"No Doubt"
4-27-14 (Easter 2A)
1 Peter 1:3-9; John 20:19-31
No Doubt
So here we are - it’s just after Easter Sunday. We’ve celebrated the big day of the church, we’ve shouted out “He is Risen” with joy and excitement. And many of us have now spent the last week recovering somewhat after the busy-ness and excitement of Holy Week. So as we come together today, it’s an interesting and kind of strange time to find ourselves in inside the church year. For many churches, this is a Sunday much like the Sunday after Christmas. It’s a kind of a “low” Sunday - many pastors take this Sunday off, and it’s sometimes jokingly called “Associate Pastor Sunday” or “Seminary Student Sunday.” It’s a Sunday where many churches also see a lot less people coming to worship - we had the pews packed to capacity last Sunday, but now that Easter has come and gone, now that families have gone home from Easter breaks and visiting, we find ourselves feeling a bit… emptier.
But as I look at the text today, I start to wonder - aren’t we getting it backwards to feel like this today? The lectionary certainly doesn’t treat today like a day off in the span of things: it picks up exactly where it left off at the end of last Sunday’s Easter reading. The resurrection may be the climax of John’s Gospel, but things are far from wrapping up and going to the end credits. Last week, we left on a cliffhanger; Jesus appears to Mary and she comes bursting in the door to tell the disciples the good news: “I have seen the risen Lord!” and then… cut. Now it’s later in the evening and the disciples are still hiding behind locked doors for fear of the Jewish authorities and the crowds that arrested Jesus. We never hear what their reaction to Mary’s announcement is, but it seems from the situation that John drops us into, they didn’t leap to believe her. And we can’t really blame them - after all, an announcement like Mary’s pushes every boundary of belief, even for the people who have seen the empty tomb. For some, it probably sounded like nothing but wishful thinking and some kind of hallucination brought about by grief. Maybe it really was the gardener and she managed to convince herself after the fact that it had been Jesus. For others, they wanted it to be true, but they just didn’t know how it was possible. Some probably believed her, or at least started to - such a passion to her story, such conviction: surely they weren’t coming out of some kind of fantasy… John and Peter are strangely silent in this gathered room of disciples, despite seeing the empty tomb for themselves, despite the Gospel saying that John saw and believed… there’s a kind of shock under which the disciples have been living ever since the events of that Friday. They don’t know what to believe, what to know is real, or even what to do in the midst of all the things that are happening around them anymore.
But for the disciples gathered in that place at that particular moment, the question is about to be answered definitively. Jesus suddenly appears among them. He shows them his hands and his side. He charges them with a purpose and a mission the same as he’d charged Mary, then he breathes on them and gives them the Holy Spirit, telling them that they have the power to forgive sins. He doesn’t leave any doubts, any questions - he is, in fact, Risen, and now all the disciples gathered in that place know this fact with certainty.
All, that is… but Thomas. Poor Thomas here misses out on the whole thing. We don’t know why he’s not in the locked room with all the other disciples. For all we know, he could have missed Jesus’ appearance for something as benign as that it was his turn to go out and get pizza. Whatever the situation had been, the disciples run into Thomas shortly thereafter and tell him “We have seen the Lord!”
Thomas’ response, for some reason, is apparently something we didn’t expect. Because the only reason we even know who Thomas was anymore in our general church knowledge is out of the phrase “Doubting Thomas.” While Thomas does express a profound difficulty processing and believing what his friends have told him, you have to ask: does that really make him worthy of the name “Doubting Thomas?” If your friends were to tell you something as incredible as what the disciples were springing on Thomas, wouldn’t your first reaction be to say “I don’t believe it!” as well? Thomas wasn’t the only one who doubted! In John’s gospel, everyone has trouble believing what they hear at first. Mary thinks Jesus is the gardener. Peter and the other disciple walk away from the empty tomb not knowing what it means. And people have simply failed to get it through the entirety of John’s Gospel. So we really have no reason to feel surprised at Thomas’ reaction here when the disciples tell him the same thing that Mary told them: “We have seen the Lord!” Just as Mary and the disciples before him responded with doubt to the resurrection of Christ and the proclamation of its reality to others, so too does Thomas.
It’s tempting at this point to make a lesson of Thomas - it’s easy enough to do. It’s what a lot of sermons on this passage even tend to do. “We need to be people of faith, people who believe the message of the Gospel.” We focus on Jesus’ beatitude, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet come to believe.” We make Thomas out to be weak, to be an example of what not to do. Thomas nearly missed out - why should we do the same? And then, once we’re good and secured in our own faith, we can sit back comfortably, pat ourselves on the back and rest easily knowing that we’re not like Thomas, that we don’t have to see it to believe it. And that’s the end of the story. Amen. Let’s sing the last hymn and get home to lunch.
But if Thomas becomes simply a lesson in not doubting, we do as much a disservice to ourselves as we do to Thomas. Thomas asks for nothing more than that which all of Christ’s other followers have so far received - he wants to see the risen Christ, too. He wants to be able to see, to touch, to know that Jesus is risen, that the disciples aren’t participating in a group exercise in wishful thinking and self-deception.
