“Doubting Thomas: My Hero”
John 20: 24-31
John 20: 24-31
Thomas is one of my heroes of
faith. I admire him greatly, though not for the reason you might expect. Thomas
didn’t have a faith-moment like Abraham; he wasn’t the poet like David; he didn’t
have eloquent speeches like Solomon or Paul. Nope – I admire Thomas for none of
those reasons. I admire Thomas for his doubt. He was, by all appearances, a glass
half empty kind of guy. When Jesus announced He was going to Bethany after
Lazarus died, Thomas quipped, “Let us go so we may die with him (John 11:16).
Not exactly the power of positive thinking, is it? Officially, his name is
recorded among the list of disciples as either Thomas Didymus, or Thomas,
called the twin – it depends on the
translation of the Bible you are reading. But no one knows him as Thomas the
Twin. We know him as the Doubter. In fact, that nickname has so stuck with him
that we use that moniker for anyone who shares his doubt-filled characteristic
and we call them a Doubting Thomas, regardless their own name. No, I admire
Thomas because he says exactly what he thinks, even if it isn’t exactly the
most faith-filled statement in the moment.
To be fair, put yourself in his
shoes. For Mary and Mary, Peter, James and John, even the Emmaus disciples the
power of the resurrection is starting to be understood. The truth of the
Scriptures is beginning to unfold. Christ is risen, He is risen indeed –
alleluia! But for Thomas, it is as if Christ is not risen. Christ is not living
as He said. Jesus was, at best, mistaken about that third day talk; at worst, a
liar who misled the disciples for three years.
Thomas had witnessed Jesus
raising Lazarus. But, it’s one thing for a living Jesus to stand outside
Lazarus’ grave and summon a dead man back to life; it’s entirely another matter
when Jesus is, Himself, the one who is dead and buried.
Thomas is no fool. When he heard the
reports from others after Jesus Easter-evening appearance, Thomas stated that “Unless
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.” Thomas had
heard Jesus’ prophetic words about being crucified at the hands of the chief
priests and elders and teachers of the law, and had also heard Jesus say, “and
on the third day be raised.” It’s one thing to hear those words; it’s another to
see Jesus’ side pierced with the spear and blood and water flow out. Jesus was
dead. Thomas
cannot believe Jesus’ promise; he won’t believe it; No: dead people don’t come
back to life. It doesn’t work that way. He will not believe unless he sees it
with his own eyes.
I get that. And, I suspect that many
of you do as well.
We speak of Christian faith in two
ways. The first is faith that Jesus is my Savior and that He died, rose,
ascended and now waits until I see Him in the resurrection. This is faith that
believes that promise made to us in our Baptisms. I trust I am forgiven, I
believe that I am God's child through Jesus' death and resurrection, and all of
His gifts are mine. I know, believe, trust and rely that this is "most
certainly true." This is "saving faith."
Then, there is how we live out
that saving faith. We call this the sanctified life or the life of faithfulness.
This is faithfulness that enables the Christian to pray "give us this day
our daily bread," and to be content with enough. This is faithfulness that
enables us to look in the mirror and say, “You are already holy and sanctified
in the eyes of God.” This is faithfulness that, in the face of a critical
medical diagnosis, says, “I believe God will heal me now, or into eternity.” Faithfulness
is able to say, without irony, “Thy will be done,” followed by "amen,
amen...may it be so." Faithfulness allows the Christian to stand at the
grave of a loved one and declare, “I believe in the resurrection and the life
of the world to come.”
But that sanctified life of faithfulness is tough, isn’t it? To say – and mean - “Thy will be done” in the face of financial struggles, or health scares, or strained family life, or unemployment – that’s not so easy. It is in this aspect of faith, the daily living of faith, where I struggle – some days, struggling mightily. I understand because I, too, am a Doubting Thomas. I say that with no pride...trust me.
But that sanctified life of faithfulness is tough, isn’t it? To say – and mean - “Thy will be done” in the face of financial struggles, or health scares, or strained family life, or unemployment – that’s not so easy. It is in this aspect of faith, the daily living of faith, where I struggle – some days, struggling mightily. I understand because I, too, am a Doubting Thomas. I say that with no pride...trust me.
What is it that drives your
faithfulness into fear? We pray “Give us
this day our daily bread,” but in reality we want to pray "Give me this
day my daily filet mignon and deliver me from any trouble that might disturb my
otherwise peaceful day." We say, “God is so good,” when our prayers are
answered the way we wish, but when the Lord answers in other ways, we doubt
God’s love for us. We are thankful when our bank account sits fat and thick and
our retirement accounts look strong, but when those numbers drop, we cry to the
heavens. And with these tests coming at
us every day, faithfulness gets crowded out sometimes.
And the danger here is that this
aspect of faithfulness impacts our faith in God’s grace for us in Christ. The
devil’s no fool – he knows that we are savvy enough that if he were to say to
us, “God doesn’t love you,” we would tell him to hit the road. So, he nibbles
at the edges – anything to get us to look at ourselves and away from Jesus. He tempts
us doubt our worthiness in God’s eyes. He tempts us to think we are unworthy
because we don’t have as strong of faith as someone else. He tempts us to think
we are failures at Christianity. And when these temptations start to clang in
our ears over and over and over, they start to sound as if they ring true. And,
like Thomas, we start to alienate ourselves from the other disciples that
gather together to form the church. The last temptation, then, is for the
Christian, alone and left with his doubts and fears, to teeter on the edge of
saying, “And if all of this is true, then the power of the resurrection isn’t enough…not
for me at least.”
