So You May Know and Live
Notes
Transcript
How many of you have heard a sermon about doubting Thomas before?
Ok, now how many of you have heard a sermon about why it’s not fair to call him doubting Thomas?
My experience across a dozen or more churches leans toward the latter. But regardless, I’m going to go out on a limb today. Not only am I going to (mostly) avoid the strawman argument about what epithet the disciple Thomas should be known by, but I’m going to suggest that, at least based on what’s included and excluded from today’s Gospel lesson, the episode with Thomas and the risen Jesus is not even the main point.
But first, I want you to imagine an alternate timeline where the 12 disciples are all dads. The women are still first to discover Jesus risen and report it to the disciples. This time, though, Peter, very seriously responds to the women’s story, asking “Are you sure you went to the right place?” The women, who watched everything on Good Friday even after the others had gone home, are sure and say so. Peter pauses a moment thoughtfully then says “Ok, let’s go take a look. I hope you’re right. Otherwise, we’d be making a… [pause and turn toward camera 2] grave mistake.”
Just like a joke, it’s common in Hebrew literature to set up an expectation and then turn it on its head in the punchline. Jesus even does this when he says “You have heard it said… but…”
So let’s consider the story of Thomas. Most of the disciples have already seen the risen Lord, but Thomas was not there that night. Thomas, who presumably would love to believe that Jesus is alive, is (reasonably, I’d say) hesitant to risk believing such a seemingly impossible thing without firsthand evidence.
The next week, Jesus appears in their midst again (this time with Thomas there), and the first thing he does after bidding them peace is tell Thomas: “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” (Jn 20:27). Jesus didn’t wait to be asked or to see how Thomas would react. Jesus proactively reached out to meet his need.
And what happens next? Thomas makes the first post-resurrection confession of Jesus’ divinity, exclaiming “My Lord and my God!”
Usually, Jesus’ next response is read only in relation to Thomas’ confession:
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.”
But what if it’s meant to connect this section to the next section?
In many Bibles, there’s a section marker before verse 30, marking it as a change of topic, but in this case, I think the lectionary gets it right by putting these two sections together.
What do verses 30 and 31 say?
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.
I feel like normally, these are basically read as a caveat or aside, just saying “Hey, just in case you missed it, this isn’t everything amazing Jesus did.”
But what if they’re not? What if we take John at his word and consider in terms of the whole gospel? It starts:
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
John says later in Chapter 1 “we” (the firsthand witnesses) have seen Jesus’ glory, and received grace upon grace. In Chapter 20, after the resurrection, he tells us that he has written this gospel so that you may come to believe and that through believing you may have life in Jesus’ name.
And if the “we” of chapter 1 was the first generation of witnesses, who is the “you” in Chapter 20? It is those who read this gospel, most of whom, including us, have not seen Jesus in the flesh firsthand, or had the gift of being able to empirically verify that yes, the wounds of Jesus’ crucifixion are still part of his risen body, which is also real and not some apparition or ghost.
In that context, Thomas’ confession “My Lord and my God!” points to the “we,” the firsthand witnesses, and Jesus’ response isn’t meant to throw shade at him or anyone else of that time, especially given how ready Jesus was, without even being asked, to settle his fears and skepticism.
No, when Jesus said “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe,” he doesn’t use that comparative “you have heard it said… but” language, yet it still has that element of surprise or reversal. He points to another group who can’t have the same opportunities to see, asserting that they (that is we) (too) are and will be blessed.
And what’s next? I would argue it’s John explicit exposition of what this means. These aren’t all the things, but I bothered to write and share these, in order that you (who are unable to see in the same way) may believe. John’s gospel is meant for a faith community lacking that firsthand experience with Jesus in the flesh.
And the why points us back to chapter 1 again, John tells us he writes that we may believe and so that “by believing you may have life,” the life that comes from receiving “grace upon grace” from his fulness.
In our rush to focus only on the original purpose and text of the Bible, it’s easy to miss the truth that how we tell God’s story is and should be new and different for every generation.
As much as all the mystical language about Word and light of John 1 seems designed to feel timeless and evoke something consistent across different years and generations and contexts and lived experiences, it’s not enough.
We need more in order to grow faith, to understand not just academically but down to the σπλάγχνα (splankna). σπλάγχνα is possibly the most confusing Greek word in the New Testament. It is translated in the Bible varyingly as heart, compassion, bowels, entrails, heartache, bodies, inmost, tender, and refuse. Literally, it refers to human viscera, all the organs that keep our meat-bodies going but we don’t like to talk or think much about. But figuratively, it is used when “heart” or “soul” or “spirit” just don’t cut it to represent how deeply embodied something is in our very selves.
