Thomas
Thomas
John 20:24-29
One of the things that our confirmands should have learned is that at the Union Church there is room for doubts. There is room for asking questions. There is the chance to see things in a new way. What if God can be thought of as a mother and a father? What happens when you realize that there is not a single white person in the Bible? What if you challenge our images of Jesus as a blue eyed, blond haired white guy and think instead of him…oh, I don’t know…as a brown skinned, Middle Eastern, Jewish guy? My experience is that challenging our assumptions and asking our best questions is what brings faith to life!
(Here’s a little known fact. An awful lot of people who become pastors will tell you that when they went through confirmation, they were the ones in the room who asked challenging questions. They were also, often, the ones who chose not to be confirmed at first. Questions aren’t always evidence of someone just being a problem. Questions can be a signal that someone is taking things seriously!)
Last week, we left the disciples in a locked room with the risen Jesus. He did what he could to get to them because he needed them. And, instead of getting angry at them or telling them how disappointed he was in them or pointing out what a bunch of cowards they were, Jesus wishes them peace. He forgives them. He empowers them and tells them that they should forgive others. He meets them in the most personal way that he can. That’s when they finally begin to believe again.
Again and again, the story is that even people who knew Jesus, even people who went to the tomb and found it empty, even people who stood right in front of the risen Christ, didn’t “get it” until things became personal: Jesus breaks bread with the folks in Emma’s; Jesus whispers Mary’s name; Jesus meets the disciples in their shame and releases them from that shame.
The problem is that there were only 10 disciples there that day. Judas had betrayed Jesus for a bag of coins. Then, Judas ran away. Ultimately, in grief over what he had done, Judas took his own life. The other missing disciple? It was Thomas.
Who is Thomas? Good question! Most people never really ask that. Thomas was one of the disciples. He appears in all the Gospels but mostly in a “non-speaking” role. In the Gospel of John, though, Thomas speaks three times. When Jesus hears that his friend, Lazarus, has died and wants to go to Lazarus, Thomas, knowing the danger that Jesus would be in, urges the rest of the disciples to stand by Jesus: “Let us all go and die with him!” If this was the only moment that we had with Thomas, we would know him as “Thomas, the Brave.” This is a great moment of courage.
Later, we hear from Thomas again. Jesus has told the disciples that there will be a place prepared for them in heaven. Jesus seems to be saying that the world will be full of challenges for them but that they need to remember that those troubles won’t be the final word. Thomas rises to ask a really sincere question: “Lord, we don’t know where you’re going. How could we know the way?” Lord, I can imagine that place but I can also imagine getting lost along the way. How will we not get lost? If this was Thomas’s big moment, we might know him as “Thomas, the Questioner.” He’s just asking a sincere question, after all.
In our text, the problem for Thomas is that the other ten disciples have had a shared experience—an extraordinary experience—that has left them all believing that Jesus has, in fact, risen. I’d like to pause here and let you all know that my hope for us all is that when we have extraordinary experiences in our lives, they will be shared. It’s so much easier to figure out what to do with those experiences if someone can listen to you and say, “I know! I was there, too!” If you have an extraordinary experience, all by yourself, then sooner or later you have to doubt yourself: “What if I’m just crazy? What if I made the whole thing up?”
If, on the other hand, you have not had that experience but your 10 closest friends have, then how do you feel? You feel left out, right! “It’s all well and good that they are all comfy with their faith now but I wasn’t there. Why didn’t I matter enough for Jesus to wait for me to show up? Why didn’t Jesus wait for me?” We don’t know what Thomas was doing. Was he taking care of his family or getting food for everyone else or just taking a walk? What he wasn’t doing was gathering the hard evidence that he needed to believe!
So, what does Thomas do? He doubts and he makes those doubts knows. “I’m not going to believe until I get to see for myself, until I get to put my fingers in the nail holes, until I’ve got proof.” Honestly, this is not Thomas’s best moment. It feels a little like a tantrum, when the child in the grocery store throws themselves on the ground and demands a candy bar. However, we really should be honest enough to confess that when Thomas doubts what he’s really doing is showing us that he’s one of us.
