John 20:24-31 | Training for the "Not Yet"

Rhythms of Residency   •  Sermon  •  Submitted   •  Presented   •  41:24
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Jesus meets us in the ‘not yet,’ offering His Word to turn our cynicism into worshipful allegiance!

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If there is one thing our culture has completely discipled us in, it’s the expectation of the "instant." We live in an Amazon Prime, binge-watching, high-speed, on-demand reality. If a YouTube video buffers for more than four seconds, we are ready to throw our phones into a river. We expect instant delivery, instant communication, and instant answers.
That’s the water we swim in. And it’s fine when we’re dealing with Wi-Fi or fast food. But it creates a massive spiritual crisis when we bring that exact same expectation to the Creator of the universe.
Because here is the reality of following Jesus: He rarely works on our timeline.
Most of the Christian life is not lived on the mountaintops of immediate miracles. It is lived in the waiting room. It’s lived in the agonizing gap between the promise God made and the fulfillment of that promise. It's the space we call the "Not Yet."
And as much as we like to think we’re more mature that 3 year olds, we hate that place. The "Not Yet" is an exhausting place to live. When we have to wait on an Amazon package, we get annoyed. But when we have to wait on God—when we are praying for healing, for a breakthrough in our marriage, for our kids to come home, for that depression to lift—and the days turn into weeks, and the weeks turn into years... we don't just get annoyed. We get cynical.
We look around, and it seems like everyone else is experiencing the blessings of God. Everyone else is celebrating. Everyone else got the miracle. And we are stuck in the dark, wondering if God even knows our address.
If that is where you are sitting today, I want you to know that you are not a bad Christian for feeling that way. You are actually in really good company. Because one of Jesus’ closest friends, a man named Thomas, found himself in that exact same agonizing gap.
It is the week after Easter. Jesus has risen from the dead. He has already appeared to the women at the tomb. He has already appeared to the other disciples. The whole church is alive with Easter joy. But Thomas missed it. For eight long days, Thomas has been sitting in a locked room, completely isolated from that joy, stuck in the trauma of Good Friday, and spiraling into a deep, dark cynicism.
But I want you to see what Jesus does. Because what He does for Thomas, He wants to do for you today.
Last week, on Easter, we saw that the angels at the empty tomb didn't point the women to the discarded grave clothes to prove the resurrection. They didn't even point to their own flashy, lightning-bolt outfits—though I'm sure their apparel was quite striking. :) They didn't point to the flash; they pointed to the foundation. They pointed them back to God's Word. "Remember what He told you," they said. And this week, we see the culmination of that exact same thread: Jesus commends and blesses those who give their allegiance to Him based on His Word alone.
Here is our big idea for this morning, and what I hope to unpack with you from our text: Last week we said that wonder is the threshold of faith. Peter ran to the empty tomb and let himself wonder. But Thomas is on a very different trajectory today. Thomas isn't filled with wonder; he is filled with an angry, sad cynicism. But the beautiful truth of the Gospel is that Jesus doesn't just pursue the wonderer; He pursues the cynic, too.
Jesus meets us in the 'not yet,' offering His Word to turn our cynicism into worshipful allegiance.
If you have your Bibles, open them up to John chapter 20.
Look at vv. 24-25.
John sets the scene for us, we’ll be in the ESV this morning:
“Now Thomas, one of the twelve, called the Twin, 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 in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe.’”
You have to feel the weight of what is happening here. Thomas is living in the agony of the gap. For a full week, he is stuck in the same room with ten guys who are amped with Easter joy, while he is still bleeding from the trauma of Good Friday.
And in his pain, Thomas does what every single one of us does when we get stuck in the "Not Yet." He builds a wall, and he issues an ultimatum. “Unless He meets my terms… I’m out.” We love to read this passage and label him "Doubting Thomas," as if his primary problem was a lack of intellectual evidence. But I don't think Thomas is having an intellectual crisis here; I think he is having an emotional one.
In our late-modern culture, we have elevated cynicism to a virtue. We think being cynical makes us sound smart, educated, and enlightened. But pastorally speaking, nine times out of ten, cynicism isn’t a sign of intellectual superiority. Cynicism is usually a defense mechanism for a broken heart.
