John 20:19-31
April 19, 2020
Sometime in the years after Mother
Teresa died, private writings of hers came to light. They were journals and
letter, in which she wrote about her doubt. She wrote about her struggles with
her faith. She wrote about trying to reconcile what she believed with what she
saw on a daily basis in her work. And what she saw on a daily basis was some of
the most extreme poverty in the world. She saw people who were outcasts because
of their caste, because of physical disease and deformities, because of the
terrible, gut twisting, mind blowing poverty in which they suffered. Mother
Teresa, who was considered a saint long before she died, had doubts.
I remember when these papers first
came out, that there was an outcry. Mother Teresa confessing to doubt rattled
the faith of some. Others saw this as proof that this humble woman was really a
victim of the abusive institution that we call the church. But I’ll be honest,
when I first heard about this I thought, “She was real. She was a real human
being, a real person, who struggled and questioned and pushed back at God just
like so many people … just like me.
Doubt and I walk hand-in-hand. But
that is something I hesitated to admit for a long, long time, especially as a
pastor, and also because of stories like this one from John’s gospel; the story
that I grew up hearing referred to as “Doubting Thomas.”
I have been called a lot of things
in my life; been given a few nicknames, some that I don’t mind and some that I
hope have been forgotten. But one thing I never wanted to be called was
“Doubting Thomas.” Whoever might be referring to you as a Doubting Thomas made
it clear from their tone, their expression, the downward, disapproving turn of
their mouth, that to be a Doubting Thomas was to be bad. If you were a Doubting
Thomas, that meant that you didn’t believe, that you didn’t have a good, strong
faith. It meant that you were somehow not right with God. Doubt equaled bad.
Faith equaled good.
But it seems to me, and I have said
this before and I will say it again, the interpretations of this passage over
the centuries has given Thomas the short end of the stick. Because in truth,
Thomas was no different than the other disciples.
When Jesus first appeared to them,
they were hiding in a locked room, fearful that the authorities would come for
them the same way they came for Jesus. And this is after the empty tomb. This
is after Mary Magdalene ran to them and cried, “I have seen the Lord!” Easter
had not changed them much. They were hiding. They were scared, and I suspect
they were filled with doubt.
But locked doors could not keep
Jesus out. He came to them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he showed them
his hands and his side. Again, he said, “Peace be with you. As my Father has
sent me, so I send you.” And he breathed on them, giving them the Holy Spirit.
This is John’s Pentecost.
But Thomas was not there. For
whatever reason, he was not with the other disciples behind those locked doors.
He didn’t witness Jesus risen. He didn’t see the wounds on Jesus’ hands and
side. The others told him the same thing Mary told them, “We have seen the
Lord.” But Thomas has the boldness to say out loud what he wants, what he needs
for belief.
“Unless I see the mark of the nails
in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his
side, I will not believe.”
Thomas wanted to see what the other
disciples saw. Did that mean he was doubtful? Maybe, but doubt and faith are
not opposites. Doubt and faith are different sides of the same coin. The
opposite of faith is not doubt, it is certainty. Faith is, as William Sloan
Coffin wrote, “Trusting without reservation.” Certainty is more about wanting
to be right than it is about being faithful. And faithful is not just about
what we believe or don’t believe. Faithful is also about what we do, about how
we try to live.
Mother Teresa saw some of the worst
consequences of sin imaginable. And I’m not referring to the sin of the people
she served and cared for. I am referring to the sin that values some lives more
than others. The sin that states that some lives are expendable. The sin that
places the material over the person. And because of what she saw, what she
lived, she struggled with doubt. But heres’ the thing, she never stopped being
faithful. She never walked away because of her doubt. She never turned her back
on God because of her doubt. Doubt and faith and not opposites.
And as for Thomas, when Jesus does
to come him and gives him what he asked for, he responds with the most
extraordinary confession of faith in scripture, “My Lord and my God!” Joy J.
Moore, a professor at Luther Seminary and a contributor to WorkingPreacher
wrote that “when the other disciples saw Jesus, they rejoiced. When Thomas saw
Jesus, he praised. There’s a difference.”
We are living through a time of
unprecedented uncertainty, and if you are struggling with doubt you are not
alone. But when Jesus came to the disciples and then again to Thomas, he didn’t
say, “Here I am. Believe in me!” He said, “Peace be with you.”
Peace be with you. It was not just a
greeting or even a blessing. It was a gift. It was nourishment. It was healing.
It was, along with the Holy Spirit, what they would need the most to do what
they were called to do. It gave them the courage and the sustenance to go forward.
It was forgiveness so they could also forgive. It was grace. It was love. It
was peace.
Peace be with you. Jesus comes into
the places that we lock off from others. Jesus comes into the places where we
hide our fear, our disappointments, our pain. Jesus comes into our broken
places and says, “Peace be with you.”
We can have peace without certainty.
We can have the peace of Christ even if we doubt. We can have Christ’s peace
even when everything around us is chaos. Jesus assuages our doubts not with a
demand for belief and allegiance, but with peace. Peace be with you. Peace be
with you. My Lord and my God.
Let all of God’s children joyfully
exclaim, “Alleluia!”
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment