Easter 2 C: Blessed Doubt
Dear Partner in Preaching,
The story of Thomas has always been one of my favorites. Of course, it’s not just a story about Thomas. It’s also a story about frightened disciples. So scared, in fact, that, they hid behind locked doors. And who can blame them? They had just witnessed the one they confessed to be the Messiah betrayed by one of his own, tried and convicted by both religious and civil authorities, and then brutally executed. Little wonder they were afraid, assuming that the next step would be to round up Jesus’ followers. But when Jesus comes on the scene, their fear falls away and is replaced by joy.
This, I think, is the way we assume faith should work. Yes, perhaps you’ve got doubts and questions and fears, but then God arrives and those all fall away, replaced by joy and wonder and, of course, unshakeable faith.
But that’s not the way it works with Thomas. He doubts. He questions. He disbelieves. He’s not satisfied with second-hand reports and wants to see for himself. And again I would say, who can blame him? He was, after all, one of those who saw his Lord and friend mistreated, beaten, and then crucified and has probably spent the last few days pulling the broken pieces of his life back together and trying to figure out what to do next. In fact, he might have already started getting on with his life – why else, I wonder, is he out and about when the rest of the disciples are hiding behind locked doors.
So here’s what I’m wondering a day or two after a joyous Easter service: do we make room for the Thomases in our world? Because I suspect that their number is legion, even among those who worshipped with us on Sunday and certainly among those with little or no familiarity with our congregation or faith.
Thomas does come to believe. He sees Jesus for himself. And after that experience he not only assents or consents to the witness of his comrades but makes the most profound confession of faith about Jesus contained in the New Testament, calling Jesus “my Lord and my God,” bookending the confession in John 1 where the eternal word that becomes flesh is not only with God but is God.
But all of that comes after he has a chance to voice his doubt. And sometimes faith is like that – it needs the freedom of questions and doubt to really spring forth and take hold. Otherwise, faith might simply be confused with a repetition of creedal formulas, or giving your verbal consent to the faith statements of others. But true, vigorous, vibrant faith comes, I think, from the freedom to question, wonder, and doubt.
Not for everyone, of course. For some, faith comes more easily. Maybe many of the other disciples were like that (although lets not forget that they got to see what Thomas asked for!). But for others it’s harder.
To tell you the truth, I have no idea what the other disciples thought of Thomas’ initial skepticism. Maybe they were scandalized. Or maybe they sympathized. Further, I suspect that John’s whole point in including this story in his Gospel is to affirm the faith of his community, a group of people who “had not seen yet believed.” But on this Sunday, I think it’s important to make room for a little doubt.
Indeed, I think that if we don’t have any doubts we’re probably not taking the story seriously enough. I mean, really – think about what we confess when we come together on Sundays: that the Creator of the vast cosmos not only knows we exist but cares deeply and passionately about our ups and downs, our hopes and dreams, and all the rest. This confession is, quite literally, in-credible (that is, not believable). And yet we come together and in hearing the Word and partaking of the Sacraments and by being joined to those around us through prayer and song, we come to believe.
For some it’s easy. For others, more difficult. For some, hearing the testimony of Scripture is enough. For others, they need something more personal and direct. This week, let’s preach for that other group, Dear Partner. Let’s tell folks it’s okay to have questions. Indeed, let’s commend them – even bless them! – for their questions. Because questions and wonder and doubt and even skepticism are signs of interest and curiosity and these, quite often, are the soil in which vibrant faith is born.
If you are willing, you might even pass out 3×5 cards and invite people to write down one thing they have a question about regarding the faith and to pass those questions in with the offering. Who knows, maybe the question asked will be something in one of the biblical readings. Maybe it will be something they’ve wondered about for years. Maybe it will be rather trivial (why did God create mosquitoes – something I’ve wondered about!). Maybe it will be something monumental – why is my loved one in such constant pain. No matter what the question, simply by making room for it you are taking that person seriously and creating the space for an authentic encounter with God.
I’ve invited this exercise before and each time preachers have told me that they were humbled and amazed at the seriousness of the questions and the insight they yielded into their people. (They also said it gave them lots of material in the coming weeks for adult forums, sermons, and private visits!)
Thomas comes to faith because he first has the chance to voice his doubt and questions and then experiences Jesus for himself. Perhaps the opportunity before us this week, Dear Partner, is provide the same opportunities for the many Thomases sitting in our pews.
However you decide to preaching this familiar passage, Dear Partner, know that God will use your words and faith (and your questions, too!) as the means by which the Spirit works to create faith that is itself a tremendous blessing. Thank you for your commitment to this task.
Yours in Christ,
David
Because Thomas is called the Twin, and we don’t know who his twin is, I have always claimed him as my twin — more than any of the disciples, Thomas reflects, and encourages me; because this is who I am, I canb listen and learn from others who live the question, as well as the faith.
Brilliant!
I’ve come to consider Thomas as Jesus’ twin. Who knows, maybe there was some physical resemblance but I tend to think that Thomas’ doubt comes because he’s serious about his faith. He’s not one of these “The Bible says it, I believe it, that settles it” kind of people. Instead he’s invested in his faith, as is Jesus.
Our church’s “Lenten Project” this year was to end each worship with a time in which I invited everyone in the congregation to write prayers on a certain topic which I then compiled as a litany to begin the following week’s worship. It was a very effective program and helped me and the members of the church hear more clearly the struggles and hopes of one another. The topic one week was on doubt, based on the “I believe; help my unbelief,” passage and the prayers people wrote were incredibly moving. There is no question that people struggle with doubt — about God, faith, the future, and themselves — and I think it was very healing for them to hear through our collective prayers that they are not alone.
