Jesus and Thomas

 

So it is the evening of what we now call Easter Sunday.
Jerusalem is quiet, shocked still by the happenings at the end of the previous week.
Not so much by the executions –
they seem to be two a penny these days –
but by the fact that that rabbi, the one they called Jesus, the one who had come into the city on a donkey with a huge crowd shouting and cheering him on –
they had killed him!

And his disciples –
most of them, anyway, had locked themselves in the upper room of a house, as they were afraid, with good reason, that the authorities who had taken Jesus to his death would be after them, too.

There were odd rumours going round.
A couple of the women said they had gone to the place where he was buried, and found he wasn’t there.
An angel had apparently told them that he had been raised from death.
Mary Magdalene even said she’d seen him and talked to him.
Well, you can’t trust what women say, can you?
But then Cleopas and his wife come rushing in, breathless and exhausted, saying that they had seen Jesus on the road and walked with him, and he’d come in to supper with them.

And then, suddenly, Jesus himself is there, standing in the middle of the room.
He hadn’t opened the door –
they had been careful to lock it again once Cleopas had arrived.
But he was there.
Alive.
Real.
You could touch him,
see where those terrible nails had been hammered through his hands and feet,
see where the soldiers had stuck a spear into his side to make quite sure he was dead.

But he wasn’t dead.
“Peace be with you!” he said.
And they were no longer afraid.

He said he was hungry, and shared their supper with them, just like in the olden days.
But it wasn’t quite like that, he was different.
His body was just as solid as ever, but somehow, not quite the same.
And in his manner, he seemed far more sure of himself, far more certain.

“Receive the Holy Spirit” –
what did he mean by that, they wondered?
“If you forgive people’s sins, they are forgiven;
if you don’t forgive them, they aren’t.”

Again, what did he mean? The disciples, at that stage, had no real idea.
And then Jesus wasn’t there any more, although nobody saw him go.

And then Thomas arrived.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said.
“Got held up.”
And, all talking at once, they try to tell him what has happened.

But Thomas is sceptical.
Can’t really be true, he says.
You must have been dreaming, or a mass hallucination or something.
And even though they tell him over and over again, he still has trouble believing.
“I’d need to touch those wounds you say you saw, need to put my hand on his side where the spear was.
Then I might believe, but really, no –
people don’t come back from the dead!”

Poor Thomas.
It seems less than ten days ago that he was the one who said to Jesus, “Well, if you insist on going to Jerusalem, let’s all go with you and die with you!”
and now he seems to have missed out on all the excitement.
People don’t come back from being dead,
no matter how much you would like them to.

But then, on the other hand, there had been those miracles, people healed –
the time Jesus’s friend Lazarus had died,
and Jesus had called him to come out of the tomb, and he had come.
Or when that little girl had died, only Jesus had said she was only sleeping.
Or that time when….
Thomas remembers all the times Jesus had healed the sick or done other miracles.
But then, he couldn’t be alive, could he?
And so on, round and round, on the treadmill of his thoughts.

This goes on for a whole week.
It must have seemed an eternity to poor Thomas,
with the others, although still cautious and hiding from the authorities –
indeed, some of the fishermen were talking of going back to Galilee and getting the boats out;
safer that way, and Jesus had apparently told the women to tell them to go back to Galilee –
the others, still cautious, yet fizzing and bubbling that the Teacher was alive!

A whole week.

But at the end of the week, they are still in the locked room.
They have been gathering there every day to pray and be together,
and trying not to come to the attention of the authorities.
Thomas is beginning to seriously wonder whether they’ve gone mad, or whether he has.
Maybe he should just leave them, and go on home to Galilee.
But maybe, one last time, he’ll join them.

And he’s so glad he did, because Jesus comes again, specially to talk to him,
to show him his hands and his side, and say
“Go on, you can touch them if that’s what you need to do to believe in me!”
Thomas doesn’t seem to need to, he believes anyway and worships his risen Lord.

And then later on, tradition tells us,
he goes to India and founds the church there,
and many denominations there say they trace their origins back to his ministry!
So what do we learn from this story.
We sometimes call Thomas “Doubting Thomas”,
as though that was the only significant thing about him.
It wasn’t, of course.
He was a brave and bold disciple, and he went to the furthest reaches of the known world, and beyond, to tell people about Jesus.

What’s more he was brave enough to say that he didn’t believe it.
That took a great deal of courage, if you think about it.
All the others seemed to be totally convinced that Jesus was alive, even if they did privately wonder if they had dreamed the whole thing.
But Thomas was the only one brave enough to say he thought it was all rubbish.

