Poor Thomas. All this guy wants is a little physical proof and he ends up getting stuck with the label, "doubting Thomas."
Who gave him this name? All it takes is for one person to give someone a label and the rest is history. God or bad. Is it fair to remember somebody by one incident?
And yet we remember Thomas by this story in John chapter 20. And ironically, it’s because of his statement of faith in verse 28 of this chapter that would later help the early church to formulate the doctrine of the deity of Jesus Christ.
Outside of what the scriptures tells us about Thomas, tradition tells us that he risked his life by using money that was supposed to be used for building a palace for an Indian King and instead he gave that money to the poor. Never mind that tradition also tells us that Thomas was eventually speared to death for his faith in Jesus Christ, joining several of the other disciples in becoming martyrs.
And so, it’s unfortunate that we remember him as Doubting Thomas. History can be so unforgiving and selective when it comes to remembering someone's life.
Our Gospel reading this morning invites us to ask the question, “Is there any room for doubt in the Christian faith?”
A woman asked Bertrand Russell, the world’s best-known atheist at the time, what he would say if it turned out he had been wrong and found himself standing outside of the Pearly Gates. His eyes lighting up, Russell replied, “I would simply say, ‘God, you gave us insufficient evidence!”
Maybe that answer is fitting for an atheist, but what about for those of us who do profess faith – is there a place for doubt in our lives?
Christian author, Philip Yancey shares this story from his book, “Reaching for the Invisible God.” He writes that Peter De Vries, the product of a strict Calvinist home and undergraduate studies at Calvin College went on to write novels about the loss of faith. One of his characters could not forgive God for not existing – words that explain much of De Vries’s own God obsessed work.
His novel, “The Blood of the Lamb,” tells of Don Wanderhope, father of an eleven-year-old girl who contracts Leukemia. Just as the bone marrow begins to respond to treatment and she approaches remission, an infection sweeps through the ward and kills her.
Wanderhope, who has brought in a cake with his daughter’s name on it, leaves the hospital, returns to the church where he prayed for her healing, and hurls the cake at the crucifix hanging in front of the church. The cake hits just below the crown of thorns, and brightly colored icing drips down Jesus’ face of stone.
In referencing this story, author Philip Yancey goes on to say that one of the reasons he remains a Christian is not so much that he can explain away tragic stories such as this one, but because of a lack of good alternatives. He goes on to write, “The only thing more difficult than having a relationship with an invisible God is having no such relationship.”
When our daughter was in High School, she would often accompany me on pastoral visits. One of those visits was with a young girl in the hospital who was about to begin chemo treatments. We shared in a prayer together in her hospital room and we told her that the church was lifting her in prayer.
As we left that room, I couldn’t help but to wonder why God would allow this beautiful little girl to suffer through chemo treatments, when she should be at home enjoying life. I know that none of us can ever fully know the whys, but it’s good to know that we are allowed to shake our fists at God sometimes. That was one of those times.
I remember a time when I sat in the living room of a couple who had recently attended the funeral of their 57-year-old daughter. As you can imagine, the death of their daughter had left them feeling very empty and sad. And I’m glad that they didn’t pull any punches when I met with them that day.
They said, “We just can’t understand why God would have allowed this.” I told them that even though I didn’t have any answers for them, that it was good that they were expressing their true feelings with God.
I’m actually glad that the disciple Thomas was honest enough to tell the other disciples who had the advantage of seeing the risen Lord, “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.”
And how could we ever put Thomas down for a statement like this when we already know that the rest of the disciples had locked themselves in a room because they were afraid that the Jewish authorities would be coming after them. That doesn’t sound like an Easter faith to me. That sounds more like the kind of faith I have many times. Fear. Worry. And doubt.
The good news in our scripture is that the risen Christ returned to this same place, and this time Thomas was with them. Jesus enters the room and says, “Peace be with you.” By the way, isn’t this a wonderful way to begin a meeting? To remind people that even in the midst of our doubts, questions, and uncertainties, that God’s peace is with us.
And then we have this dramatic scene where Jesus turns to Thomas and invites Thomas to actually touch the wounds of his body to help him move from doubt to belief. I always find it interesting that John never specifically says that Thomas actually touched those wounds. But he does tell us that Thomas responded with a powerful statement of faith, “My Lord and my God!”
And then we have the ending of the Gospel. John writes, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
“Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
John wrote his Gospel for those of us who did not have the opportunity to physically see and touch the resurrected Lord. But notice how our scripture reading concludes.
I have this image in my mind where Jesus turns his head away from the disciples, looks into a video camera, and turns his attention to us. He looks at you and me in that camera and says, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” And if you think about it, Jesus does bless us if our hearts are open to see his presence in our day-to-day living.
Like the day when I was visiting a mission site where volunteers from a several of United Methodist churches serve at a soup kitchen and a free clothing store. Someone in our group that day asked the volunteers and staff members who work there, “How do you keep your faith strong when you’re working in this kind of impoverished and dangerous environment?”
And one of the workers responded by saying that they keep their faith strong by realizing that they are helping one person at a time. This worker pointed at another volunteer sitting next to her and said,
“This woman sitting here next to me is the reason that my faith stays strong. Thanks to God’s grace and this mission site, this person has been able to find a better life for herself and for her children and she has been able to break free of poverty. She now has her own home, and while it may be a very modest home, it is still a big step forward for her.”
I left that mission site thinking feeling so blessed. “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
I received this personal letter one year. It was right after we had celebrated Easter Sunday.
“Pastor Robert, You may remember me. I visited your church several times now, but have not been able to since January, due to some very difficult days in my life. The chemo given to me beginning in January has caused some difficult side effects. Also, we experienced the sudden death of one of our sons in February. I’ve enclosed the memorial folder from his service which was most uplifting. So…as I said, we’ve had difficult times of late. Time heals, they say – we’re relying on that. Our son’s death has not diminished my faith at all for he was a child of God, and it is clear (the word “clear” is underlined) it is clear to me where he is now. This brings me much comfort. Easter blessings!” And then she signed her name.
How has this woman been able to stay strong in her faith? She has believed without seeing.
Our reading from the Book of Acts, tells us about how Peter boldly proclaimed the good news of Jesus Christ to the people of Jerusalem. The disciples were able to move from their betrayals, and their denials and become the bold witnesses that Jesus had called them to be.
They were still people who had doubts – but now they had the power of the Holy Spirit at work in their lives. They were given an assurance that Jesus would always be with them.
Maybe we can identify with Thomas who needed some assurance that Jesus had truly risen from the dead. We long to know that there is life in the midst of so much pain and brokenness in our world. And today, we have this Gospel reading about Thomas and his doubts and how he came to a deeper faith in the resurrection of Jesus Christ.
T.S. Eliot once said, “These are only hints and guesses, Hints followed by guesses; and the rest is prayer, observance, discipline, thought, and action.”
Prayer, observance, discipline, thought, and action. And yet through these things, Jesus offers us his peace and blessings.
I was listening to the news one day which was even more depressing than usual and was feeling really down because of it. You could say that I was in need of a blessing in that moment, some sign that the Risen Christ was present in the midst of so much sadness in the world.
And that’s when I received a phone call from some dear friends who just had their baby. They said it was a girl. And they were naming her, “Grace.”
Mom and baby Grace were all healthy and doing well. What a beautiful name. “Grace.” That phone call made me smile because it dawned on me that God had literally just sent me some grace.
These hints and guesses remind us that the Risen Christ continues to say to each one of us, “Peace be with you.”
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