It probably seems like a month ago, but if you can remember back to last Sunday, how did you spend your Easter?  A lot of us probably did many of the same things -- saw close friends and family members, shared a special meal.  For the children, there were probably Easter egg hunts and maybe a special surprise from a certain bunny. 

 

No matter how you spent your Easter, I hope it was a far cry from the way the disciples spent their first Easter so long ago, huddled together in a room.  It is hard for us to imagine how they must have been feeling that evening.  The trauma of the past week had no doubt left its mark.  The man they called the Messiah had been crucified, but his body was missing from the tomb.  Some were saying that Jesus was alive again, but there were also rumors that his body had been stolen.  The disciples may have believed there was now a price on their heads.  And so they huddled together, not only in fear of the religious authorities, but also with guilt over their own faithless words and actions; the last time some of these men had seen Jesus, they were glancing back over their shoulders as they ran in the opposite direction. 

 

In this morning’s Gospel lesson, ten of the disciples are huddled together in anxiety and fear, behind locked doors, when Jesus suddenly appears in the room with them.  Rather than saying “Shame on you!” for their denials and desertions of the past week, Jesus comes with a simple message: “Peace be with you!”  The disciples have probably heard this common greeting a thousand times before.  But now those words become a healing balm which give them a peace they have been lacking; Christ breathes peace into their lives and their souls, and then he gives them a mission: “As the Father has sent me, I am sending you," to bring that peace to others. 

 

As I mentioned, only ten of the twelve disciples were gathered in that room on that first Easter evening.  Two days earlier, Judas Iscariot had watched as his betrayal had led to Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion and -- filled with remorse -- Judas had hanged himself. 

 

And the other missing disciple was Thomas.  Where was Thomas that evening?  We don’t know, but whatever his reasons, he misses this dramatic experience of the risen Christ.  When the disciples later tell him, "We have seen the Lord!" he responds, "Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it."  He had seen Jesus die, and the eyewitness testimony of his ten close friends is not enough to convince Thomas; he must see the wounds himself to believe that Jesus is alive again.

 

This morning’s passage has given him the nickname "doubting Thomas."  That Jesus could die and be alive again is beyond the realm of ordinary human experience, and beyond Thomas’ ability to comprehend.  But Thomas’ doubt may be as much in his heart as it is in his head.  All of his friends are buzzing about the risen Christ’s appearance on that first Easter, but he wasn’t there to share in the experience.  Thomas may be feeling guilty about his absence, or feeling left out that Jesus didn't wait until he was present to appear.  Thomas' doubt isn't all about reason; it’s also emotional and relational and spiritual.

 

Jesus understands Thomas’ doubt, in all of its complexity, and so he makes a return appearance the following Sunday – repeating the whole Easter evening scene for Thomas’ benefit.  And rather than chastising him for his doubt and disbelief, Jesus affirms Thomas in his doubting and helps him move beyond it to faith.  Jesus invites Thomas to do what he needs to do in order to be convinced – to see and touch for himself the marks of the nails that prove the figure before him is the man who has been crucified.  When Thomas places his fingers in the wounds of Jesus, he exclaims “My Lord and My God!”  In doing so, Thomas is the first to speak the truth that has been revealed on the cross:  Jesus is Lord and God.

 

Doubt has been called “the skeleton in the closet of faith,” and for each of us to have a faith of integrity and truth, we need to bring our doubts of the closet.  Doubt is not the absence of faith, but rather stands in tension with faith.  Doubt challenges faith to move to a deeper and more honest level.  As poet Kahlil Gibran observed, "Doubt is pain, too lonely to know that faith is his twin brother."

 

Thomas’ Greek name is Didymus, which means "twin.”  That nickname may be metaphorical because Thomas embodies so clearly this dual nature of faith and doubt.  Maybe Thomas actually did have a twin.  Or perhaps he's called Didymus because we are his twin, for Thomas’ story is our story, too. 

 

John wrote his gospel near the end of the first century, decades after the resurrection, and he hoped to reach people who had neither seen nor heard Jesus in the flesh.  John’s challenge – one that continues for the church – is how to bring people to faith when Jesus is no longer around to be seen or touched. 

 

The resurrection does challenge our sense of reason.  But the majesty and mystery of God is far beyond what the finite human mind can comprehend.  As the apostle Paul wrote in his first letter to the Corinthians [13:12], “For now we see in a mirror, dimly; but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.” 

 

With the story of Thomas, John takes our words of doubt right out of our mouths and puts them into Thomas,’ so that each of us has the opportunity to think about how we do – or do not – come to believe. 

 

I suspect that at one time or another, many of us, like Thomas, have had our doubts about matters of faith.  Is God really there?  Does God really love and forgive me?  Does God hear my prayers?  And the central belief of the Christian faith: did God really raise Jesus from the dead?

 

And how do we keep the faith through difficult times?  How can we proclaim the promise of Easter and new life in Christ as we face life-altering events such as the disintegration of a relationship, the loss of a job, a diagnosis of cancer, or the death of a loved one?  In that same letter to the Corinthians [13:13], Paul tells us that faith is one of the three great gifts of God.  But for many of us, faith is more like a wrestling match; our doubt grows out of our experience of life itself.  With so much pain, so much despair in the world, how can we believe that there is a God?

 

Many people wondered where God was in the midst of last December’s tsunami.  And for many people, a drama of faith and doubt began when that first plane disappeared into the side of the North Tower on September 11, 2001.  PBS addressed this subject a couple of years ago in its Frontline special “Faith and Doubt at Ground Zero.”  The show focused on the question “Where was God on September 11?”  For some, God was right there at Ground Zero.  For others, God was among the missing.  And for many people of faith, the face of God was altered on September 11 -- the old, comforting images no longer sufficed.

 

An Episcopal priest who volunteered at Ground Zero said, “God couldn't be counted on in the way that I thought God could be counted on. ... God seemed absent. ... I was left with nothing but that thing we call faith.  But faith in what?  I wasn't so sure."

 

A woman whose firefighter husband died that day said, "I can't bring myself to speak to [God] anymore because I feel so abandoned.  I guess deep down inside I know that He stills exists, and that I have to forgive and move on.  But I'm not ready to do that yet."

 

Our doubt grows out of our experience of life itself, and hopefully, answers will emerge from the ashes of our pain and struggle and loss.

 

Thomas used his doubts to test the truth of what he had been told, and he discovers the meaning of the Risen Christ in his life.  But where does Thomas’ story leave the rest of us – generations, through the ages, who were not there, who will never have the opportunity to lay eyes or hands on the person of Jesus?  Although we are outside the circle of Thomas’ story, Jesus nevertheless includes us in his words, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet come to believe” – he’s talking about us -- blessed are you and I!!

 

Times of doubt do and will come for all of us, as they came for Thomas.  But just as growth can come through pain, so can faith come through doubt.  And our doubts and questions can lead us to a deeper, stronger, and more lasting faith. 

 

My prayer is that each of you may have the courage to face and give words to your doubts so that you may, for yourself, come to faith as Thomas did.  May each of us come to a faith that affirms Jesus is indeed the Risen Lord, and may our confession of faith renew and transform us into the Easter people God calls us to be.  Amen.

---