But in a way, the story isn’t really about Thomas, is it?
It’s far more about Jesus, and the way Jesus deals with Thomas’s doubts and fears.

I wonder why Jesus felt it necessary to wait a whole week before coming to reassure Thomas?
It does seem odd, when you think that Thomas had been one of his most loyal followers.
Some people might think that he was punishing him for doubting, but that doesn’t seem very probable.
Not when you look at the way he treated him when he finally did turn up.

Jesus has form for delaying, if you remember.
When Lazarus was so ill, and then died?
And we know that Jesus loved Lazarus, and was badly upset when he saw his tomb.
And Mary and Martha were upset, too:
“Lord, if you had been here, our brother wouldn’t have died!”
But Jesus delayed, so he said, that God’s glory might be revealed –
and he raised Lazarus from death.

I’m not just so sure why he had to delay in this case, though.
But perhaps it was to show us that it’s okay to have to wait.
So often we want to see God at work now.
We want to be healed now.
We want answers now.
But God doesn’t seem to work like that.
Sometimes we need time to work through our feelings about something.
Sometimes we need to be certain that we really do want God to work –
do you remember how Jesus would always ask people what they wanted, did they really want him to heal them?
Were they sure?

After all, when God acts, life changes.
Thomas’ life was irretrievably changed.
Well, obviously, so were all the other disciples’ lives changed.
Jesus said “Receive the Holy Spirit”, and although nothing much seemed to change at that moment –
they were still hiding away in the upper room the following week –
later they were able to receive the Holy Spirit in a more dramatic way, and were changed forever more.

But for Thomas, the change was immediate and dramatic.
He went from unbelief to faith in the course of a single moment.
And his life was changed.

I do like the fact, too, that Thomas was still hanging with the others.
He could have walked away, gone back to Galilee, or wherever it was he came from.
But no, he stayed with the others, and they all saw Jesus come to him specially, they all saw Jesus inviting him to touch his hands and his side.
They all heard Thomas exclaim “My Lord and my God!”

Jesus came to Thomas and gave him a special touch, a special visit.
Later, he came to Peter on the shores of Lake Galilee, and spoke to him, specially, making sure Peter knew he had been forgiven for denying Jesus on that dreadful night when the authorities had arrested him.

The author of John’s Gospel reminds us, too, that Jesus did many more things than that, and that his book is a carefully curated selection
“in order that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through your faith in him you may have life.”
Jesus said to Thomas that people would be able to believe in him without necessarily having seen him.
“How happy they will be!”

And down the years, Jesus has come to us in many different ways.
Some of us may have experienced his presence unmistakeably, no matter how short a time.
Others may never have experienced him directly, but have met him through the words of a friend, the actions of a stranger, a random sermon.
We are all different, and Jesus treats us differently –
he meets us in the way best suited to our nature, the way we would be most inclined to trust.

Thomas needed a special visit from Jesus.
And Jesus paid him that special visit.

We all need a special visit from time to time;
maybe we will have to wait, as Thomas had to wait, as Lazarus had to wait.
But Jesus will come to us in the end.
He will come, he will forgive us, heal us, reassure us, and enable us to use our lives to his glory!
Amen.

Thoughtful Thomas

For obvious reasons, this was not actually preached, other than in this video.

Gospel Reading: John 20:19-31

“Thomas, thoughtful though tentative, thinks through terrific tidings - takes time to trust - then, totally transformed, travels teaching truth.”

“Thomas, thoughtful though tentative, thinks through terrific tidings - takes time to trust - then, totally transformed, travels teaching truth.”

Thus a clergy friend of mine meditated on a statue of St Thomas in the church of St Thomas and St Andrew, Doxey, Stafford. I think it is a very good summary of our Gospel reading for today which, as every year, tells Thomas’ story.

The disciples are together, hiding from the authorities, in the evening of that first Easter Day when the Risen Lord appears to them, and reassures them. And then Cleopas and his wife come racing back from Emmaus to tell them that they, too, had seen Jesus.

But Thomas wasn’t there. We don’t know why, but he missed it. And he isn’t inclined to believe the others, thinking they must be deceived in some way. Well, you can understand it, can’t you? If it seems too good to be true, it probably is. If it were true, it would indeed be terrific tidings – but people don’t just come back from the dead! Not even the dear Teacher. Once you’re dead, you’re dead, thinks Thomas. How can you come back to life again? Surely this was wishful thinking on the part of the others? Surely a group hallucination? Surely they were mistaken, weren’t they? Weren’t they?

