The story about Thomas in
today’s Gospel is about the promised Spirit of God binding all of Jesus’
followers together in a trusting relationship with the risen Christ. When Thomas overcame his natural
skepticism and came to his senses he stated his declaration of faith, "my
Lord and my God." This
statement, “my Lord and my God” identified the risen Christ for all time. It was and is a word of hope for
generations of later Christians.
Our doubts, our skepticism like that of Thomas, are an invitation to
deeper faith and to unbelievable blessing.
We are told that on the evening
of that first Easter Day when Jesus appeared to the disciples Thomas wasn’t
with them. Later, he heard a
second-hand account of Jesus coming into the midst of the disciples and saying
to them, "Peace be with you."
Thomas's absence from that meeting of Jesus with the disciples signifies
the difference between the visible risen Christ on the first Easter day and on
all of Jesus’ followers since that time.
John wrote his gospel to a community that had never seen Jesus or any of
the first disciples in the flesh.
How were they able to believe?
How were they, and how are we able to trust, to have faith in something not
seen?
The word “belief” as it is
translated in the gospel is not a fully accurate translation of the Greek. The Greek word in the text is pisteo, which means faith or trust. To say I trust in someone or something is
more like giving my heart to it rather than simply stating a belief. We can believe at an intellectual
level, but trust and faith are matters of the heart. Trust implies a greater commitment
than a simple statement of belief.
Doubt and faith are two sides
of the same coin. To doubt is
human. Doubt is inextricably
linked with faith. You cannot have
faith without also doubting.
Otherwise, it is not faith but rational or objective thought and scientific
evidence. The issue then is not whether we doubt, but what we doubt."
"Blessed are those who
have not seen and yet have come to have faith, to trust." Thomas was not the weakest of the
disciples because of his questions of doubt. The other disciples had seen the risen Christ, but Thomas had not seen and refused to
commit himself. The resurrection
was too amazing, too awesome and miraculous an event to be taken simply at an
intellectual level without the most concrete evidence and irrefutable
proof.
Thomas exemplified a mentality
familiar to most of us. When we
are confronted with a claim that sounds incredible or outrageous and completely
contrary to all the knowledge we possess, we ask whether there is some
alternative explanation, something more reasonable or rational. We can't base our facts on fairy tales
or on improbable hypotheses. So
Thomas, in refusing to accept what his friends were saying, was being an honest
and reasonable skeptic.
Besides that, he was still grieving
the loss of a close friend. Jesus
had been killed. He was dead and
buried. Although the body was
missing from the tomb, Thomas had seen nothing to counteract his grief. He was not interested in cheap
consolation, and he did not want anyone to tell him that everything would be
all right. It wasn't. For Jesus somehow to reappear
as-good-as-new would make a mockery of his death and of Thomas's grief. To erase the scars would make the
suffering meaningless. Thomas
therefore had to see the evidence, the wounds in Jesus' hands and side, before
he could trust the reports.
The question for us is whether
we, like Thomas, can see in the risen Christ a wounded God who takes suffering
seriously. Think of an unjust or
unexplainable tragedy you have known.
Perhaps it was a young friend or relative who died as the result of an
accident or serious illness. We
all know about tragic deaths: tornadoes, car accidents, train wrecks and plane
crashes. Our response is often one
of anger. Why did it happen? It was so unfair. Pain and suffering and many deaths are
wrong. We are saddened and we
grieve. And God is saddened and
sickened by such deaths.
The God who suffered and died
is the God who is known in the risen Christ. The God of Easter bears the power of life and the scars of
death. Christ is victorious over
death, but the price has been paid.
The price of loving is pain; living involves suffering.
One thing the evangelists were
certain of was that the community they belonged to was one whose chief legacy
from Jesus was a peace the world cannot give. "Peace be with
you." As Jesus first greeted
the disciples, reassured them and allayed their fears, so we should not be
afraid of the awesome times in which we live.
"Peace be with
you." Jesus greeted the
disciples a second time and commended his ministry of forgiveness and
reconciliation to them. The message
for us is that we are also called to be ambassadors of reconciliation, to be
ministers of forgiveness, and to break down the barriers of race, class, sex,
and religion that keep us from loving our neighbors as we love ourselves. As the prophet Micah stated we are to
"do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God."
"Peace be with you." Blessed
are those who have not seen and yet have trust. We as followers of Jesus in this 21st century affirm
that we are able to love, create and seek meaning. We are members one of another, and we know that in and through
our relationships we are in relationship with God. Let us trust in that relationship of love, peace and the joy
of Christ’s resurrection. Amen.
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