Confessing A Wounded Lord
David C. Myers
March 30, 2008
Easter - 2nd
Genesis 32:22 - 32
John 20:19 - 31
Text: Then Jesus said to Thomas, "Put your finger here and see My hands. Reach out your hand and put it in My side. Do not doubt, but believe." . . . John 20:27
Every year after Easter Sunday, the lectionary Gospel reading focuses on the disciple Thomas. Yes, doubting Thomas. Even though he has had a lot of bad press down through the years, I've always loved Thomas. In fact, people who act like Thomas are often my favorite Christians (or almost Christians, as the case may be). You know who they are. They are the people who question almost everything that we choose not to question - perhaps because we are afraid to know the answer. But Thomas was never afraid to question and he was never afraid of the answer.
From the beginning Thomas had represented the voice of critical reason in this credulous bunch of dreamers. When Jesus foolishly insisted on going back to Judea to be with the family of his friend Lazarus, who had just died, Thomas tried to talk him out of it. And with pretty good reason. The last time Jesus had been in Judea, the people tried to stone Him. Thomas must have wondered, how could Jesus be so perceptive in so many ways, and still walk into an open trap? When it became clear that Jesus was determined to go, Thomas decided to go along, but he was politically savvy enough to fear the worst. "Well, all right, let's go along," he said to the other disciples, "so that we may die with Him." (John 11:16) Thomas was loyal, but he had his eyes open.
During the Last Supper, Jesus tried to reassure His disciples when He spoke those famous words, "I go to prepare a place for you. . . . And you know the way where I am going." (John 14:4) Thomas wanted to believe, but this sounded like a lot of wispy cloud talk.
Now, we've had a lot of time to think about what those words of Jesus meant. But for us to put ourselves into the characters of the story - for this to be plausible, somebody has to ask the hard questions. And Thomas, in effect, blurts out, "Look Jesus, we don't even know where You are going! How can we know the way?!" (John 14:5)
I don't know about you, but I can follow the crowd pretty blindly - until it's going to cost me something I don't want to give up. And then I will speak up quite loudly.
In many ways, Thomas is me all over. Cautious, questioning, and a little bit cynical. Characteristics, most of the time, I appreciate in others and characteristics about myself about which I feel pretty good.
The other disciples were exasperatingly accepting of everything that Jesus said. Make no mistake, Thomas loved them, and he thought the cause was a good one: Jesus was the kind of visionary leader that Israel needed. But still, there was always the danger of crossing the thin line that separates faith from fanaticism. Someone had to ask difficult questions.
Anyway, when the dream crashed, Thomas was prudent enough to head for cover. Thomas even missed the Easter celebration. (John 20:24) The other disciples had gathered for a hush-hush conference, but Thomas missed it. Perhaps he was exercising a prudent caution. After all, in the days when Rome ruled with a heavy hand, even a closed-door meeting might be risky for the followers of a leader just executed for treason.
Only after it became apparent that the authorities were satisfied, that Jesus really was dead; then Thomas cautiously emerged from hiding. It was a week after Easter. And when he talked to the disciples perhaps what Thomas heard was more than he could swallow. Could it be a hoax, some impostor claiming to be Jesus? Or maybe mass hysteria of some kind. But Thomas was not about to get caught in this fantasy. It was as if he were saying, "Come on guys, it's all very well for you to use metaphors to describe your religious experience, but unless I thrust my finger into the mark of the nails in His hands, and unless I thrust my hand into His side, there is no way I'll ever believe." (verse 25)
And just then Jesus shows up and says, "OK, Thomas, let your fingers do the walking!" - or words to that effect. As is often is the case, the Greek words are more vivid than the English translations allow: "Bring you finger here and see My hands, and bring your hand and thrust it into My side, and stop being faithless - instead, be faithful." (verse 27) The bluff is called, and Thomas' posture of critical detachment collapses.
But did you ever notice that Thomas didn't take Jesus up on the invitation to insert his hands into Jesus' body? His proposed experiment to finger the evidence, falls away. The disciple known as Doubting Thomas could only stammer a confession, "My Lord and My God." (verse 28)
But we know that story already. What we have not always seen clearly is that this story is not just a portrait of the movement from unbelief to belief. It is also a commissioning story, and by that I mean it is a story that gives Jesus followers - pssssst, that's you and me - some marching orders. It's taken me a while to get here, but I have three commissioning points.
1.) The first commissioning point is one of persistence. It should be noted how persistent the Lord was (with the disciples help) to get Thomas back into the fold. Remember Thomas wasn't there for the first resurrection appearances. But he was there a week later, and it didn't happen exactly by chance.
Martin Marty, legendary American Church historian, who writes regularly for Christian Century, recalls a summer day of his boyhood when one of those grand miracles of childhood occurred. A watermelon truck overturned right in front of his house, and if there was any treat in Martin Marty's childhood years it was to have watermelon.
