Eastertide - Beyond Belief

John 20:19–31 NRSV

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “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.” A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

Friends, we continue to celebrate Christ’s resurrection today and always, as God’s people. It is a story of love triumphing over death. It is a story of toppling the powers of the world and lifting up the poor, hurting, and widowed as those who are truly close to God. It is a story that resonates out from the epicenter of 2000 years ago in Palestine, where God becomes one with humanity, experiences life and death in all its profound beauty and struggle. The story of Easter is the story for you and me as we seek to navigate a world where pain and sorrow continue to reign, and yet all the while we seek to be lights in the darkness, shining as Christ, as beacons of hope for life beyond death.

This is a good story. Do you believe it?

Blessed are those who have not seen, and yet have come to believe.

How many of us wrestle with this teaching, that those who come to faith without seeing are blessed? Do we wish we could be that way? To have the childlike faith and believe in what we cannot see?

I don’t know about you, but I personally feel much more like Thomas. Or the man who sought healing from Jesus for his child, who pleads with Jesus, stating, “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.”

I feel like Thomas a lot of the time. Maybe you do too. There is sort of this prevailing notion that Thomas is lesser because of his questioning and lack of belief without sight. Like, this passage shows his particular weakness — doubt, or lack of faith. Doubting Thomas.

But if you’re like me, you are often full of doubt, full of wondering.

I believe this passage, this small piece from the aftermath of the resurrection, has much to teach us about what it means to live following Jesus in the messiness of the here and now. Thomas’ doubt can teach us. And it isn’t that we are taught how to “not be like Thomas” or that we should feel less because we struggle at times to see what we wish we could see in Jesus. Rather, Thomas says what so many of us are thinking, longing for, crying out for, as we journey through this life. Lord, show us, so that we might gaze upon your wounds and know your glory firsthand.

Lord, have mercy upon us.

I resonate with Thomas, not just because he is my namesake disciple, but because he makes an honest statement of wondering and longing that so deeply speaks to my own wonderings and longings as I think of faith in Jesus.

As I’ve sat with this text this week, I’ve found myself wondering at what I believe in, but have not seen. Easy examples might be air or wind. Those are often cited as ways we interact with something unseen, yet something which so profoundly impacts our daily living.

I also thought of more ridiculous beliefs I hold — that the Mariners will someday win a World Series championship. Or that if I ignore the engine light on my car long enough, that it will just go away. Or that if I just read one more book, watch one more documentary, have one more enlightened conversation, that somehow all the wisdom of the world will be made clear and plain to me.

Ridiculous, perhaps, but I believe…though I have not seen the proof nor witnessed the outcome, properly.

I think I’ve told some of you, but I also have this deep belief and longing to see the Aurora Borealis sometime in my life. Now, that doesn’t sound like a belief, right? Well, think of it this way: I believe the Northern Lights exist. I’ve seen pictures, heard stories, seen videos. I’ve read about how scientists believe this phenomenon comes to be, where we can witness it, and how magnificent and haunting and beautiful they can be. I believe in all of these things.

But I have never seen them. The situation has never been right, I’ve never been in the right northernmost region of the world at the right time. Granted, I haven’t really tried in earnest, but regardless, I believe in something I have not seen and yet…I still hunger to see it.

As I’ve sat with this text and wondered at Thomas’ desire to see the wounds and marks on Jesus’ body…I have a profound sense of resonance with his desire. He wants to see it first hand.

And while we look askance at Thomas and we question his fidelity to Jesus, we have to also reckon with the truth that Thomas authentically names our very personal struggles to believe in what we have not seen — namely, to believe in the light of the world, Jesus, and his life, death, and resurrection. Blessed are those who have not seen, and yet still believe.

But we want to see.

Yes, blessed are those who have not seen and yet still believe — but also, how about blessed are those who have not seen, and hunger to do so. Blessed are those who are not comfortable settling with sights unseen. Blessed are those with a holy discomfort in platitudes and hearsay. Blessed are those who demand sight — not because we deserve it or are due it, but because we want more.

Pictures and videos of the Northern Lights are great. But I want to move beyond belief, to actually seeing them. Someday, maybe, I will. But I will not be settled with just the facsimile, the reproduction of a digital copy. I want to see them.

Thomas…doubting Thomas. But can we hear him — I want to see! Don’t just tell me the story, I want to see it, touch it, feel it. I want it to be enfleshed, close, here. I want to know that this story has material, real, profoundly tangible impacts upon our world.

I wonder if Jesus’ welcoming of Thomas to touch his scars and see his wounds, I wonder if that can teach us something about this deep desire to see.