Thomas isn't demanding proof because he’s an arrogant philosopher. He’s demanding proof because he watched the man he loved get tortured to death, and he is absolutely terrified of hoping again only to get crushed. His cynicism is armor.
And this is the trap of the "Not Yet." When life hurts, when the answer to our prayer is delayed, we mistake God’s delay for His denial. And to protect ourselves, we stop being worshipers and we become evaluators.
We cross our arms in evaluation and stand in judgment over God, and we say, "Okay, God, if you are really good, you need to prove it to me. You need to fix my husband, my wife, my marriage by Friday. You need to heal this sickness. You need to give me this job. Unless I see it on my terms, I will never believe." We use our ultimatums to protect ourselves from the pain of waiting.
And I want you to hear this loud and clear: it’s almost impossible to disciple an evaluator or a cynic. Jesus cannot train someone who is standing in judgment over Him. He is the Master; we are the residents. Church, a critical spirit is deadly to spiritual growth.
An evaluator operates with an ear not to learn, but to catch a slip-up. The Apostle Paul actually warned Timothy about this exact thing—he called it "word wrangling." It’s a spirit that parses every word just to find the error. These folks sit in judgment over everyone and everything because they have become an authority unto themselves—they operate over authority, never under it. And I don't want to get sidetracked here, but cynics don't always look like proud atheists out in the world. Sometimes they look like critical grumblers sitting right here in the church. They act like they are the smartest, most theologically astute people in the room. They are content to word-wrangle, critique, evaluate, and judge, perhaps in the name of constructive criticism or to encourage doctrinal fidelity, but they are far from being encouragers. And they make terrible disciples because they are convinced they have nothing left to learn; they are just here to teach everyone else the "right" way, which is of course, their way or the highway!
Thomas isn’t completely there yet, but we see the deadly progression: doubt left to fester breeds cynicism. Cynicism left unchecked breeds a critical spirit. And a critical spirit breeds division and word-wrangling in the church! We see the very start of it with Thomas’ demand and angry ultimatum: “Unless I see the hands and place my finger in the nail holes, I will NEVER believe.” This is the seed of a cynical, critical spirit, demanding his own way. The time frame. The specifics. The methods. Everything is neatly laid out in orderly, systematic detail! Here is exactly what I require!
Which Church, the critical spirited person, I have a really hard time with these folks and if it were up to me, I’d say, you want to demand your way, there’s the door! And this is why we should all be thankful, I’m not Jesus! Because Jesus doesn’t keep these people to the curb and I would like to! Nope, the beautiful truth of the Gospel is that when we retreat into our locked rooms of cynical and critical demands, Jesus does not leave us there. He doesn't roll His eyes at our brokenness, gosh this guy again… I ain’t got time for this! Nope, Jesus meets us in the 'not yet,' offering His Word to turn our cynicism into worshipful allegiance.
Look back at the text and lets see what happens next in verse 26-27:
“Eight days later, his disciples were inside again, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were locked, 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; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.’”
Do not miss the absolute brilliance of what Jesus is doing right here. And do not miss the timeline. The text says "Eight days later." Now, in the first-century Jewish calendar, they used inclusive counting—Sunday to Sunday. That means it is exactly the first day of the week again. Right here, Jesus is establishing a brand new rhythm for His people: the rhythm of Sunday worship. And on that Sunday, Jesus walks through a locked door, looks directly at Thomas, and offers him the exact, specific things Thomas demanded a week ago.
Thomas said, “Unless I see his hands and place my hand in his side.” Jesus walks in and says, “Here are my hands. Here is my side.”
Why does that matter? Because it proves that Jesus was in the room the whole time. Even when Thomas couldn’t see Him, even when Thomas couldn’t sense Him, even when Thomas felt completely abandoned in the agonizing gap of the "Not Yet," Jesus was standing right there. And Jesus heard every single word Thomas said.
Folks, this should completely shatter any religious box we want to try and put God in.
Right!? I mean, notice that at no point in our text did Thomas close his eyes, fold his hands, bow his head, or take off his hat to pray. We tend to think that if we don't do all that... God ain't listening! We think prayer only counts if it's polished and pious. We think our raw, unfiltered, cynical venting to our friends disqualifies us from God's presence.