I really like this idea. How was your question phrased for a prayer on doubt? Joyce McGirr1215@aol.com
All of my introductions to the prayer were based on the theme of the sermon preceding it. In this sermon on “I believe; help my unbelief” I had talked about how doubt puts us in the place God can most use us because “when we join our hearts to God’s in prayer, our very uncertainty will leave a channel for God to work through us to bring healing to others.” I then said, “For out Lenten prayer today, I would like you to write prayers confessing the places in your life where you most struggle with doubt, whether they be doubts about God, doubts about yourself, or doubts about the future. Whatever doubts you may have, bring them to God in prayer so that in your confession, you clear the way for God to work in you and through you.”
Whatever the prayer of the week was, I made sure that I invited them to express their feelings, questions, and needs, rather than writing prayers that asked God for a particular outcome. That made it easier for them I think because I wasn’t asking them to compose nice “churchy” prayers but just express their feelings prayerfully.
Teresa of Avila said, “Lord, I don’t love you. I don’t want to love you. But, I want the want to love you”. Imagine if the Church were a place that welcomed the those sentiments.
I don’t recall who said this, but the opposite of faith isn’t doubt but certainty.
I didn’t come up with it, but my parishioners have heard that from me over and over again.
Could you expound on this?
Thank you.
I believe we all have names that folks put on us that we do not like. People called me pigmy and general and other things I did not like. I believe even Thomas might find reason to not like his name “doubting Thomas” if he knew the negative ways people interpreted it and even preached it by beating him up for his public exposure of his doubt, wonderment and openness. Turns out his openness outs a dirty little secret we keep in the church and have trouble talking about because we believe it to be a weakness so we hide it, as in the Jack Lemon movie, Mass Appeal. However, what some interpret and judge as great weakness gives us strength to be open with each other about the challenges, struggles and difficulties we face as people of faith. Besides being dishonest it is misleading to act as if these doubts are not part of our experience and our dishonesty or unwillingness to speak of these will be one good reason why others will not take us and our faith seriously. Thanks for your help and support each week. You are a gift to us.
Great discussion, for me when I read the question do we have room for the Thomases in our world, it brought me to the larger question of Do we have room for the Thomas in ourselves. I chose as my sermon title “I try to keep faith in my doubts” a quote from the sounds of music. To me it reminded me that it is not just about stepping out on faith but being in a faith journey where we hold and trust the questions that doubt raises for us. If we embrace the Thomas in ourselves the perhaps it is easier to embrace the Thomas in others. Thanks to David and comments for a place to enter into the refection
Your thoughts reminded me of a young woman in my youth group who during our class time on Sunday mornings she let me know in no uncertain terms that her parents made me come and that she didn’t know if she believed all this stuff we were talking about…every week. She dared me to tell her to stop it or be quiet. I unfailingly told her that God loved her and her questions – because it meant that she cared, cared enough to think about it and reflect upon it, wrestle with it – as she should! This stuff is to important to be eaten whole without wondering what it is we’re taking into ourselves.
God created the mosquitoes to feed the bats…
I have heard this story many times. I would ask this question: In light of my own context, is it possible that this story is more than questioning of faith? Meaning, could this be Jesus being the first to show the disciples what healing looks like? Jesus retains the wounds but he appears to those who scattered and denied at his arrest. They witnessed what would happen to them and they locked themselves away (possibly fearing they were next). But Jesus comes into the locked room, shows them and does miracles. Could proof also be a form of healing in that they were the people Jesus taught, loved, and trusted and the healing part of this is that he returns to them?
Another lesson here is that it is only when we are willing to show our doubts fears faults and flaws that grace mercy love and peace can work. It is like God’s floods in to our lives through the cracks in them. How wonderful if all our congregations were places that shared that with our communities.
I think it is important to point out that doubt is not unbelief. it is ok to have doubts.
ISTM that we confuse ‘scientific’ skepticism with trust/untrust (pistos/apistos). Scientific skepticism – doubt – is based on a fundamental trust of experiential knowing in tandem with models of reality. The ‘doubt’ is allowing our models of reality to be shaped an shifted by evidence. We ‘doubt’ the models of theology because they don’t seem to reflect our lived or observed experiences.
Trust is the other side of the gap of fear. I stopped trusting Hispanics when our daughter was hit by a car driven by a 15 year old Hispanic boy. Not doubt, not skepticism, but fear and anger and blaming. I was changed when my wife talked about the Hispanics around us who’d been hurt by others. Their wounds gave healing to mine. And I trusted again.
Dear David,
I used your great suggestion this Sunday. I asked my parishioners to fill out 3×5 cards with their questions/doubts on one side, and where they have seen the wounds of Christ on the other. These cards are amazing! Their questions and thoughts about Jesus and faith touch me deeply.
Later, one of the teenage girls asked me at coffee hour “How come God is not a girl?” to which I said “Who said She isn’t?” Then we talked for awhile about language for God. What a day!!!
I always find your commentary insightful and helpful. Thank you.
I should add that by “the wounds of Christ” it was related to the sermon where I spoke about them being the poor, the outcast, the lonely, etc… Essentially, where our inhumanity to one another has caused these wounds.