I know we are a community of deep thinkers, some of us skeptics, some of us faithfully pressing on amidst great sorrow or immense blessing, not always seeing, but trusting firmly in God’s hand upon our lives. I also know there are so many of us who wrestle with the lack of tangible, clear, scientific (even), lived experiences of Christ’s presence and work.

We want to see miracles. We want to see the world changed. We want to witness the resurrection here and now.

Think, for a moment, of the many, many followers of Jesus who have come before you who also have asked to see, like Thomas, so that their belief may be made real. These faithful are striving for more, longing to have that light be revealed to them in practical, real ways. Let’s acknowledge that, not as a shortcoming, but as a marker of deeply lived, trusted, abiding faith.

In a few moments, we’ll come to this table to partake in the Lord’s Supper, the Eucharist, communion.

If you know the most basic bits of church history, you know that this table has been the site of great debates and division over believing and seeing.

Quick Church History and Theology lesson: from the outset of the church, there have been debates on the nature of the bread and the cup at the table of our Lord and whether they truly are Christ’s body and blood. The oversimplified version of this history is that by the mid-15th century, there were wars cropping up in conflict over whether the body and blood of Christ were actually present in the bread and cup, a perspective known as transubstantiation — where these elements actually become the real body and blood of Jesus. And out of this conflict, the Reformation took place and the church reoriented the dialog around the elements of communion to, at least in our tradition, acknowledge them as a mystery and a signifier of Christ’s body and blood. Our tradition does not directly affirm that the elements “become” Christ’s body and blood, but rather that they serve as a sign and symbol of Christ’s body, a marker and mystery. Is it the body or is it merely bread? Is it the cup or is it the blood? To this, we choose to answer, “yes.”

And this yes, for me, speaks to a good, deep, true longing in each of us that at once acknowledges that practical realities of what we know to be true about the world and matter and bread and juice — AND, at the same time, addresses the hunger we feel as we long for this all to be part of the more, the deeper truth, the spiritual reality which meets us in the here and now as the body and blood of Jesus Christ.

Thomas demands to see the marks and scars. Friends, I am like Thomas. Especially as my faith has grown and deepened over the years. I am like Thomas. I want to see the marks. I want to believe without the scars, but I also want to move beyond belief into the lived reality of a world where resurrection can really happen.

You might think me crazy, but here’s what I think that life beyond belief can actually look like.

I believe that Christ is doing the work, through us, to restore creation. And beyond belief, I want to see results. I want to see clean streams, clean air, and the return of so many species lost to our environmental collapse.

I believe Christ heals. And I want to see that healing. I want to see sight restored to the blind. I want to witness cancer tumors shrinking. I want to see families truly reconciled. I believe…and I love to see that belief come to be.

I believe God is working to bring peace on earth. I believe there is a coming shalom, a reign of God, where every tear will be wiped away and the hungry will be filled. I believe this — and I want to see the practical reality of this. I want war to cease in Gaza. I want oppression and political games to cease. I want peace and reconciliation between Ukraine and Russia. I want to believe and I also want to see it.

I want our prayers to be made sight, made real. I believe, and yet I want to actually see that belief turn into something, something of material change in the here and now.

Friends, this is the mystery of faith that drives us beyond the cross into the lived reality of hope in the world. We believe…and now we must go look for how this belief becomes real.

I’ll close with this. I imagine many of you resonate with this desire to see belief made real. Many of you long to see the scars and touch Jesus’ real, enfleshed hands. And we are not wrong for this, we are not less than. Perhaps there is a depth of faith that we’re being invited to, where we do not settle for merely believing, but struggle to see belief become real.

How does this happen, then? Is there some kind of miraculous way we can get the scales to fall from our eyes and we can all of a sudden see the miraculous reality of God’s way?

Our passage gives us an answer. Jesus greets his friends, repeatedly, with the words, “Peace be with you.” And he breathes upon them, sharing with them the Holy Spirit.

It is these disciples, who we also call apostles, who saw that risen Lord, who go out to start sharing this good story. They go out filled with the Spirit and expect to see belief become lived reality.

And how does this happen? They go out in confidence to bring that healing they long for, be the peacemakers they long for, be the voices for justice that they long for. We’ve oversimplified this into statements that become rote: “Be the change you want to see in the world.” But goodness, isn’t that what it looks like to move beyond belief.

Blessed are those who believe and have not seen. But also, blessed are those who hunger so deeply for what they believe to be made real, really real here and now. Blessed are the discomforted, those who long for justice to truly roll down like mighty waters, for peace to reign. And blessed are those who will no longer settle for belief, but who push beyond belief to demand a front row seat witnessing how Christ truly does come to be one with us, using our hands and feet in the world, to spread this work of the Spirit, which can heal the world.

Amen.