Doubting Thomas, Faithful Thomas

Acts 5:27-32, Psalm 118,

Revelation 1:4-8, John 20:19-31

"But faith is uncertain in so far as the infinite to which it is related is received by a finite being. This element of uncertainty in faith cannot be removed, it must be accepted. And the element in faith which accepts this is courage. Faith includes an element of immediate awareness which gives certainty and an element of uncertainty." (Paul Tillich, Dynamics of Faith, 18-19)

It’s Thomas Sunday, yet again. “Doubting Thomas” – the one we love to ridicule, often held up as the model of what not to be. “Don’t be a Doubting Thomas!” is a phrase I heard more than once in my life. I saw a cartoon recently in which Thomas is lamenting to Peter and Mark. “All I’m saying,” Thomas says, “is we don’t call Peter ‘Denying Peter’ or Mark ‘Ran Away Naked Mark.’ Why should I be saddled with this title?” But the moniker stuck and so we have “Doubting Thomas.” I dare say that “Doubting Thomas” could be the patron saint of the contemporary world.

Reported to have had a twin, perhaps identical, Thomas might well have known what mistaken identity was all about. He could easily the eyes could deceive. Thomas couldn’t just take the disciples’ word about having seen Jesus alive, after all they all knew him to be dead. No, Thomas needed proof. Thomas needed to see, but not just see, Thomas needed to touch and feel.

“Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” Jesus’ response to Thomas would seem to point to us. We weren’t at the empty tomb, running in or just stooping to peer. We didn’t see the angels not did we hear Jesus call us by name. We weren’t with the eleven in the Upper Room when Jesus seemed to walk through walls to appear to his fearful disciples. They got to see Jesus and witness, first-hand, the resurrection.

WE ARE DOUBTING THOMASES

You know, when we hear the stories of Jesus and the disciples, we have a tendency to connect with one character or another, identifying with their position or their problems or their response. Maybe you connect with Peter, fearful in the face of danger yet strident in the end with love for Jesus. Maybe you connect with the women caught in adultery who needed to hear Jesus, “You are forgiven.” Or maybe you connect with Matthew, despised by his fellow citizens yet invited from his tax collecting booth to follow Jesus. I connect with Paul, struggling to find my way at times, deeply committed to the love of God in Christ Jesus, and just a little arrogant in my knowing it (I’m working on it!). Maybe you connect with the women – those strong women who stayed with Jesus despite the danger and who went and told the others that Jesus had risen, at least in John’s version of the story, to be not believed.

Whoever it might be, I bet that at one time or another, perhaps right now, we have all connected with Thomas – Doubting Thomas. We all have doubts. We all want proof.

Most of us desire precision in the Gospel narratives, an accurateness about the life stories of Jesus. The desire stems from this need for proof. We think that if all the witnesses would just agree, we can have the necessary proof to say that this is exactly how it happened. We want a clean narrative to tell, a neat and tidy package in our minds. But that isn’t what we get, is it? What we have, instead, is a package might not stand up to the rigors of the United States Postal Service. While we long for a neat and tidy package to hold our faith and to help us keep on the sometimes rocky path of life’s journey, what we get instead is a jumbled untidiness of eyewitness accounts – reflections, sometimes decades past after their occurrence, of how God in Jesus Christ changed the lives of these women and men called Apostles.

• Some see only the empty tomb. Some rush in to examine the cloth.

• Some see one angel, some see two angels.

• Some see Jesus and some talk to Jesus, and some only recognize Jesus in the breaking of the bread.

Regardless, everyone seems to be a little surprised at seeing Jesus, taken a little off guard by the resurrection. And so, maybe the disciples aren’t able to tell their stories with the kind of accuracy that we demand. They struggle to deal with how resurrection works and they are still afraid.

JESUS CAME TO THE UPPER ROOM

Jesus comes to them in their fear, in their confusion, and in their doubts. Jesus greets them, “Shalom…Peace be with you.” A traditional Jewish greeting. He even makes a return visit the next week for Thomas, absent the at the first visit, so that Thomas can experience the resurrection in person.

