Doubting Thomas – Faithful Thomas
Rev. Eugene N. Nelson, Jr.
The Community Church of Sebastopol
April 3, 2005
John 20: 19-29
Reading this morning’s text, the familiar story of “Doubting Thomas,” naturally makes me think of another story – The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams. I’m sure the same story came to your mind as you were listening. The Velveteen Rabbit is a classic story about what it means to be real. In the story a small boy received a small velveteen rabbit for Christmas. When it was new and shiny, the Rabbit lived in the nursery and talked to the other toys. The mechanical toys felt especially superior and pretended they were real because they had springs and could move. The Rabbit asked the Skin Horse, who was the oldest and wisest toy, “What is real?”
“Real isn’t how you’re made,” said the Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, then you become real.”
“Does it hurt?” asked the rabbit.
“Sometimes,” said the horse. “But when you are Real, you don’t mind being hurt.”
“Does it happen all-at-once, like being wound up, or bit-by bit?”
“It doesn’t happen all-at-once,” said the Horse. “You become. It takes a long time…Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out, and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. (I think I know how that feels!) But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real, you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
So the Velveteen Rabbit was loved by the Boy, and dragged around the garden, and left out in the dew; and he became very shabby. One day, the Nurse tried to throw the bunny away, but the Boy said, “You can’t do that. He isn’t a toy; he’s Real.” And the Velveteen Rabbit shivered with joy, for he realized that the magic had happened to him. At last he was Real!
Isn’t that the issues for Thomas in our text, and indeed for all of us? What is real? Or, more specifically, when it comes to Easter and these days after Easter, is the resurrected Jesus real? And what is it that makes him real? Easter has come and gone. No more “Hallelujah” chorus, lilies have almost quit blooming. It is real? How can we know it’s real?
A seminary professor writes, “Some years ago, speaking at Concordia College in Minnesota, I was asked, ‘What proof do we have of the resurrection?’ I had just spoken during our luncheon with a young pastor who was struggling with a congregation in rural North Dakota. I therefore responded, ‘Proof? The only proof I have at the moment is that next Sunday, out in a remote crossroads somewhere in North Dakota, a young pastor will stand up and preach to about 30 North Dakota farm families. She will do so despite the fact that her church is not growing, despite the fact that no one will thank her after the service, despite the fact that she receives a pitifully small salary for it and very little affirmation from her mostly passive and taciturn congregation. She and her sermon are the only ‘proof’ I have.’”
One could argue that the existence of the church is one of the best proofs for the truth of – the reality of – resurrection. How do you get from that group of frightened, disheartened, despondent disciples hiding in a room, fearing for their lives, to the courageous, fiery, fearless group who literally risk and give their lives to preach the good news of the risen Christ in the months and years after that first Easter? How do you account for such a dramatic transformation – this pitiful band of followers becoming the church? Theologian George Lindbeck noted, “That with no army, no land, no power as the Romans defined power, the church confronted Rome and won.” Said Lindbeck, “Something must have happened at Easter.”
So, when thinking about the reality of Easter, what makes it real, we can look to the existence of the church of Jesus Christ. Perhaps we can also look to our own lives. A pastor shares this story: “We were having a discussion of ‘difficult Christian beliefs.’ In due time, someone mentioned the difficulty of believing in the resurrection of Christ. Many found this a rather farfetched possibility. Life from death? How can that be credible?
A woman in the group spoke up. ‘Well, I do believe in the resurrection”, she said. “I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it. When my husband walked out on me, I could have died. I did die. My life was over. Dead end. But then, by the grace of God, and with the coaxing of good friends, I came back to life. I got a whole new life. It was a miracle. I do believe in resurrection, because I’ve lived it.’”
Over the years I’ve have known a number of people who would make a similar affirmation – people who suffered the loss of a spouse or child, who went through a traumatic divorce, who saw a once promising career come to an end; people for whom life seemed a dead-end with no way out. But somehow they found a way out – a new direction, new meaning, new hope, yes… new birth. Something, someone, got them through. They experienced resurrection. I’m sure there are some here this morning who are still looking for that new direction, that sense of meaning, that hope. I know my father certainly is. My hope and prayer is that you too may experience resurrection, that it will be real for you, that the stone will be rolled away and you will emerge from whatever tombs bind you. And I think it will happen; it will be real.
So resurrection can become real in the life of the church. It can become real in our own personal experiences of resurrection. But I want to return to The Velveteen Rabbit for a moment and to the love that makes him real, even when he is old and shabby and looks nothing like he did on his first Christmas. Love makes you real. I think of Thomas. Thomas wants the truth, not a faith of smoke and mirrors. But what is going to make it real for him?
The story of Thomas and his encounter with the risen Jesus comes around almost every year the first Sunday after Easter, but I never get tired of reading it…I suppose because I am so much like him. As one pastor says, “Thomas is a stand-in for all of us who want to see something for ourselves before we decide whether or not it is true.” I, for instance, have heard some pretty convincing stories about UFO’s in my life, but until I actually see one, I am going to remain pretty skeptical.” I’ve heard some pretty fantastic stories from people who have told me about the monster fish they’ve hooked… some in this place today. But it won’t really be true for me unless I see it. Now I’m not saying your fish story isn’t true – most of the time – I just need to see it for myself really to believe it. (Of course, all the fish stories I’ve told you over the years are absolutely true.)
Seeing is believing. It is an understandable attitude. John must have understood it. Why else would he have told us about Thomas? Even Jesus must have understood it. Why else would he have come back to that same room a week later and repeated the entire scene just for the benefit of Thomas? But you know what I think really made it real for Thomas? “Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’” Jesus does not dismiss Thomas, does not denigrate him for his lack of trust, does not speak a word of irritation or judgment. He says, “Peace.” He speaks a word of understanding, a word of caring, a word of love. And that’s just about all Thomas needs. The love makes it Real – makes Jesus real for Thomas. Thomas doesn’t even bother to place his hand in the nail holes. He doesn’t need to. Love has made the difference – the loving, caring, forgiving presence of the risen Christ.
Yes, I wish I could have been in that room with Thomas – wish I could have seen that face, heard that voice, touched those ruined hands. And yet, I have been there. As I sat with my mother, watching her take her final breaths, I heard the word spoken, “Peace be with you,” and I knew neither one of us was alone. In that moment, Easter was real. As we gathered around the table, twelve at a time, on Maundy Thursday and broke the bread, he slipped through the closed doors of the sanctuary and stood among us, saying “Peace.” He, a part of our life and we, a part of his. Easter was real. I have been there…and so have you. Here, taste the bread, share the cup. Always, the love makes it real.
Barbara Brown Taylor has said, “’Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side.’ Can we really do that? No. Can the story make us feel as if we can? Yes. If we open ourselves up to it. If we believe, because believing is all the Holy Spirit needs to bring us to life, breathing on us the same way Jesus breathed on his disciples. The story is already alive, with or without us, God wants us to be part of it…to be part of Jesus Christ’s risen life on earth – so that the brave, fragile testimony goes on being heard: ‘We have seen the Lord!’ In the flesh? No. In the story? Possibly. In our life together? Absolutely.”