The uninjured driver jumped out to watch hopelessly as scores of neighborhood children from everywhere raced to the scene of that blessed event and dove into the spilled cargo for a sticky picnic right on the pavement. Right in front of his house!
That was the good news! The bad news was that Martin Marty was out of town that day visiting his grandmother.
Alas. Life is like that sometimes. We are where the action isn't. While the kids are there to catch the bouncing watermelons, we are miles away.
Thomas wasn't there at the first Easter, and then when he heard the story he said he wouldn't believe it until he could see prime evidence. And do you know what? Eight days later, the watermelon truck turned over again - and this time Thomas was there, and all he could mumble was, "My Lord and my God."
From this we get a glimpse of how patient the Lord is with those that need extra convincing. But we also see the critical role of the disciples in making sure that Thomas was there the second time.
Think about the Thomas story. Which of the characters of this drama are we as we gather today, the second Sunday in Easter? Are we the 10 disciples who saw the resurrection on the first day, or are we the ones that heard the story last week, but remain unconvinced and don't bother to show up a week later? (This is one of those "raise your hands if you're not here" kind of questions!) Of course, we're the disciples who show up! But what do we do for the doubters, the skeptics? What have we done for the ones who were here last week - the ones we haven't seen before, or for a long time? The original 10 disciples saw to it that Thomas was present the next week. Persistence, follow-up - that is one part of God's commissioning us as modern day disciples.
2.) The second commissioning point is that the Lord we confess and serve is the crucified God. Did you ever wonder that God could raise Jesus from the dead, but that God did not heal the nail wounds in His hands?
Was it an oversight? Surely not. The power of death is conquered but the wounds remain. When Jesus first appeared to the disciples, when Thomas wasn't there, "[Jesus] showed them his hands and His side." Why? Nobody requested that. It is as if Jesus were saying, "here is My signature." Thomas' instinct was right in demanding to see the marks of the nails and the spear. He didn't say, "Unless I can see the halo, I'll never believe." Richard Hays writes, "Thomas understood that the Christ of faith must be the Jesus Who was crucified, dead and buried. Anything else, anything less, would trivialize the struggle, trivialize the power of evil in the world, and trivialize the resurrection. The power of death is conquered - the wounds remain."
And that is how it is with us. One of my favorite stories in the Old Testament is the story of Jacob wrestling with the angel. All night long Jacob wrestles, apparently to a standoff. In the morning the angel leaves - could it be God? - but only after leaving Jacob with two things: one, a new name; and that name is Israel. The second is that Jacob, or Israel, was wounded in the thigh from the nightlong battle, and will always have a limp as a memory of this event.
About three years ago, when it was apparent Pope John Paul II was being ravaged by Parkinson's and suffering greatly, some suggested that he resign. He responded by talking about that suffering is part of the human condition, and that his ministry could be more complete if he could not only endure the suffering but also became a model of how suffering can fulfill us.
That's what happens when we struggle with the Lord. The struggle is always mighty, for it is always with a struggle with how we are to live out our call to be a free people. And yet while the struggle is exhausting, and when we are able to prevail; we, like Jacob; . . . we, like the disciples; always come away with something significant, something life giving and life-changing. Jacob takes on a new identity, but the wounds remain. Jesus becomes the Christ and makes new life possible, but the holes in His hands from the nails and the hole in His side are still there. And the disciples, even Thomas, are forever changed, and now thoroughly committed to spread the story of Christ to all the world.
3.) The third commissioning point is that we have all received a mark from Jesus the Christ. And quite a marking it is. Baptism is called a seal. It is a mark that God has chosen us to be one of God's own. While I was in Israel in 1993 at the Baptismal site along the Jordan River we had a service to renew our Baptismal vows. I was asked to speak there. I spoke about Martin Luther, the great reformer of the 16th century, who would, in the midst of his struggles with the church, each morning, touch his forehead and say, "Martin, remember the seal of your Baptism." Can you imagine the limping Martin Luther would have to do, taking on the entire church of his time because he felt it was unfaithful and not serving all of God's people. Death indeed, was conquered, but the wounds remain.
I don't know what your wounds are. I don't know what your battles with God have been. Maybe you have been a Thomas, doubting and skeptical. Maybe you will be caught, as many Christians across the globe are, in a political situation where you have to be the confessing church witnessing justice in the face of injustice.
And I don't know what will happen in your life - where you will know that you have wrestled with God. But when it happens you will be blessed, receive the gift of new life; and like Thomas be able to say, "My Lord, my God" . . . But because of your struggle you will never forget the memory of your wounds.
The resurrection didn't change the world, it only changed the focus. The resurrection doesn't take away our wounds, it only allows us to overcome them. We are still sinners. And thank God, we are forgiven sinners. And because of that, it no longer is a question of what the world was coming to, but rather now the question is, "what has come to your world?"