Blessed Thomas, doubt no longer

Have you ever been in the company of a group of people who have had a shared experience which you haven’t been party to? It might be a holiday or a visit to the cinema, a book they’ve all read, or some sporting event. Anything.  As they discuss it you begin to feel totally excluded. You have nothing to contribute and you have no real idea what they are going on about. You might simply lapse into silence and hope that they’ll change the subject soon or you might begin to act peevishly and perversely. 

I must admit that sometimes (very rarely, of course!) I do the latter.   For example when people discuss a book they have all clearly enjoyed I make a mental note never to read it or I might say something like, “I’ve always found that particular author rather over-rated”  Or, if they are discussing a film, I might suggest that the leading film star is well passed their prime.  Dropped into the conversation in a particular way these comments can become great conversation stoppers and if delivered in a slightly superior way can soon have others shifting uncomfortably which is, to the perverse mind, very satisfying.

I wonder if Thomas felt a bit like that when he was told by the other disciples that they had seen the Lord?  Obviously something so stupendous as the Resurrection of their Lord and Master was bound to create an excited reaction not least because it was something they had all experienced. They couldn’t wait to tell Thomas who, for some reason hadn’t been with them. He was therefore excluded from the most momentous event in human history and there is a feeling from his reaction that he was more than a bit put out.

His “I will not believe” unless he saw for himself the wounds of Christ is very emphatic. This is the language of the one who feels excluded. Unless I’m given proof nothing you say can convince me. Talk about killing people’s joy! Hardly surprisingly he became known as ‘doubting Thomas’ which became something that was applied to any who might harbour any doubt about anything.  But , as always, there is more,  to this incident.

Thomas was a man of great loyalty and determination. We met him earlier in the Gospel during the raising of Lazarus from the dead. As Jesus set out to perform this greatest of miracles Thomas sensed that it would lead to something dreadful – Christ’s own death – as it proved to be the case for the Jewish authorities, on hearing of it, determined that Jesus should die.  Thomas uttered a very different thing to doubt when he urged the disciples to go with Jesus to Lazarus – “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”  Brave words but not, subsequently, matched with brave action. Like all the disciples apart from John, he fled from the Garden of Gethsemane after our Lord’s arrest.  But it does show that Thomas was an eager and faithful disciple – even if, as happens sometimes, determination to be loyal isn’t always carried out in deeds.

And Thomas, like the other disciples, had to live with those failures which are the hardest to bear – that of letting down a friend in need and ditching one’s convictions when the going gets tough.  So when Thomas met the disciples after the Resurrection, he was a bit hang-dog. His tail was between his legs. He couldn’t share their joy because his heart was heavy with guilt. Nor, perhaps, could he understand why they were so cock-a-hoop. Hadn’t they failed Jesus too?

Well yes, but they had experienced the joy of the Risen Christ which swept guilt away and which, in many ways, made their failure irrelevant. God, it seems, doesn’t get too worked up by our failure if he sees that, in our hearts, we are trying hard to make good. Thankfully, God sees our potential to be far better people than we sometimes feel is the case ourselves. Even at those times when I don’t believe in myself, it’s a truth that I have often experienced that God seems to believe in me – and has some strange notion that I can be a better person who is capable of much more than I can see myself.

It was Bishop John Robinson who, speaking of Christ and by extension of ourselves, coined the phrase ‘More Than’. As Christ is bigger than, more than,  simply the human Jesus – he is God – so our potential to be like Him, made in his image and likeness is greater than we dare to imagine and our lives have the capability of being more full and more centred on God.

That’s what meeting the Risen Christ did for the disciples – it gave them a greater understanding of what Life was about and a vision of its eternal quality in God’s presence – a quality expressed through the triumph of love.

Thomas, however, lacked that experience and words about it were not enough.  A bit like the group I mentioned at the beginning of this sermon whose words do not convince us, Thomas wasn’t convinced by what his friends told him of God’s triumph in Christ – a victory of love over hate and sin and death.  You may know the feeling.  For example if you are going through the mill or feeling lonely or dealing with loss; if you are coping with illness or perhaps a broken relationship it isn’t perhaps helpful if you hear people like me talking about the love of God and about love being everything – especially if it seems to be absent. No amount of discussion about love is going to help you experience it.  In the end words alone do not convert people.

One of the problems with Theology is that it can so easily become a series of dry statements about what belief should be like. Even simple theology which concentrates on trying to manufacture a feel-good factor has its failings. Belief and understanding have often to be forged in the most unpromising of circumstances. Those who have never wrestled with doubt cannot be much help with those struggling to understand the love of God when all is darkness – as it was for Thomas. Those who live by blind certainty and in watertight cubicles of narrow belief have little to say to a complex world which is struggling with multi-faith, multi-cultural issues. Christian triumphalism which sought to convert people by forcing them to conform to some narrow path  is no longer  enough for today’s world.

On the personal level, people are often struggling with what it means to be a Christian in a mixed  society and with what Jesus has to say to their own often muddled circumstance.  Words, even witnessing words, like those of the disciples to Thomas, will not necessarily have real impact unless they are matched by experience.

Someone once defined theology correctly as a reflection on and  a participation in a faith. It is not enough to think about God – we have to experience Him. This is where the Sacramental life of the Church comes in – where Christ touches our lives not only in Scripture but through tangible things like bread and wine, water and oil.

It is also where love and prayer come in. We  participate theologically in the life of faith when we experience and share in a love which understands where we are coming from and which doesn’t demand that we start from somewhere else. Our just being there for people and caring about them is often enough to help them to an experience of love which converts. They do not have to receive a lot of words, comforting or otherwise – the signs that many seek are not verbal but visual. A touch, a hug, a standing alongside does far more to express God’s desire to hold them in love.

And then there is prayer. The Orthodox Church has a saying that a theologian is one whose prayer is true. Unless our prayer comes from the depths of our hearts it will be superficial. And sometimes the depths of our heart is hurting, or longing and searching, so our prayer must be honest prayer.  But  it is possible that when another shows us that God is deeply concerned for us that prayer is transformed into a profound confession of faith that  is breathtaking.

So it was for Thomas.  The disciples’ words were superseded by Christ appearing to him. The Risen Jesus did not immediately set out to convince Thomas with words about the meaning of resurrection – a resurrection which Thomas needed to feel in his own soul as something personal to him which changed his life of deadness and dread into hope and joy. No – Jesus simply offered him a sign – touch me here and here and here.  This was sheer love. Jesus had refused signs in the past but he placed himself where the need of Thomas was greatest. He needed reassurance. He needed to know that Jesus was there for him.

And that is all he needed. For immediately Thomas moved straight into prayer. No longer the prayer of dejection. No longer the prayer of guilt. No longer the prayer of one who wanted so desperately to believe but couldn’t. Instead, pure, simple and profound faith.

‘My Lord and My God’.

One of the simplest and yet greatest prayers ever uttered.

But what of us, who have not seen. What of us in our struggles and doubts, uncertainties and fears?   What will convince us that the Risen Lord is indeed the Lord of our lives and the God of our salvation? 

My conviction is  that to those who really want to believe that the Resurrection is about the transformation of their lives, God will find his own way of convincing about his love for us. In his appearance to Thomas he made a big statement – even if all the Church shouts for joy and you feel left out, do not despair – Jesus is saying -  I shall find a way to come to you, even if the door to your heart is, for whatever reason, shut against me.

That is our Lord’s promise. Therein lies our hope.  Don’t take my word for it – take His.