Thomas remembers the last couple of years, since he started being one of Jesus’ disciples. How they had travelled together, quite a large band of them, with a few women who saw to it that everybody had something to eat and at the very least a blanket at night. There was the time he had gone off with Matthew, on Jesus’ instructions, to preach the Good News, and they had had such a great time. And then it had all gone sour, and Jesus had been arrested, tortured, and crucified. But they were saying he was still alive? Not possible, surely. It couldn’t really be true, could it. But then, there had been those miracles, people healed – the time his friend Lazarus had died, and Jesus had called him to come out of the tomb, and he had come. Or when that little girl had died, only Jesus had said she was only sleeping. Or that time when…. Thomas goes on remembering all the times Jesus had healed the sick or done other miracles. But then, he couldn’t be alive, could he? And so on, round and round, on the treadmill of his thoughts.

This goes on for a whole week. It must have seemed an eternity to poor Thomas, with the others, although still cautious and hiding from the authorities – indeed, some of the fishermen were talking of going back to Galilee and getting the boats out; safer that way – the others, still cautious, yet fizzing and bubbling that the Teacher was alive!

A whole week. Right now, with lockdown, a week seems an eternity, doesn’t it? How long is it since we’ve been able to worship together in person? Three weeks? Four? I’ve lost track…. But it is definitely a long time. I can’t think of any other time in history when this has happened, except perhaps for Catholics during the penal times in 18th century Ireland. Or, perhaps, for the Presbyterians who went across the Atlantic on the Mayflower and its sister ships to escape what they saw as persecution in this country.

We are all, I know, longing and longing for lockdown to be over so we can meet up again, whether with family and friends or with our church families, or both. Modern technology means that we can at least stay in touch, even have video calls with our family, but it’s not quite the same, and, of course, as soon as you can’t have something, you want it badly! Even seeing the newest great-nephew on a family Zoom get-together made all the aunts and grandmothers want to cuddle him, which right now we can’t do.

Some of us may well have had this Covid-19 – the doctor thinks I have – and I must say I did feel very ill indeed for a couple of weeks, and longed and longed to feel better, as I am sure any and all of you who have felt unwell from Covid-19 or any other illness have done.

We look at the world around us just now – people at home, unable to visit their nearest and dearest; too many being ill, and too many of those dying. And I don’t know about you, but I have wondered where God is in all of this. Where is God when you need him? We want to see God’s face in this, to hear the reassurance that all will be well and all manner of thing will be well. We want the reassurance that God is truly there and hasn’t abandoned us.

But you see, Thomas shows us that this is okay. He had to wait a whole week until the risen Jesus came to him to reassure him – and a week can be a very, very long time! But that’s okay. We don’t have to get immediate answers; we don’t have to feel better at once if we are taken ill; we do, perhaps, have to be very patient while this lockdown goes on and on.

For Thomas, it took a week. That’s why we remember him on this day each year – Low Sunday, I was taught to call it – as it’s the anniversary of the day when Jesus did come to Thomas.

The disciples were still hiding from the Jewish authorities – they could easily have been picked up, arrested, and crucified in their turn. And this time, Thomas was with them. He was still doubtful, still not convinced – but Jesus came, specially for him. “Here, touch my scars, touch my side – it’s true, I’m alive, you can trust me!” And Thomas’ immediate response was to fall down in awe and worship.

And he was totally transformed. His doubts all fell away, as if they had never been. He knew Jesus forgave him for having doubted, just as he was to forgive Peter for having denied he knew him, just as he would have forgiven Judas for having betrayed him, had Judas been in any condition to receive that forgiveness. He was forgiven and transformed.

As we, too, can be. You know this and I know this, but sometimes it feels as though that knowledge is only in our heads, we don’t absolutely know it with all of us. Except when we do – and then we wonder how on earth we ever doubted, why we don’t always believe with our whole being. We have all had those mountain-top experiences, I expect – and we have all had our times of doubt and even disbelief. It seems to be normal and human. Thomas certainly didn’t believe that Jesus had been raised; it took a special touch from our Lord himself to convince him, as it sometimes does to convince us.

And Thomas was totally transformed, from doubter to staunch believer. And, what’s more, he then travels, teaching truth.

We have nothing in the Bible to tell us what may or many not have happened to Thomas after his encounter with the risen Lord. But there are various traditions, most notably that he went to India and founded the church there. They say he was martyred in Chennai in about AD72, having lived and worked in India for over twenty years, and some sources say his remains were brought back to Edessa, in modern Syria, although others think he was buried in India.