It’s a natural reaction for Thomas to have. It’s only been three days since Jesus was brutally crucified and laid in the tomb in the first place - it’d be enough to make anyone question what is real anymore and what is not. And yet we’ve made this disciple - the same one who we heard just three weeks ago expressing so much devotion to Christ that he encouraged the other disciples to follow him back into the thick of danger “that we may die with him” as they go to visit Lazarus - we’ve made him into a scapegoat, telling us that it’s not okay to have doubts.
So we do Thomas a great disservice when we place the focus of this passage on his doubts. But we also do ourselves a great disservice because when we turn the passage into “don’t doubt, just believe,” we end up missing something even greater that happens throughout this story - Thomas misses out on seeing Jesus, and yet Jesus is still faithful to Thomas. Jesus actually shows up again just a week later and gives Thomas exactly what he has asked for. This is perhaps the most amazing part of the story, to me - that Christ goes out of his way to show himself to Thomas and to include Thomas into the same experience that the other disciples had received, despite Thomas missing it the first time. And in giving Thomas that reassurance that he has asked for, Jesus ensures that Thomas himself continues to participate in the joy of the Easter resurrection and the proclamation of the gospel. As soon as Thomas sees Jesus in the flesh, his proclamation is the first and strongest proclamation of Jesus’ true identity among any of the disciples - he cries out “My Lord and my God!” This is the first proclamation of Jesus’ divinity from anyone in John’s Gospel - and it comes from the one we know only as “Doubting Thomas.”
This is the power of Christ’s faithfulness - and this is the invitation which is extended to us, as well. Despite our own multitude of doubts, despite our questions and the things we may not understand, Jesus time and time again works inside of those doubts, pushing us to further understanding, moving us to further growth and a deeper experience of our risen Lord, so that each of us, too, can say “My Lord and My God!” What’s more, Jesus keeps on showing up in our midst, week after week, even - as we gather together as Christ’s own disciples today. Jesus shows up to us in the Scriptures, in the sharing of the Communion meal, in the reminder of our baptism and adoption into Christ himself - because Christ desires that nobody should miss out on what he is doing in this world. And so we are invited to participate in that mission, to go out from whatever doors we may be keeping locked out of fear, or doubt, or disbelief, and to proclaim with joy and reassurance that the Risen Christ is, indeed, our Lord and our God. To him be all glory, now and forevermore. Amen.
1 Peter 1:3-9; John 20:19-31
No Doubt
So here we are - it’s just after Easter Sunday. We’ve celebrated the big day of the church, we’ve shouted out “He is Risen” with joy and excitement. And many of us have now spent the last week recovering somewhat after the busy-ness and excitement of Holy Week. So as we come together today, it’s an interesting and kind of strange time to find ourselves in inside the church year. For many churches, this is a Sunday much like the Sunday after Christmas. It’s a kind of a “low” Sunday - many pastors take this Sunday off, and it’s sometimes jokingly called “Associate Pastor Sunday” or “Seminary Student Sunday.” It’s a Sunday where many churches also see a lot less people coming to worship - we had the pews packed to capacity last Sunday, but now that Easter has come and gone, now that families have gone home from Easter breaks and visiting, we find ourselves feeling a bit… emptier.
But as I look at the text today, I start to wonder - aren’t we getting it backwards to feel like this today? The lectionary certainly doesn’t treat today like a day off in the span of things: it picks up exactly where it left off at the end of last Sunday’s Easter reading. The resurrection may be the climax of John’s Gospel, but things are far from wrapping up and going to the end credits. Last week, we left on a cliffhanger; Jesus appears to Mary and she comes bursting in the door to tell the disciples the good news: “I have seen the risen Lord!” and then… cut. Now it’s later in the evening and the disciples are still hiding behind locked doors for fear of the Jewish authorities and the crowds that arrested Jesus. We never hear what their reaction to Mary’s announcement is, but it seems from the situation that John drops us into, they didn’t leap to believe her. And we can’t really blame them - after all, an announcement like Mary’s pushes every boundary of belief, even for the people who have seen the empty tomb. For some, it probably sounded like nothing but wishful thinking and some kind of hallucination brought about by grief. Maybe it really was the gardener and she managed to convince herself after the fact that it had been Jesus. For others, they wanted it to be true, but they just didn’t know how it was possible. Some probably believed her, or at least started to - such a passion to her story, such conviction: surely they weren’t coming out of some kind of fantasy… John and Peter are strangely silent in this gathered room of disciples, despite seeing the empty tomb for themselves, despite the Gospel saying that John saw and believed… there’s a kind of shock under which the disciples have been living ever since the events of that Friday. They don’t know what to believe, what to know is real, or even what to do in the midst of all the things that are happening around them anymore.
