Sunday, April 21, 2013

The Next Words of Christ: No More Disbelief! Believe! John 20: 19 - 22; 24 - 31


            It is Easter Sunday evening.  The disciples have blockaded themselves behind all sorts of barriers.  They are hiding behind locked doors to keep out the religious and political authorities.  They are hiding behind locked hearts to block out the memory of how they abandoned Jesus.  They are hiding behind locked minds to veil the unnerving possibility that Jesus is indeed risen—as Mary Magdalene reported earlier that day.  Hiding behind physical, emotional, and mental barriers, the disciples find themselves face to face with the resurrected Jesus.  With “Peace be with you,” he offers them his forgiveness and encourages them to forgive themselves.  Breathing the Holy Spirit out, he breathes new life into this group of his followers and restores the faith of each one there.
            But not all his disciples are there that 1st Easter Sunday evening.  Thomas is among the missing.  Why he is not there, we do not know.  Three evenings ago, when soldiers arrested Jesus, all his disciples scattered—hiding so that they would not be arrested, charged, tried, convicted, and crucified.  Perhaps, burdened by his own guilt, Thomas has not yet left his individual hiding place to join with the other fearful disciples.  Why he is not there this 1st Easter Sunday evening, we do not know.  Perhaps Thomas had re-joined the group hiding together in this locked room, but he left earlier that evening.  Why?  To see the empty tomb for himself, to determine whether it’s safe for the group to come out, to get food and other supplies while they remain holed up for awhile?  Why he is not there, we do not know.
            But we can safely assume his emotions run high when he hears that Jesus has appeared to the other disciples in his absence.  What is Thomas feeling?  Surely grief over the death of his beloved teacher, friend, and mentor.  What is Thomas feeling?  Regret—for the part he played in Jesus’ death.  Stomach full from the Passover feast—food and wine, he dozed in the upper room as Jesus and the others went to pray.  Hearing of Jesus’ arrest, he hid from the authorities.  He offered no testimony at Jesus’ trial.  He did not even offer his presence at the foot of Jesus’ cross.  His actions speak of cowardice, lack of faith, and betrayal.  What is Thomas feeling?  Jealousy—of the other disciples’ encounter with the risen Jesus; jealousy—of the confidence this experience has re-birthed in them; jealousy—of the peace and strength that seems to permeate their conversations and actions now.  What is Thomas feeling?  Anger—that he missed out on this experience; anger that Jesus did not choose to appear to him.  I hear that anger loud and clear in his words.  “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands, unless I put my finger into the wounds left by the nails, unless I put my hand in the hole in his side, I refuse to believe.
            It is not his doubt but instead how Thomas reacts to his emotions—regret, jealousy, and anger—that threatens this fragile group of believers.  On that 1st Easter Sunday evening, Jesus breaks through physical, emotional and mental barriers to reach his disciples.  Released from their guilt by his forgiveness, empowered by the breath of his peace, the other disciples are revived, renewed, re-invigorated.  And then Thomas, who has traveled with them, learned with them, served with them, eaten with them every day of the last 3 years; Thomas not only questions their encounter with Jesus, but he refuses to believe their testimony.  It is as if Thomas is calling them all liars.  
            I taught high school students math for 15 years.  I can remember hearing a student make a comment under his or her breath. And I would say, “Why did you just say that about such and such. . . ?  Sometimes the student would respond, “I didn’t say that.”  And I would think to myself, I know what I heard.  But then I would begin to doubt.  I can remember seeing a student look on another student’s paper and then return to his/her own test, and I would walk over and say “Keep your eyes on your own paper.  This is a test of what you’ve learned.” Sometimes the student would respond, “I am looking only on my paper.”  nd I would think to myself, I know what I saw.  But then I would begin to doubt.  The student would say I didn’t . . . and I would doubt my own experience—what I heard, what I saw. 
            I wonder if the disciples feel this same way when Thomas, who has been like a brother these last 3 years, refuses to accept their experience.  Do they begin to doubt what their own senses have told them?  They saw Jesus.  They heard his voice.  They felt the air from his breath. They smelled the aromas from it.  But when Thomas refuses to believe their testimony by challenging their group encounter, do the other disciples begin to doubt their shared group experience?  Thomas’ challenge of their encounter and refusal to believe them tears the fabric of their community.  Therein lies the problem with Thomas and his behavior.
            It does not lie with his personal doubts, but instead with how he chooses to express those doubts, in the context of his regret, jealousy and anger.  The problem lies in what he does to the community of faith. He lashes out at them with an ultimatum—I have to see, I have to hear, I have to experience before I will even entertain the possibility that you all have seen, that you all have heard, that you all have experienced.  The problem is that Thomas puts his desires before the needs of the faith community.  If only he could name his emotions, own his doubts, and ask for what he needs—not what he wants but what he needs. If only he could say—I hear you had this encounter with Jesus, and it appears to have been a turning point for you all.  I see confidence in your posture, and I hear forgiveness in your voices.  I wish I could have been here because I feel numb with grief. I am paralyzed with regret.  I feel shut out by jealousy.  I need your help to claim Jesus’ forgiveness. I need your patience while I sort through all that has happened.  I need time before I can claim with you—Christ is risen.  If only Thomas could respond that way.
            Our scripture says “after 8 days.”  There is a period of time after the other disciples share with Thomas their encounter with the risen Christ.  There is a period of time in which the community of faith gives Thomas what he needs—time, patience, and forgiveness—even though he does not ask for it.  There is a period of time in which the disciples give Thomas what he needs—forgiveness—for his distrusting, hurtful words—even though he doesn’t ask for it.  There is a period of time when the disciples give Thomas what he needs—patience with his doubts—even though he doesn’t ask for it.  There is a period of time when the faith community holds Thomas in their trusting, nurturing, fragile embrace—a period of time until Thomas can receive what he needs from Jesus.
            After 8 days, the whole group is behind locked doors when Jesus appears again.  Offering Thomas the same sensory encounter he had offered the other disciples previously, Jesus invites Thomas to look, to listen, and to touch—and then, to respond with no more disbelief—to respond with belief.  Even though Thomas’ words and actions have been chipping away at the foundation of his faith community, Jesus offers him forgiveness with the invitation “Believe—for yourself” and with the command “no more disbelief,” no more ripping apart this faith community.
            We may find ourselves playing the role of Thomas.  As individuals, demanding what we want or what we desire instead of putting the needs of the faith community first, like Thomas we threaten the health and well-being of our church.  Naming our own emotions, claiming our individual fears, asking for what we need—not what we want, but what we need—we can be truthful about our doubts our anxieties, and our fears without harming our congregation. 
            We may find ourselves—as a congregation—cast in the role of the other disciples. 
Jesus breathes new life into us—this community of faith—enabling us to forgive one another; empowering us to see, to name, and to stand up to conflict between individual desires and the needs of the entire congregation.  Relying on the peace Jesus extends to us and renewed by the spirit-strength he breathes into us, we can claim the promise of a vibrant ministry here—even when individuals question our future.  A welcoming community of faith, we are called to hold onto those in our midst who experience doubt and fear.  We hold onto to each other by claiming the grace, the love, and the forgiveness of God.  We claim it for others even when they cannot claim it for themselves.  How?  By praying, welcoming, forgiving, calling, visiting, sending cards, feeding—all of this is holding onto each other.             
            Just as Thomas ultimately received from Jesus what he needed—to dispel his doubts, to overcome his fears, to accept and receive forgiveness, to claim my Lord and my God!  so too will we—each one of us and all of us—receive from Jesus what we need—all in God’s time.
            No more disbelief . . . Jesus the Christ will help us believe.

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