Message Delivered at Christ Church

March 29 & 30, 2008

TEXT:  John 20:19-31

Delivered by Paul A. Johnson

 

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              There’s a good chance that if each of us took a moment, we could identify someone in our extended families who doesn’t quite fit; who is sort of like the odd person out.  Most families seem to have one of those persons—the one whose missteps are of the obvious kind; who we don’t know what to do with and sometimes push to the side.

              It seems like every family has that brother or sister, or Uncle Joe or Aunt Minnie, or Cousin Eddie like in “Christmas Vacation” we sort of kind of hope won’t show up for the family reunion because when they do they make us uncomfortable.

              Well, let me introduce you today to that member of the disciple family; the one we don’t quite know what to do with, not because he’s so different from us, but because he’s so much the same.  Let me introduce you to my cousin Thomas. 

Thomas appears three times in the Gospel According to John.  The first time, he’s a hero.  In John 11, when Jesus says that he’s going to raise Lazarus at a Bethany near Jerusalem, Thomas is the disciple who says to the rest “Let us go also, that we might die with him.” He’s the first who’s ready to die for Jesus, and that’s a pretty admirable thing.

The second time is during the Last Supper.  When Jesus says those words we often hear at funerals--“In my Father’s house there are many rooms,” and then says to the disciples “and you know where I am going,” Thomas, who seems to have been of a practical bent, says “No we don’t!  So how can we know the way!?” And to Thomas’ question, Jesus says “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.” Those are beautiful words that Jesus says, so I’m glad Thomas asked the question.

              But we don’t remember those stories about Thomas.  We remember this one.  After all, he’s not just Thomas.  He’s Doubting Thomas.  Have you ever noticed that he is the only one of the Twelve with an adjective attached to his name?  We don’t call Judas “Betraying Judas.” We don’t call Peter “Denying Peter.” We don’t call John “Beloved John.” Only Thomas, who can’t quite believe it the first time he hears the Good News of the Resurrection, gets a label.

              And every year, on the weekend after Easter when it’s all a bit quieter and smaller and less powerful than it was last weekend, like the cousin we don’t quite know what to do with, he comes to the family picnic and makes us deal with his issues. 

Well, there are a whole lot of people we could hang with at the family gathering, but I’ll tell you that we could do a whole lot worse than putting our lot in with Thomas.

              Here’s why:

              First, today Thomas reminds us that faith sometimes asks something of us; that sometimes faith isn’t always easy, and that sometimes we have to make a bit of effort.  In this story, Thomas reminds us of that.

              Remember that faith, in its essence, is trust.  And when we speak about having faith, what we’re really talking about is trusting God.  And when we talk about trusting God, what we’re talking about is a willingness to depend on God and God’s promises; to rest our weight upon God.  You know, the Gospel is “Good News.” That’s what the word “gospel” means.  And when we say that the News of God in Christ is good, what we mean is that all will be well.  That in the chances and changes of life—and there most certainly are chances and changes in life—that God will take care of what God promises to take care of.  And when we talk about faith, we’re talking about trusting that through God, and in God, and by God, all will be made well.  That really, through the grace of God, it’s going to be okay.  May not be what we think we want, or what we think is best…but that it will be okay.

              But it’s pretty obvious that human beings don’t always trust very easily.  Trust doesn’t seem to be our default setting.  That’s the entire human side of the story of scripture.  The first to have a hard time trusting God were Adam and Eve, and now today we have Thomas.  Rather than let go and trust God, it seems to be the human tendency to want to grab on, and take control, and operate according to our agenda rather than God’s.  Every time we try to change someone other than ourselves; every time we try to fix a problem that is beyond our power to fix; that’s us working our agenda rather than trusting in God’s agenda.

              Now there are some people whose trust in the Lord is effortless, and those are the people the Apostle Paul would say have been give the gift of faith.  But for the rest of us, it’s sometimes a bit of a challenge.  And I don’t say that judgmentally or critically.  I just think that’s the way it is.  And all that simply means that for the rest of us, faith is something that needs to be practiced and exercised…sort of the way we practice the piano if we ever want learn to play, or lift weights if we ever want to get stronger.

              And what I’m getting to here is that if you ever feel that faith is difficult, that sometimes you have a hard time trusting that God will deliver on God’s promises, that’s all right—because it’s what most people experience.  I’m convinced that every human being has in their heart a yearning for the presence of God.  I think that’s a given.  But for most us—for that yearning becomes faith through practicing faith…being willing, giving it a shot, and even putting forth the effort.

              And that’s what is so beautiful about Thomas in this story, because that’s what he does.  When the disciples tell him that they’ve seen the Lord he says “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe”—remembering that the word translated as “believe” could also be translated as “trust.” And what’s so beautiful in his statement is that when he hears this witness from the others, even though he can’t quite believe, he knows exactly what he needs to do, and he is willing, and he does it.  He doesn’t fold his arms and say, “No way.” He’s open to the possibility, and then he shows up.  They gather together again the next week, and this time, he’s there.  We don’t know why he’s not there the first time.  Probably he’s AWOL for any of the same reasons we go AWOL.  But second time around, regardless of what else is going on, he shows up.  He gives it a shot.  He doesn’t stay away.  He stands up, takes a walk, and is open to the possibility that this God is trustworthy.

