there. But Christ brings them peace.

Harry Emerson Fosdick writes: "Fear imprisons, faith liberates; fear paralyzes, faith empowers; fear disheartens, faith encourages; fear sickens, faith heals; fear makes useless, faith makes serviceable - and, most of all, fear puts hopelessness at the heart of life, while faith rejoices in its God."

People need room to grow. A fearful Peter was one of those locked up with Thomas. Within this small group, Thomas and the rest of the eleven met the risen Christ. It is not long afterward - fifty days later, on the first Pentecost - that this same Peter preaches to the crowd.

They are seeing a very different Peter. He is not timid and questioning. He knows what he is saying, and what might happen to him because of it. But no more is he hiding and denying.

He begins by assuming they all know Jesus and what signs and wonders he did. He further appeals to their knowledge of God's plan and the prophecy of David. He quotes Psalm 16. But he lands squarely on the problem of death. Jesus was crucified and killed at the hands of lawless men. David both died and was buried, Peter says, we know with some confidence, because everybody dies.

But his point is: Jesus was delivered up and God raised him up.

Could this have happened if those first Christians had not had room for Thomas' questions? We need to have room for uncertainty, questioning, and growth in our communities, and we also have to empower at least some of us to spread what we have found. If we spread the word, we must then welcome others, in various states of questioning, understanding, and belief, into our fellowship.

So I think a more important question than "Do I have God's Spirit within me?" is "Am I willing to receive God's power?" "Am I willing to open myself up to the rush of a mighty wind?"

Wind is powerful, and it can be beneficial. We use the wind to power sailboats and windmills, to dry our clothes, and to keep ourselves cool. Our lives would be pretty dull without wind. Without the heavenly wind, God's Holy Spirit, blowing through our lives, we can be dull and lifeless, also.

Sometimes God blows through our lives like a gentle breeze, so light we hardly notice it. Sometimes God's Spirit pushes us like a sailboat before the wind. Sometimes God's Spirit blows through us with the force of a tornado, turning everything upside down, sweeping us clean so that we have to start fresh - like Dorothy Gale, picking us up and setting us down in an entirely new place.

Now, the question this Faith Sunday is: Do we remember the fire in the hold? God gives us the power of his Spirit as a blessing to celebrate. Will we be people of a sinking ship with a fire that no one knows about or remembers? Or will the power of our fire and wind be felt for hundreds of miles and hundreds of centuries?