What has the power to create life-giving, visceral, embodied faith that suffuses our whole beings? Only the grace of God’s love as seen through Jesus Christ, imparted to us and made real through Holy Spirit. But that’s fluffy John 1 stuff. If it could do the job of making faith real to everyone all on its own, John wouldn’t be the longest gospel.
What really has that power?
As a sociologist of religion, I can tell you, but you might not like the answer.
The data tell us that most people who start believing or start coming to church don’t do so because of a TV evangelist or contemporary Christian music or seeing a debate with an atheist college professor. It mostly comes through people we know in other ways inviting us to learn and experience more of how faith has changed our lives.
But all that implies a couple of other things:
Every one of us has a unique context and social network and so every one of us is positioned and thus called to share the gospel in a way that embodies Jesus to those around us, yes through acts of love and service, but also through telling a story.
The story we must tell is not just the Bible or even the Church’s story. Just as Mary delivered Christ’s words at the tomb on Easter morning intermixed with her experiences there, if people are to come to believe - whether our children and grandchildren, our neighbors, or whoever - they must see and hear evidence of Christ at work in our lives, meeting us where we are.
To tell that story, we need to have reflected on where Christ has been at work in our lives and be vulnerable enough to share, including our weaknesses that show us our need for his love and forgiveness.
For Thomas, that story was embodied in Jesus reaching out to him to calm his fears and anxieties about the truth, without prompting or hesitation - literally inviting Thomas to place his hands inside Jesus’ body.
For most of us, it won’t be that dramatic or literal. But, even if we still struggle, that story has to reach down to our σπλάγχνα and give people reason to believe there is something more.
I saw a meme the other day comparing church and youth sports. The church youth leader says we’d love to have you join us - there’s a commitment to worship once a week, meet with other youth to play and learn once a week, and maybe a monthly spiritual direction meeting over coffee with the youth leader. The sports coach says we’d love to have you join us - there’s 2-4 hours of practice a day, dozens of games including tournaments that will take up a large part of your evenings and weekends, plus we’ll need you to spend thousands of dollars a year on fees, equipment, and practice tools and coaching if you really want to succeed.
Some of you probably guessed the punchline. The parents say “that seems like a lot” to the church but jump onboard with sports.
Why?
Because the kids and their friends or siblings show abundant evidence that participating in those sports can change their lives - by improving their fitness, yes, but also by giving them experience with teamwork and self-confidence and more (and maybe, for a select few, through professional sports - something that is still seen as one of the few paths out of poverty for many families with very limited education and resources).
But what does that say about us as the Church then?
Maybe we should take a lesson from StoryCorp. This program trains people all over the country to interview those close to them about pivotal moments and experiences in their lives and their relationship with the interviewer. Thousands of interviews have been conducted and shared on NPR and archived in the Library of Congress. And yet, every time I hear a new one, I am drawn in by the depth of feeling and realness that these people bring in sharing their stories and how the seemingly small acts of others have impacted their lives.
We as the Church, though we may have received the gift of abundant life through Christ Jesus, are failing to carry on the legacy of John’s gospel. If we truly experience and value the Gospel, the good news of abundant life through faith, we must be sent ones (apostles) and witnesses (martyrs) such that our generation and those that follow us, cannot help but come to the conclusion that faith is not only worth the hassle but the most valuable and life-changing gift they can receive. And if that is true, whether for us or for them, the only thing that can follow (knowing that the gift is free to all) is to share our story and share how God’s story has become ours through the saving work of Jesus Christ.
If you don’t feel prepared to share that story, that’s ok. Let’s talk. We can learn and practice together. And if you aren’t sure your story is worth sharing, let’s talk about that too. It’s yours. That alone is enough it worth sharing. But we’re not always taught to trust and value our own experience. Even if you’re not sure what you believe, and even if it doesn’t tie up neatly.
Scared of the word evangelizing because you’ve seen too many televangelists? Let’s reclaim it and practice “Good News-ing” together. I have learning to do too. But we have some great models in our midst, and most of all, we have God’s power, given to us through Jesus saving work and made alive in us through the power of the Holy Spirit.
Because there’s only one reason we can even have a debate over whether Thomas should be called “doubting Thomas” or “Thomas the evangelist of the East” or just (as he was known before the resurrection) “Thomas the twin.” And that’s because John decided to tell his story “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.”
So what do you say? I’m not sure I’m ready to take up the challenge. But I do know that that God is ready. And that’s enough for me.