Doubting Thomas
April 11, 2019
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| Caravaggio -The Incredulity of Saint Thomas-1601 |
When I checked the Rota
and found that I would be preaching today I wondered for a moment if the
scheduler wasn't chuckling over pairing me with the Gospel reading which
includes my namesake "Doubting Thomas".
Without exaggeration,
there have been many times in my life when I have lived up to that moniker
doubting and questioning my faith. Having started my journey as a boy in a New
York Synagogue, I have at times struggled feeling the pull of my Jewish
heritage and that of my new Christian faith. I even at times resented and
perhaps felt convicted being associated with the label “doubter”. I've often tried
to look beyond the scriptural record of biblical Thomas to find the origin and motivation
for his questioning the other disciple's account of the first appearance.
In my research this
week I happened across Dr. Diana Butler Bass, a scholar specializing in
American religion and culture. In her book, “Grateful: The Transformative Power
of Giving Thanks”, I found a basis for looking at events and emotions
surrounding the appearances of Jesus in a differently way which, in turn, inspired
this sermon.
I now think that Thomas
has gotten a bad rap. Post-enlightenment Christians read this as a story of
dogma and doubt. But Doubting Thomas’ story is, in my mind, about gratitude;
not doubt, a story of thanksgiving.
Let’s start with the
name we have assigned to Thomas for all of these many years — Doubting Thomas.
Of course, the word John uses is not “doubt” at all but “unbelieving”
(apistos). While that doesn’t have the same ring to it as the usual moniker, it
is certainly truer to what it means to believe in John’s Gospel.
Thomas doesn’t
necessarily lack confidence or is inclined not to believe or accept the account
of the other disciples, which would be doubt, but is skeptical – unbelieving.
As we heard in this morning’s
Gospel from John, Jesus’ disciples are gathered when their resurrected teacher
appears. But Thomas wasn't there to witness it. When the other disciples
recounted the event, Thomas balked: “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his
hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I
will never believe.” Thomas does not doubt that Jesus has risen but without
personally witnessing what the other disciples have experienced he’s skeptical,
he disbelieves.
A week later the
disciples were again in the house, the same room where they shared their last
meal with Jesus, only this time Thomas was there as well. The doors were shut,
and Jesus appeared a second time. He invites Thomas to put his fingers in the
wounds, and the disbelieving disciple exclaims that he now believes. And not
just believing but delivers a confession.
His seemingly simple
words, “My Lord and my God,” essentially summarize the entire Gospel. Thomas
said, “my” Lord and “my” God, not “the” Lord and “the” God because, confession
is not assent to dogma but a claim about relationship – “my Lord, my God.”
We might ask, to what
extent does Thomas need to see this flesh again in order for us to know the
truth in John 1:14; “And the Word became
flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son
from the Father, full of grace and truth.”
There is a sense that
Thomas’s request brings the Gospel full circle. Thomas’s confession takes us
all the way back to the beginning of the Gospel. We are reminded that for this
Gospel, incarnation, crucifixion, resurrection and the ascension are all one
event, interchangeably a part of the Word made flesh.
So, we need to see a
part of the story many overlook: the beginning.
John starts the story
with; “It was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of
the house where the disciples had met were locked out of fear.” The disciples
returned to a place where they had felt safe; the last place where they had
seen Jesus alive. There in the upper room around the same table where they had
shared their last meal together. They were cowering with fear in the dining
room of that house.
This makes sense. We
all, when we hear upsetting news, seek a familiar place filled with people who
can comfort and reassure us.
Then, having your dead
friend show up is about the least expected, least familiar thing you can
imagine. But Jesus did something very familiar, and by the way, very Jewish: He
says grace. Jesus offered a new prayer full of deep gratitude: “Peace”, then
feeds them once again, not of bread and wine, blood and flesh but with the Holy
Spirit.
The disciples were
locked in that dining room. Why? Because they were afraid. And in their fear,
Jesus appears, breathes on them, and speaks “peace.” And just like that, their
fear evaporates.
So, when Jesus shows up
at that table on the evening of the empty tomb in the room where a feast had
become a funeral, a new table is set - a table of gratitude – the gifts of God
for the people of God – with the power to drive out fear.
The second appearance
of Jesus is not about “Doubting Thomas.” It isn’t about dogma or the kind of
belief that expresses itself in a creed. It is a story of thanks. It’s a story
about Jesus showing up–yet again–at the dinner table to cast out fear and
transform us into a people of gratitude.
Sure, Thomas doubts
because he wasn’t at the first appearance. He didn’t receive the table
blessing, the gift of peace that Jesus brought his grieving friends. At that
point, Thomas wasn’t a grateful guy. He remembered what was lost. He was
probably afraid. He was certainly sad. So, he said, “Can Jesus be alive?” Thomas
was still living in fear, unwilling to enter into a grateful journey toward a
new reality.
It’s a fact that almost
all of the post-resurrection appearances involve eating and food. In the fifty
days between the Resurrection and the Ascension, Jesus shows up at meals and
tables, even in some cases, asking for food! And every time he does, there
would be a prayer. Because that is what Jews did and do – they thank God at the
beginning and the end of every meal. In Hebrew we say, Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha’olam,
hamotzi lechem min ha’aretz - Blessed are You, L-rd our G‑d, King of the Universe, who brings forth
bread from the earth. An expression of gratitude - a table grace. “Peace Be with You”.
All this makes me think
we’ve missed something important about Easter. We are often accused of skipping
over Good Friday too quickly to get to Easter. But I wonder if we skip over
Maundy Thursday too fast in our hurry to get to Good Friday. We’ve underplayed
Maundy Thursday’s dinner table in favor of Good Friday’s suffering on the
cross. What if the main story isn’t the violence of Friday, but the feast of
Thursday?
We always read the
dinner table from the cross. But what if we read the story the other way and
understood the cross through the experience of the table?
Dr. Bass asks; “what if
the story starts on Thursday?” Further she writes, “The Last Supper is the
final meal of the age - the age of injustice, oppression, debt, and sin - and
the First Feast of the “age to come” (the age of God’s reign of peace and
justice). She goes on to say; We are “passing over” from the rule of Caesar to
being the children of God, from the bondage of slavery to the freedom to serve
others. The table is set for the new world, we offer grateful prayers, and our
exodus is at hand.”
The religious
hypocrites, the authorities of the day who are complicit with Pontius Pilot
don’t want this to happen. The powers of this age want to destroy the table of
gratitude, the table set by God. Come Friday’s execution and the violent
attempt to destroy the table forever – they want to keep us enslaved - living
in perpetual fear.
But Jesus is dead. The
disciples return to that room to remember and mourn. But God says, “No!” God is
out of patience with history’s Pharaohs and Caesars and injustice and hunger,
oppression, violence and death. And so, Jesus rises. The tomb is empty.
And where does Jesus
go? Does he return to Calvary and point to the empty cross? No. Jesus rises and
goes back to the dining room to offer a table of peace with gratitude in
perpetuity. And just before the end of
the Gospel story, gratefulness banishes fear and thanksgiving replaces grief.
My name is Thomas and of
this I have no doubt.