Even today, almost two thousand years later, there are Christians in India who trace their faith history back to Thomas’ ministry. How much of this is factual, and how much tradition, we don’t know. But given that so many Christians in India, Orthodox, Catholic and Protestant, all trace their faith back to him leads me to suspect there might be something in it.

But whatever the truth, we know that Thomas travelled, teaching the truth about Jesus, teaching, as did many of the other apostles, proclaiming the Risen Christ, witnessing that he had actually seen and spoken to him, being filled with God’s Holy Spirit to proclaim the Kingdom of Heaven. He was totally transformed from the doubtful, worried disciple of that first Easter Day.

Most of us have been following Jesus for many years now. We too have been transformed, probably gradually over the years, to be more like the people we were created to be, the people God designed us to be. We, too, proclaim our risen Lord, not only – probably not even primarily – in words. And like Thomas, we sometimes take time to tentatively think through terrific truths, and we take time to trust.

And Thomas shows us that this is okay, as long as we don’t stop there. As long as we can accept that our first views may be wrong, and allow God to heal and transform us. And then, my friends, along with Thomas we too will be teaching the truth.

“Thomas, thoughtful though tentative, thinks through terrific tidings - takes time to trust - then, totally transformed, travels teaching truth.”

With thanks to the Rev Bill Mash for the meditation, which I have used with permission.

Thomas Gives Permission

Link to permanent podcast site

Today is one of those rare Sundays when we have the same Gospel reading every year;

the story of Thomas.

Doubting Thomas, we call him in the West, which is really rather unfair of us, as if it were the only thing about him that mattered!

This story, of course, begins on the evening of the Resurrection.
According to John's account –

and yes, it does differ a little from some of the other accounts, as he puts in far more detail –
the first person to have seen the risen Jesus was Mary Magdalene.
She had gone to the tomb very early,
and found that it was empty.
And while she was weeping quietly in the garden,
Jesus had come to her and reassured her.
Peter and John had also seen the empty tomb,
but had not yet met with the risen Jesus,
and the account isn't terribly clear as to whether or not they realised what had happened.

Anyway, that evening the disciples are together,
and Jesus comes to them, as we heard read.
He reassures them,
and reminds them of some of his earlier teachings,
and then, apparently, disappears again.

But Thomas isn't there.
We aren't told whether he hadn't yet arrived
or whether he had just left the room for a few moments,
gone to the loo, or to get pizza for everyone,

or something similar.
But whatever, he misses Jesus.
And, of course,
he doesn't believe a word of it.
The others are setting him up.
Or it was a hallucination.
Or something.
But it couldn't possibly be true.
And for a whole week he goes round muttering,

while the others are rejoicing.
Goodness, he must have been cross and miserable,
and the others must have been so frustrated that they couldn't help him.

And then Jesus is there again,
with a special word of reassurance,
just for Thomas.

He gets his side out, showing the wound.

Perhaps Thomas would care to touch it?

This isn't ectoplasm,
it's proper flesh.

Thomas can take Jesus' hand again,
just as before.
And Thomas bows down in awe and worship.

So what can we learn from the story of Thomas?
I personally find the story a very liberating one.
From Thomas,
I learn that I have
permission to wait,
permission to doubt,

and permission to change my mind.

Firstly, then,

Thomas tells us we have permission to wait.

That sounds odd,
but don't forget it was a whole week until Jesus put him out of his misery.
It must have been a pretty endless time,
feeling sure that his friends had got it wrong,
wondering who was going mad,
them or him.
But Thomas put up with it.
He didn't abandon his friends,
he didn't run off and do something different.
Instead, he stayed with them and put up with the pain and confusion and bewilderment,
and ultimately Jesus put everything right.

The Lectionary celebrates this every year on this Sunday;

it is the anniversary of the day when Jesus came to Thomas and put it all right for him.

A whole week, though.

Imagine that.

It must have felt like an eternity of doubt,

of confusion,

of bafflement.

The others were all totally convinced they’d seen Jesus,

and as far as Thomas was concerned, they’d all run quite mad.

So often we want things now.
If we are unwell, or grieving,
we want instant healing –
we want the confusion to be resolved.
What was that old prayer:
"God, give me patience, and I want it now!"
An addict trying to give up cigarettes or drink or other drugs
wants the craving to go away.

Someone who is ill or injured feels terrible and longs to feel better.
We don't like to experience bad feelings, obviously,
and we want them to go away. Now.
We also don't like to watch someone else experiencing bad feelings.
We might try to deny their feelings,
telling them they don't feel like that.
Or we might try to tell them they are wrong or wicked to have those feelings.

I’ve heard people say that if we have asked for healing,

we should then proceed to deny we feel ill!