Other people’s experiences are generally not convincing. Do you believe in love when you hear about someone else falling in love or do you believe when you fall in love, yourself? Do you believe someone else when they tell you who you should be when you grow up or do you have to learn that for yourself? Mostly, when we hear about other people’s wonderful experiences, we grit our teeth and choke out the words, “I’m happy for you!” Then, we are forced to acknowledge how uncomfortable our own jealousy makes us. It’s never our best side.
Here’s the thing: that kind of discomfort, even jealousy, is a really solid signal to us that something is missing. The problem is that our first guess on what is missing is almost always wrong. We are all stirred up and feeling kind of reactive. We haven’t had time to really sort things out and listen to what we are feeling. So, in Thomas’s case, the most intensely loaded thing he can name is this: “I’m not believing anything until I see for myself, until I’ve checked out those wounds. I want proof.” He gives his ultimatum. As you may know, it can feel so good to issue and ultimatum. It feels especially good if you stomp your foot while you’re doing it. However, you may also know that this good feeling fades fast.
So, “Thomas, the Brave” who was also “Thomas, the Questioner” now becomes “Thomas, the Doubter” and boy does this name stick! We should all remember that no one should be defined by a single moment. That’s just unfair and really misses how complex people really are. Why, then, does “Thomas, the Doubter” stick? I think there is such staying power in making Thomas a scapegoat precisely because his dilemma would be the dilemma of almost everyone who ever stood on the edge of becoming a follower of Christ. 99.99 percent of the followers of Christ were not there to hear him teach and preach and heal when he walked this earth. We were not there when he died and rose and appeared to a hand full of people. If “you had to be there” was going to be true, then the Christian faith was dead before it ever got started. The hurdle that Thomas was facing was the same hurdle that we all face.
By the end of our text, the risen Jesus will acknowledge this truth. He says to Thomas and the other disciples, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.” Again, the norm cannot be that only those who get to see will believe, especially since so many people who did get to see really struggled to actually see what was going on. Believing has to be about something other than gathering evidence and finding proof.
Still, though, it looks for all the world like Jesus has heard Thomas’s demand and has caved as our text begins. A week after Jesus had appeared to the other 10 disciples, Jesus shows up again. He holds out his hands and shows Thomas the holes. He shows him his side. “Do what you need to do, Thomas! Have at it, my friend.” Thomas, though, never lays a hand on Jesus’ hands. He never puts a finger in a wound. He never gathers a shred of forensic evidence. Instead, Thomas simply proclaims, “My Lord and My God!”
Thomas was sure that what he needed was proof. If you think about it though, what the other 10 disciples got had nothing to do with proof. They were afraid and ashamed and Jesus came to them in order to forgive them and give them peace. He met them in their most broken moment and cared enough to help them put the pieces back together again. Jesus came and things got personal. What they received was a restored relationship, not data, and they got to receive that restored relationship in community with other people.
So, Thomas knew he needed something but he was just wrong about what he needed. (God knows…seriously…God knows how wrong you and I have been about what we’ve needed along the way, too, right?). Thomas didn’t need proof. He needed to know that the risen Jesus was there for him, too, that Jesus still cared, that he mattered. And…(listen carefully now…) he needed to receive that reassurance in community with others, just like the other ten. The risen Jesus didn’t find him and share a quiet moment alone. Rather, Jesus met Thomas in a room full of friends.
Why do the friends matter? Why does community count? Why is faith a “group project?” When we are a community of faith or a gathering of friends and believers, we get to remind one another what matters and what doesn’t matter. I get to remind you when you’ve overwhelmed that God is with you and I can even remind you of the days when that truth was just to obvious to you. And you? You get to do the same for me on the days when the struggle is mine.
In a life of faith, we will have our brave moments and our moments of asking honest questions. We will also, at times, have our doubts. What will guide us through those times will always be God’s abiding, gentle, loving, forgiving presence and the presence of beloved people with whom we can bring faith to life.