But for the disciples gathered in that place at that particular moment, the question is about to be answered definitively. Jesus suddenly appears among them. He shows them his hands and his side. He charges them with a purpose and a mission the same as he’d charged Mary, then he breathes on them and gives them the Holy Spirit, telling them that they have the power to forgive sins. He doesn’t leave any doubts, any questions - he is, in fact, Risen, and now all the disciples gathered in that place know this fact with certainty.
All, that is… but Thomas. Poor Thomas here misses out on the whole thing. We don’t know why he’s not in the locked room with all the other disciples. For all we know, he could have missed Jesus’ appearance for something as benign as that it was his turn to go out and get pizza. Whatever the situation had been, the disciples run into Thomas shortly thereafter and tell him “We have seen the Lord!”
Thomas’ response, for some reason, is apparently something we didn’t expect. Because the only reason we even know who Thomas was anymore in our general church knowledge is out of the phrase “Doubting Thomas.” While Thomas does express a profound difficulty processing and believing what his friends have told him, you have to ask: does that really make him worthy of the name “Doubting Thomas?” If your friends were to tell you something as incredible as what the disciples were springing on Thomas, wouldn’t your first reaction be to say “I don’t believe it!” as well? Thomas wasn’t the only one who doubted! In John’s gospel, everyone has trouble believing what they hear at first. Mary thinks Jesus is the gardener. Peter and the other disciple walk away from the empty tomb not knowing what it means. And people have simply failed to get it through the entirety of John’s Gospel. So we really have no reason to feel surprised at Thomas’ reaction here when the disciples tell him the same thing that Mary told them: “We have seen the Lord!” Just as Mary and the disciples before him responded with doubt to the resurrection of Christ and the proclamation of its reality to others, so too does Thomas.
It’s tempting at this point to make a lesson of Thomas - it’s easy enough to do. It’s what a lot of sermons on this passage even tend to do. “We need to be people of faith, people who believe the message of the Gospel.” We focus on Jesus’ beatitude, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet come to believe.” We make Thomas out to be weak, to be an example of what not to do. Thomas nearly missed out - why should we do the same? And then, once we’re good and secured in our own faith, we can sit back comfortably, pat ourselves on the back and rest easily knowing that we’re not like Thomas, that we don’t have to see it to believe it. And that’s the end of the story. Amen. Let’s sing the last hymn and get home to lunch.
But if Thomas becomes simply a lesson in not doubting, we do as much a disservice to ourselves as we do to Thomas. Thomas asks for nothing more than that which all of Christ’s other followers have so far received - he wants to see the risen Christ, too. He wants to be able to see, to touch, to know that Jesus is risen, that the disciples aren’t participating in a group exercise in wishful thinking and self-deception.
It’s a natural reaction for Thomas to have. It’s only been three days since Jesus was brutally crucified and laid in the tomb in the first place - it’d be enough to make anyone question what is real anymore and what is not. And yet we’ve made this disciple - the same one who we heard just three weeks ago expressing so much devotion to Christ that he encouraged the other disciples to follow him back into the thick of danger “that we may die with him” as they go to visit Lazarus - we’ve made him into a scapegoat, telling us that it’s not okay to have doubts.
So we do Thomas a great disservice when we place the focus of this passage on his doubts. But we also do ourselves a great disservice because when we turn the passage into “don’t doubt, just believe,” we end up missing something even greater that happens throughout this story - Thomas misses out on seeing Jesus, and yet Jesus is still faithful to Thomas. Jesus actually shows up again just a week later and gives Thomas exactly what he has asked for. This is perhaps the most amazing part of the story, to me - that Christ goes out of his way to show himself to Thomas and to include Thomas into the same experience that the other disciples had received, despite Thomas missing it the first time. And in giving Thomas that reassurance that he has asked for, Jesus ensures that Thomas himself continues to participate in the joy of the Easter resurrection and the proclamation of the gospel. As soon as Thomas sees Jesus in the flesh, his proclamation is the first and strongest proclamation of Jesus’ true identity among any of the disciples - he cries out “My Lord and my God!” This is the first proclamation of Jesus’ divinity from anyone in John’s Gospel - and it comes from the one we know only as “Doubting Thomas.”
This is the power of Christ’s faithfulness - and this is the invitation which is extended to us, as well. Despite our own multitude of doubts, despite our questions and the things we may not understand, Jesus time and time again works inside of those doubts, pushing us to further understanding, moving us to further growth and a deeper experience of our risen Lord, so that each of us, too, can say “My Lord and My God!” What’s more, Jesus keeps on showing up in our midst, week after week, even - as we gather together as Christ’s own disciples today. Jesus shows up to us in the Scriptures, in the sharing of the Communion meal, in the reminder of our baptism and adoption into Christ himself - because Christ desires that nobody should miss out on what he is doing in this world. And so we are invited to participate in that mission, to go out from whatever doors we may be keeping locked out of fear, or doubt, or disbelief, and to proclaim with joy and reassurance that the Risen Christ is, indeed, our Lord and our God. To him be all glory, now and forevermore. Amen.
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