Jesus didn’t come to that upper room in blaze of glory, surrounded by a choir of angels to the fanfare of trumpets. The resurrected Jesus wasn’t welcomed by kings or visited by shepherds, at least not yet. Instead, Jesus came quietly, seeming to disturb and surprise the disciples. Jesus came with his wounds. Jesus was the wounded savior coming to his wounded disciples. Jesus not come in a neat and tidy package but still bearing the marks his humanity, still showing the signs of his being made flesh and dwelling among us. We normally fight to hide our wounded-ness, struggle to hide them as marks of weakness. But the resurrected Christ bears his wounds, meets us, and brings peace. Jesus’ resurrection gives us hope that we will be healed and made whole.

The resurrected Jesus came to the disciples in the upper room bringing peace. He breathed his Spirit on them, sending them just as the Father sent the Son to love, give life, restore hope, and bring forgiveness and peace. In the second story of creation from Genesis 2, God formed Adam out of the dust of the earth, breathing in him the breath of life. In the upper room, Jesus breathes the restoring life of God into the disciples. As God breathed new life into Adam, so Jesus breathes new life making a new people. Our presence here this morning gives witness to the power of the that life giving Spirit present in the disciples and in the church throughout the ages.

This story must not be seen as simply a vignette frozen in time in that upper room in Jerusalem. This is good news at its best that transcends space and time. Jesus breathed on his disciples. Jesus breathes on us. And like those early disciples, Jesus sends us as the Father had sent the Son. When we practice forgiveness…when we give peace…when we demonstrate love…. when we overcome the power of death in its many forms – hatred, violence, indifference… when we find life, the spirit of Christ is alive. We are an Easter people and resurrection life is lived in this time and place. We might not be able to “prove” the resurrection; but, we can point to it, demonstrate it when we are signs that the life of Christ is enfleshed in us and in our community.

DOUBT IS A PART OF FAITH

The story of the appearance of Jesus to Thomas in the upper room should act as a reminder to us that doubts do not disqualify us from discipleship. For that matter, neither does denying or running away naked, being fearful or ill-equipped. When Jesus sees Thomas, he says to him, “Do not doubt, but believe.” Paul Tillich, philosopher and theologian form the early twentieth century, maintained that doubt wasn’t the opposite of faith; but, rather, doubt is an essential element of faith.

"We now return to a fuller description of faith as an act of the human personality. An act of faith is an act of a finite being who is grasped by and turned to the infinite. It is a finite act with all the limitations of a finite act, and it is an act in which the infinite participates beyond the limitations of a finite act. Faith is certain in so far as it is an experience of the holy. But faith is uncertain in so far as the infinite to which it is related is received by a finite being. This element of uncertainty in faith cannot be removed, it must be accepted. And the element in faith which accepts this is courage. Faith includes an element of immediate awareness which gives certainty and an element of uncertainty. To accept this is courage. In the courageous standing of uncertainty, faith shows most visibly its dynamic character." (Dynamics of Faith, 18-19)

Frederick Buechner, contemporary spiritual writer, puts it more succinctly, “Whether your faith is that there is a God or that there is not a God, if you don’t have any doubts you are either kidding yourself or asleep. Doubts are the ants in the pants of faith.” (Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC). Doubts do not us from discipleship or from being sent, they keep us moving, searching, and seeking.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:1-5)

In the cross, it appeared that the darkness overcame light. In resurrection, we are shown that the light still shines. Jesus sent the disciples to continue his work, to be the light in the world. Their future changed when Jesus breathed the Spirit on them. The same Spirit was given us in our baptism, we are sealed by the Holy Spirit and made Christ’s own forever. We, too, have a new future because of Christ’s resurrection. We, too, have been commissioned to spread the light of Christ.

On this April morning, as the world outside our doors has put away the baskets and the bunnies and eaten the chocolate…as they have put away Easter and moved on, we remain challenged to live as an Easter people, as though the resurrection illumines our way, our truth, and our life. We remain an Easter people, reaching out and embracing a future of light and life. We remain an Easter people, making our way in the world, challenged to seek forgiveness and peace, light and love. We remain challenged as an Easter people because this is the work of Jesus and the work of the Church. We may look at ourselves and see a mess of Doubting Thomases, Denying Peters, and Running-Away-Naked Marks, but we are challenged to remember God sees beloved children, faithful friends, spirit-filled partners in the ongoing work of creation.