Trusting Doubting Thomas Adam M.L. Tice March 30, 2008

John 20:19-31

Thomas, as we all know, gets a bad rap for his doubt. The traditional take is that we aren’t supposed to be a “doubting Thomas” — instead, we are supposed to have a faith that doesn’t require rational experience. The hip new take is that Thomas wasn’t so bad after all, and that it is OK to be incredulous.

One of the most intriguing points I’ve heard has to do with Thomas being called “Didymus,” the twin. Twins are all too familiar with mistaken identity, so naturally Thomas would want definitive proof about the person claiming to be . Some scholars go so far as to suggest that Thomas bore a striking resemblance to Jesus himself, and got the nickname of Twin from the other disciples as a result. So a little doubt on his part would be natural.

Whatever our take on Thomas, it really is unfair to base our interpretation of him entirely on these few verses. I wouldn’t want a few minutes of doubt in my life to earn me the nickname “Doubting Adam” for the next two millennia. A more appropriate name for me, I hope, would be “Generally trusting Adam” or “Fairly consistently faithful Adam” or “Rational, but accepting of the mystical realities of spirituality Adam.”

Thomas shows up elsewhere in John, and another story allows us a different take on his faith. In the prologue to the story of Lazarus, Mary, and , Jesus delays going to . Finally, when Lazarus is in fact dead, Jesus says, “let us go to him.” Thomas responds, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”

Jesus has already received numerous threats on previous visits to . Bethany is within two miles of the city. Thomas isn’t being sarcastic or pessimistic when he suggests that the trip would mean death. He is being realistic. Going to Jerusalem could very well mean that the disciples will meet the same fate as Lazarus.

Thomas understood something about following Jesus. He had a faith profound enough that he was willing to face death. In fact, he had a faith that recognized that death was a likely consequence of discipleship. He was willing to remain a faithful disciple, following Jesus into likely danger, even if it meant joining Lazarus in the grave. This is a profound faith in the virtue of Jesus’ teaching. Thomas recognized already that Jesus was a great rabbi.

So we can already see that his so-called doubt wasn't about a lack of faith in Jesus. What difference, then, does it make for Thomas to see Jesus’ hands and side? If he is already a true disciple, why is this encounter so profound?

Hyattsville Mennonite Church Page 1 I would suggest a middle road for understanding Thomas. He didn’t move suddenly from no faith to having faith, nor does his insistence on evidence provide us with a model of enlightened, rational thinking. Instead, Thomas integrated a new experience in a way that allowed his faith to grow, and in doing so his understanding of God became more complete.

Like Thomas, many of us in the rational western world have a hard time accepting the idea of miracles. I know I do. In a country where medical science shields us from some of the most devastating illnesses that afflict less privileged areas, we have little room in our imagination for healing miracles. I usually accept the idea that God uses science and human ingenuity to intervene in peoples’ lives. In effect, God uses doctors for healing. I might even go so far as to say that doctors work miracles.

When I was in Cote d’Ivoire, West Africa, however, I was confronted with the idea that when doctors aren’t present, sometimes God will use different means. That God will still work miracles. Sure, I have always generally accepted that God might intervene and heal somebody in a way that science couldn’t explain, but I had no experience of such miracles. It was more of a half-hearted faith in something I didn’t have to rely on. But in Cote d’Ivoire, I visited a “healing community,” and I spent the night in the home of a man called the “blind prophet.”

While touring around the village, I saw people walking who I was told had been on crutches the day before. There were dozens of people who had come from all over the country to be prayed for. They met in a mud and straw church five times a day to worship and pray. The blind prophet asked me what life would be like for him in America. Would people drive him around? Would people dismiss him because of his blindness? Do people in America need faith healers?

The people in his village came based on the testimony of people who had been healed before them, and they came in confidence that they too would be healed. These were people who had no access to the health care that my Western privilege could buy. When I left the village, the blind prophet's wife gave me a chicken. I named it Bob.

After meeting the blind prophet, I had to reassess my understanding of miracles. I needed to integrate what I had experienced with what I knew as a rational person. What would I do with the idea of a God who occasionally intervenes in human life through miracles? And who on other occasions, does not?

Like Thomas, I wasn’t witness to a healing — only the after effects. I was blessed for having seen — you who have not seen get to decide how to respond to my testimony. The relationship between experience and testimony is a tricky one. I’ve told you of what I witnessed in a little village in West Africa. I’ve explained it to you as rationally and factually as I can. It is up to you to determine what to do with my testimony. Do you dismiss it? Do you assume that there must be some other rational explanation for the healings? Do you accept my interpretation? How do you integrate

Hyattsville Mennonite Church Page 2 my testimony into your thinking and living? I’ve laughed at videos of televangelists smacking the heads of desperate people. What does my reaction say about the faith of those involved? What does it say about my faith?

This integration is what Thomas couldn’t do with the testimony of the other disciples, but it is what the writer of the gospel asks us to do in response to Thomas. Hardly seems fair. We who have not seen are asked to rely upon the witness of one who did. It is a sign of great faith when we can learn from the experiences of others and integrate the lessons of those experiences. This is why it is so important that we share in one another's stories, and ask each other questions.

Every encounter with someone who is different from ourselves (which, in all honesty, is everyone) is an opportunity to learn something about God. Every person you meet has a different testimony — a different story — of how they understand God. First and foremost, we need to hear from one another in our own congregations. But beyond that, we can learn from people from other churches, people from other denominations, or from other faiths, and even those who profess no faith in God. Their experience of God matters, and it can change us if we allow it to. We will not always accept their interpretation of their experience, but we are blessed if we learn from it.

After hearing the testimony of the other apostles, when Thomas finally saw the wounds on Jesus’ hands and side, he immediately reformulated his belief. I think that prior to this experience, Thomas very well could have called Jesus “Lord.” His willingness to follow Jesus even to death indicates that. But now, Thomas says, “My Lord, and my God!”

Thomas understood in that instant that Jesus was not simply a great rabbi, not just an amazing moral teacher. In order to bring fulfillment to all Jesus had taught, in order to bring about the new world that Jesus preached, Jesus’ authority had to extend beyond the realm of ethics and law. Jesus, in his resurrection, demonstrated his dominion even over death. Serving Jesus, Thomas learned, wasn’t just about following him to death. It was about rising with Christ into new life. This new life is the source of our desire for reconciliation, our peacemaking, our justice building. It is the foundation of God’s work in the world.

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