So, when this Gospel text comes
to the forefront every year in the Sunday after Easter, it gives me a moment to
stop, pause, and rejoice because Jesus doesn’t leave Doubting Thomas or
Doubting Jon, or Doubting [insert your name here] alone with doubt. Jesus
rescues and redeems Thomas from a life of doubt to a life of faithfulness.
It’s a week after Easter. The
scene from Easter night is repeated: upper room, doors locked, disciples
gathered with Thomas present, this time. Again, Jesus appears; again, He
declares, “Peace be with you.”
Do you understand the power of
those four words? We talk about peace; we wish for peace; sometimes we even try
to make peace. Peace, at least earthly peace, is fleeting and nebulous. Ask
parents with teenagers, or a married couple leaving the counselor’s office, or
any patient who walks out of the doctor’s office with the words, “Let’s see
what the tests say, first…” still ringing in the ears. Industry and agriculture
waits with baited breath as our economy teeters on the brink of depression. The wars of Iraq and Afghanistan are almost 20
years old. Peace: it seems more like a punchline than a reality.
So, when Jesus speaks of peace,
it should make us take notice. “Peace be with you.” Jesus’ peace is different. His
peace, promised of on Maundy Thursday, is completed at the cross. Now, His
peace is restorative, reuniting the relationship between God and man which was
chewed apart in the Garden of Eden. His peace brings harmony and unity. His
peace causes the eternal warfare to end. His peace sooths the troubled heart,
calms the worried head, silences fears that run wild. His peace rejuvenates
faith where it has grown weary.
So there is no doubt for Thomas,
Jesus invites Thomas to touch his hands and place his hand into Jesus side –
those were Thomas’ requirements, remember, that unless that could happen he
wouldn’t believe. And with words that are both command and invitation, Jesus
says, “Stop being unbelieving and be believing.”
Jesus’ peace overcomes Thomas’
doubts. Seeing Jesus is enough. He
doesn’t need to touch Jesus’ body or feel the marks and wounds. Jesus’ peace,
the same peace that restored the relationship between God and man, now restores
Thomas’ faith. Everything Jesus said about His death and resurrection is true.
“My Lord and my God,” Thomas declares as both faithfulness and faith are
restored.
Did you catch when this great
conversion of faith takes place? It’s a Sunday evening, the first Sunday after Jesus’
resurrection. In our liturgical tradition, we call it the Second Sunday of
Easter. But if you want a great, Biblical term for this, it’s the 8th
day since Jesus’ resurrection. We’re familiar with some numbers in the Bible –
three, seven, twelve quickly come to mind. But eight is probably not as
familiar. The 8th day is a very subtle way to connect every Sunday
to the resurrection. Sunday is the first day of the week; our text began with
this sentence: “On the evening of that day (meaning the day of Jesus’
resurrection), the first day of the week…” That day, Thomas wasn’t there. For
him, it was as if Jesus was still in the grave. But the 8th day is the
following Sunday, the day when Thomas saw and believed for himself that Jesus
was raised. The 8th day starts a new week, a new beginning. For
Thomas, it was truly a new beginning of living in resurrection hope and
confidence, the promises of Jesus starting to uncloud from his eyes. Because of
the connection to newness, eight is also connected with baptism. If you look at
our Baptismal font, it is an octagon – an eight sided polygon – to remind us
that baptism is our new life in Christ. In baptism, we die with Christ; in
baptism, we are raised with Christ, our own 8th day resurrection
moment and promise.
“Blessed are those who have not seen and yet
have believed.” We know about Peter and John and Paul as they carry the Gospel
from Israel to what is today modern southern Europe. What you probably don’t
know is that tradition says that from this point forward, Thomas became the
first missionary to what is today Turkey, Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan and
eventually winding up in northern India. There, Thomas is celebrated much the
same way we celebrate Martin Luther. This is remarkable that a man, who once
said he would not believe unless he could see and touch, carried the Gospel to
people who could only see with eyes of faith.
And today, April 19, is our 8th
day. It’s the first day of a new week, the first day of the new week after we
celebrated Christ’s resurrection. And for you, on this 8th day, the
final words of Jesus serve as a dramatic postlude: You are part of these whom
Jesus calls “Blessed,” for you have not yet seen Jesus with your eyes. Because
of the connection to newness, eight is also connected with baptism. If you look
at our Baptismal font, it is an octagon – an eight sided polygon – to remind us
that baptism is our new life in Christ. In baptism, we die with Christ; in
baptism, we are raised with Christ, our own 8th day resurrection
moment and promise. With baptismally-drenched, Spirit-given faith, you believe
the promises of God are fulfilled in this man, named Jesus, who died for you
and rose for your eternal salvation. With Spirit-enlivened faithfulness, you
live out that life of faith every day in your actions and interactions with
others. And, on those days when your faithfulness is shaken, and your faith is
weak, Jesus comes to you and says, “Peace.” A remarkable gift, His peace, for
it doesn’t change or grow weary. His peace is delivered to you without
hesitation or reservation. Stop being unbelieving and be believing. Earned for
you at His cross, delivered to you in your baptism, His 8th day peace
knows no boundaries or limits.
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