But Thomas wasn’t praying in verse 25. He was angry. He was venting. He was issuing a cynical ultimatum to his buddies. And Jesus heard it as a prayer. Let that sink in. Jesus can take our rawest, ugliest, most desperate demands and treats them as invitations. He is omnipresent. He sees. He hears. And He doesn't wait for you to get your theology cleaned up before He moves toward you. Just like Revelation 3 says, He stands at the locked door of your cynical heart and knocks.
Church, when you are living in the "Not Yet," when you are praying for the promises of God—for healing, for restoration, for your family—the answer in Christ is always "Yes and Amen." That’s what 2 Cor. 1:20 says “20 For no matter how many promises God has made, they are “Yes” in Christ.” Now, there is a nuance to that. Sometimes the answer is "Yes, right now," and sometimes the answer is "Yes, but not yet." And that "not yet" is the hardest answer a Christian can receive.
But church, because of the cross and the empty tomb, the answer to God's promises is never "No."
Jesus brings His scars directly into Thomas's locked room to prove that His love is guaranteed, even when the wait feels like an eternity. He proves that even when you are faithless, He remains faithful. He doesn't roll His eyes at your doubt; He steps right into the middle of it.
Because Jesus meets us in the 'not yet,' offering His Word to turn our cynicism into worshipful allegiance.
Which is exactly what He does for Thomas. Look again at the text:
“Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’”
Notice what is missing from the text. Thomas never actually touches the scars. A week ago, he swore up and down that he needed empirical proof—he needed to physically put his hands inside the wounds—or he would never believe. But the moment the Master is standing in front of him, the demands evaporate.
He doesn't need to poke the wounds, because the sheer wonder of the Chaos-Crusher standing in the room completely shatters his cynicism. He drops his conditions, he drops to his knees, and he gives the highest, most definitive declaration of who Jesus is in the entire Gospel of John: "My Lord and my God." He shifts completely from an evaluator with his arms crossed, to a worshiper with his hands raised.
And church, this is what true, biblical belief actually looks like.
I think we have completely watered down the word "believe" in the modern church. We think "believing" in Jesus just means giving a little intellectual head-nod to a set of historical facts. We think it means agreeing that the tomb is empty, praying a prayer, and then going on living our lives exactly the way we want to.
But listen to me: Jesus is not looking for fans. He isn’t looking for a crowd of people who just want the perks of Easter without the yoke of the Residency.
Jesus is looking for exactly what He asked for on day one, when He walked up to these guys on the beach and said, "Drop your nets and follow me." He wants your absolute, total allegiance.
He wants to help you do what you do, but do it differently for Him. You were fishermen… not I’ll make you fishers of men!
Jesus wants to bring order to our chaos. But He cannot do that if we are constantly demanding that He operate on our terms and our timeline. At some point, we have to look at the cross, look at the empty tomb, and say, "My Lord and my God. You have my life. I trust you, even in the waiting."
Because Jesus meets us in the 'not yet,' offering His Word to turn our cynicism into worshipful allegiance.
Now, if the story stopped right there at verse 28, it would be a beautiful historical anecdote. But it would leave you and me with a massive problem.
Because we don't get to touch the scars.
If you are sitting in the agonizing gap of the "Not Yet" today, you don't get to physically see Jesus walk through your drywall and offer you His hands. So how are we supposed to survive the wait? How are we supposed to give our total allegiance to a King we cannot physically see or touch?
Look at what Jesus says in verse 29.
“Jesus said to him, ‘Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.’”
Thomas is the last of the "seers." Everyone who comes after him—the original Christians living in the Roman Empire facing intense persecution, and you sitting in this room right now—we are the "non-seers." And Jesus is validating our faith. He is saying that physical sight is not a prerequisite for radical allegiance or worship.
And then, right here at the climax of the entire book, the Apostle John does something incredible. He stops the narrative. He breaks the fourth wall. Like Michael Scott in the Office, he looks directly at the camera, points right at you, and says in verse 30:
“Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that YOU may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.”
For 20 chapters, John has carefully curated specific miracles to build a theological court case. But right here, he breaks the fourth wall to show us that Jesus's method was never about the miracles in and of themselves—it was always about the message! The WORD! God absolutely still does miracles today, but our allegiance isn't anchored to demanding physical proof; it is anchored to the written testimony. John is saying: You don't get to touch the scars like Thomas did. But you don't need to. Jesus bridges the gap between the empty tomb and your locked room by giving you the written testimony of His Word.