              So what I want to do right now is stop and ask a question.  If you buy into my suggestion that for most of us, that a way for our trust in God to grow is to practice trusting…where’s a place for you to practice?  What is one thing—just one—that we might be willing to hand over to God today, and let the Lord take care of?  Maybe it’s a relationship; maybe it’s a problem with a family member or friend or at work or at school; maybe it’s a decision we’ve been struggling with, or a challenge in our own lives.  Could be anything.  But what is one thing—for the sake of practice--we could do, we could hand over to God today, and say “you take care of it.” Because what we’re doing when we do this, is putting in the effort, and exercising—literally practicing--faith and trust.

              That’s the first thing about this story from Thomas.  Here’s the second:  Let’s put out of our mind that there is something wrong with doubt, or that there is something unspiritual about our questions and wonderings.  Let’s dump that bad stuff.  In this story, Thomas’ doubt is a good thing.  It brings him to the Lord.  It’s part of his path.  If you’ve never heard a preacher say this, then listen to me say this:  doubts, and questions, and wonderings…they’re just part of being alive, everybody.  They’re just part of the course of faith.  They aren’t the enemy; they’re nothing to be ashamed of; we don’t have to keep them hidden because they’re like signposts on the path to light.

              And most of us—we’ve got them, or we’re had them.  If you wonder whether you’re the only one, you’re not. 

This questioning and wondering and doubting can take all different forms.  For some of us, it’s rooted in our intellect.  In my life, that’s what it’s been for me.  In my forty-six year walk of faith, I’ve had things in my head I needed answered before I could give my heart, and I’m not ashamed of that because that’s the way God made me.

              For some, our doubts come from our pain and our wounds.  My brother would tell you that when his seven year-old son died of leukemia nineteen years ago, for longer than he would probably want to admit, considering that he, too, is a priest, he was 99.9% doubt.  He’s not there anymore.  But that’s where he was.  The pain and grief and disappointment and sadness of life sometimes shake us up, and cause us to question whether God is trustworthy.  Some of us here have experienced that.  Maybe we are right now.

              And sometimes, our doubts come from fear.  When Peter doubts, that’s what does it.  Elsewhere in scripture Jesus gives Peter the power to walk on water.  But he looks down, gets afraid, and stops trusting that God will keep him above the waves…and he begins to sink.  Our fears can create questions as much as our pain and intellect can.

              But no matter its origin, doubt is not a bad thing in itself.  Instead, they are a sign of life, and are there because God has given us freedom.  And what I would suggest is that if we are willing to claim these empty places, they point us in the right direction.  If we’ll allow them to be so, our doubts, and questions, and wonderings can be stepping stones in our relationship with God.  Building blocks.  Or to throw in one more metaphor…I am convinced that faith, our trust in God, our relationship with God, is much more like a stream than it is a stone.  It is something that is alive and flows, more than it is something that is possessed and held onto.  And remember…streams do not flow through where things are.  They flow through where things aren’t.  A stream finds the empty place, and that’s the direction it takes.  And what I would offer is that our doubts, and questions, and wonderings can be our friends, because they reveal to us the empty places where God wants to do some filling.

              So I’m going to stop again, and I’m going to ask this:  where’s the place of your doubting?  Or your questions?  Or your wondering?  Because that’s not a place to be afraid of.  It’s not the place of darkness, but the place of exploration, and may be exactly the place where the Lord is doing some work, and showing up.

              Because that’s the last lesson from this story of Thomas.  You will notice in this story that one more time Jesus shows up, with his wounds still showing.  And there are all sorts of theories as to why the wounds of the resurrected Jesus are still there.  Well, maybe it’s because Thomas needs them.  Jesus meets Thomas exactly where Thomas is, which is what Jesus always seems to do.  For better or worse, for no reason we really understand, Thomas needs to touch Jesus…put his fingers in the nail prints, and his hand in Jesus’ side.  And that’s exactly what Jesus lets him do.  Thomas doesn’t even have to ask.  Jesus makes the offer.

              I want to point something out, and bear with me here because it means a little bit of retro-Bible.  Remember that last week it was Mary Magdalene who showed up at the tomb.  She loves Jesus the most, and so she’s the one who shows up…that’s her virtue, that’s her walk.  And what she gets is the first revelation of the Resurrected Lord.  But at the end of the dialogue between her and Jesus, Jesus says to her “do not hold on to me.” Of course, this line could be taken in lots of different ways, but it seems to imply some action not described in the text of Mary reaching to touch him.  And he says “No, not yet.  I haven’t ascended to my Father.”

              Well, in today’s story he’s still not ascended to his Father.  There he is in the room.  But to Thomas, “the Doubter,” he says “touch me.” Mary apparently did not need to touch him to trust that he was alive.  Thomas did, so that’s what Jesus gave him.  So that whether we can believe it today or not, I will witness to the truth that that is the magnitude of Jesus’ love for each one of us.

              So I’ll finish with this:  It is true that God always honors the yearning in our hearts, but may we not be surprised, or forlorn, if faith seems to be something we have to practice from time to time for it to grow in us.  It’s been that way for almost all of the saints.  Every story of every spiritual giant I know has involved at least some intentional work to trust God. 

And may it be that we are neither surprised nor forlorn when doubts, or wonderings, or questions arise.  It means that we’re alive, and more than being a problem to be solved, what they do is light the path to our salvation.

              But in the end, may it be that we take from this story…that it’s the one who “doubts,” the one who can’t quite get there on his own, the one who maybe more than being more doubting than the rest is simply the more outspoken…he’s the one Jesus invites most fully into his presence, even to the point of touching him.

              If he does that for Cousin Thomas in that room back then, he will hardly do less for the Thomas’s in this room, right now.