When you are grieving the loss of a loved one, I'm told one of the most difficult things is when friends want you to be “over it” by now.

It is hideous horribly difficult to watch someone else suffer,
and we develop these strategies of coping so that their suffering doesn't rub off on us.
Also, of course, we don't like to have negative feelings because somehow we think we are failing as Christians when we do.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s gone to Church in a bad mood but with a sweet smile pasted on, and a “Fine, thanks!” in response to anybody who asks how we are.

We don’t like to admit we aren’t feeling wonderful –

in fact, we may even have been told, as I have in my time, that it’s a sin to feel less than one hundred percent on top of the world one hundred percent of the time!

I think one of the things the story of Thomas gives us is permission to have bad feelings.
Permission to feel confused, or angry, or bereaved, or muddled, or ill, or craving, or whatever.

Permission to wait to feel better, to allow it to take its time.

Thomas also tells us we have permission to be wrong, and to doubt.
Thomas was wrong.
He thought that Jesus had not been raised.
But it wasn't the end of the world that he thought so.

All too often, I think that if I am wrong,
if I am mistaken,
if I make a nonsense of something,
it is the end of the world.
I confuse making a mistake with a deliberate sin,
and think that God and others will condemn me for it.
But no,
look what happened to Thomas.
Far from being condemned,
Jesus comes to him specially to prove he is alive.
To show Thomas that the others hadn't gone totally mad.
Jesus was extra specially kind to Thomas.

It is encouraging, isn’t it?

We’re allowed to doubt –

it’s not the end of the world if we find something difficult to believe!

So often we try to suppress our doubts,

to pretend that we believe everything we’re supposed to believe, all “our doctrines”,

feeling that if we wonder for one minute we’ll be condemned.

Or maybe our experience of Christ’s love is so very different from that of our neighbour’s that we wonder if it’s really valid at all.

The thing is, when that sort of thing happens,

when we suddenly wonder whether our faith is all a big nothing,

or when we wonder if we’ve got it right,

then the story of Thomas tells us not to worry.

As the prophet Isaiah tells us,

“Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying,

‘This is the way; walk in it.’”

“This is the way; walk in it.”

It’s okay to experiment with our faith, with our expression of our faith, and even, sometimes, with our whole lifestyle.

After all, if our faith doesn’t actually affect the way we live, it’s not much good –

but maybe we have allowed it to affect us to the point that the only people we know are Christians,

maybe even Christians who think exactly the same way we do?

The point is, if we get it wrong, Jesus will come to us, as he came to Thomas, and help us get back on track.

The Good Shepherd doesn’t hesitate to put on his Barbour and Wellies and go to find us if we get ourselves a bit lost.

So Thomas gives me permission to feel awful and

permission to make mistakes and to doubt.

But it would be wrong to leave it at that,

without looking briefly at the third permission Thomas gives us,

and that is to change our minds.

The thing is, Thomas was mistaken when he believed that Jesus had not risen from the dead.

Okay, fine.

But as soon as Jesus showed him he was wrong,

he changed his mind.

He fell down and worshipped the risen Jesus.

He felt ghastly for the whole week between Jesus' appearing to the rest of them, and Jesus appearing to him.

And that's okay.

But when Jesus did appear,

he forgot all about feeling ghastly,

he didn't get cross and go "Where were you?" or anything like that.

He just fell down and worshipped the risen Lord.

It doesn't matter if we feel awful for any reason.

It doesn’t matter if we get it wrong.

What does matter, though,

is if we are given the opportunity to correct ourselves,

or to put things right,

and we fail to take it.

Thomas didn't do that.

Thomas admitted he was wrong,

and he fell down and worshipped the risen Lord.

When we are shown, as Thomas was,

that we have made a mistake,

the thing to do is to put it right.

They do say that the person who never made a mistake never made anything, and that's very true.

But the point is, it is only by correcting our mistakes that we can make progress.

If we stay stubbornly convinced that we are right, and everybody else is wrong, we won't get anywhere.

We won't be freed to go on with Jesus.

Thomas is supposed to have gone on to found the Church in India.

He couldn't have done that if he had gone on being convinced he was right and everybody else was wrong.

He admitted he had been wrong,

and thus was free to put it behind him and go on with Jesus.

Are you able to do this?

Are you able to wait for clarification when things seem to have gone wrong?

Can you wait, trusting God that you will feel better in due course?

Can you live with your doubts and confusion,

perhaps opening the door to becoming a bigger person through them?

And can you put it all behind you and say, with Thomas, “My Lord and my God!” Amen.