But don’t misunderstand what we mean by this!
The Bible is not a dead history book. And we do not worship a book; we worship a living King! We are a Word and Spirit church.
In the original Greek, there are two different words for "word." There is Logos, the objective, eternal, written Word. It’s our anchor. But there is also Rhema, which means a specific utterance spoken for a specific situation.
Just a few chapters earlier in the Upper Room, Jesus promised His disciples exactly how this would work. He said the Holy Spirit would come and "bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you." The Spirit's job isn't to give us brand-new, extra-biblical revelations; His job is to take the Logos—what Jesus already said—and actively whisper it as a Rhema word directly into our present circumstances! That is why Paul calls it the "Sword of the Spirit"—the Spirit draws the specific word exactly when you are doubting or hurting. Faith is birthed when the objective truth of Christ is actively spoken and heard in your heart!
We need the written Logos to anchor us, so we can discern the Rhema Whisper. Because when you are desperate and hurting in the "Not Yet," you are going to hear a lot of whispers. And if you aren't anchored in the Word, you won't know if what you're hearing is the Spirit of God, a wicked spirit disguised as an angel of light, or just the burrito you ate last night!
This is the rhythm of the Residency! We need the Word of God, and the Spirit of God, and the People of God, to walk in and follow the Wisdom of God. (And Proverbs, well Provers tells us that Wisdom is a Person and His name is Jesus! Isn’t the Bible awesome! All the connections! Anyone who tells you it’s not a divinely inspired book has never read the thing or studied!
And it is through this Word and the Whisper of God burning in our hearts agree with what’s been said today, that the Chaos-Crusher is standing in our room right now. He is inviting you to drop your ultimatums, step into the wonder of who He is, and give Him your life.
Friends, Jesus meets us in the 'not yet,' offering His Word to turn our cynicism into worshipful allegiance.
Which brings us to the most urgent, practical challenge for your life this week.
We’ve talked about the Word of God, and we’ve talked about the Spirit of God. But I want to land on the third crucial element to training in the not yet. We need the People of God.
I want you to think back to the very beginning of the story. Why did Thomas have to sit in the agony of the "Not Yet" for an extra eight days? Why was he the last one to see the risen Christ?
Look closely at verse 24. “Now Thomas… was not with them when Jesus came.”
Thomas’s greatest danger wasn't his doubt; his greatest danger was his isolation. When Jesus first showed up to bring peace to the chaos, Thomas had separated himself from the community. And church, hear me on this: You cannot survive the "Not Yet" alone. When you are hurting, the enemy's number one tactic is to isolate you. He wants you to sit in a locked room by yourself, nursing your cynicism, until your heart grows completely hard. He wants you to evaluate God in a vacuum.
Discipleship is not a solo sport. You cannot train for a life with God by yourself.
So here is the call to action for you today. If you are sitting in the agony of the gap right now, do not keep your cynical venting isolated. You need to bring it into the light.
This week, I want you to take your raw, honest heart to your Connect Group. If you aren't in a group, I want you to go to your spouse, siblings, cousins, or "fridge friends" —those people in your life who have permission to walk into your house and it’s mess without knocking and open your refrigerator. Find the people who will let you be honest without judging you, but who love you too much to let you stay cynical.
Bring your doubts to them. Tell them you are struggling to hear the Whisper of the Spirit. Tell them you are struggling to believe the Word. Let the People of God speak the Truth of God over you when you are too exhausted to believe it for yourself. Let them pray with you and for you and bear your burdens!
You don't have to have it all together. You just have to be willing to unlock the door.
Because we serve a Master who loves us too much to leave us in the dark.
Jesus meets us in the 'not yet,' offering His Word to turn our cynicism into worship.
Let's pray.
“Father, we confess that the waiting is hard. We confess that we often build walls of cynicism to protect ourselves from the pain of the 'not yet.' But Lord, we thank you that Jesus does not abandon the doubter or the one who makes demands! Thank you for the scars that prove your promises are 'Yes and Amen.' Anchor us in your written Word, illuminate our hearts with your Whisper, and give us the courage to bring our doubts into the light with our people this week. Turn our demands into allegiance. We give you our lives. In the name of the ultimate Jesus Christ we pray, Amen."
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