Dinner was awfully different tonight. The food was the same: lamb, flatbread, cucumbers, olives. But, what a strange occurrence.
We were in the main room of the house. The table had been laid out as always. All of us in our usual seats. For fear of someone wandering in, we had the doors locked. Still not sure what the authorities—Jewish or Roman—are thinking about us.
As we talked about the events of the last few days, and wondering if the stories of our friends having seen Jesus were really true, Thomas made the most outrageous statement.
“I’ll believe it when I see it. When I can push my finger through the holes in his hands and feet, and can shove my hand into his side, then—and only then—will I believe it.”
Well, finally, someone said what most of us were thinking.
And, then, Jesus showed up. In the room. With us. Door was still locked—I checked it myself. But, there stood Jesus.
“Hey, Thomas,” he said. “Come over here, put your hand here.” He pulled back his robe to reveal the spot where they had shoved the spear into His side.
Thomas did, and then let out a holler unlike any I’d ever heard.
“Really, guys, it’s HIM!”
Aren’t we all a bit like Thomas?
Others had seen Jesus. The women, some of the men, Cleopas and his friend had seen Jesus. Eyewitnesses to the resurrection. Yet, Thomas isn’t so sure.
Maybe it was a vision. Maybe a dream. Maybe a hallucination. But, actually Jesus? Not sure.
He challenges the others. Maybe they’re even growing a bit tired of Thomas’ verbal doubts. And, then, Jesus shows up.
Can you hear the laughter of the others? “See, Thomas, we told you! We told you that He was alive! You didn’t believe us, but I guess you do now!”
But, I can relate to Thomas. At some point in all of our lives, we will doubt. We’ll doubt the trustworthiness of God. We’ll doubt the promises. We’ll stand on the edge of the road, looking at the empty—but blood-stained—cross where our dreams were killed, and there we will doubt. We’ll be forced to admit that our hopes and dreams are dead, and our prayers will go unanswered.
And, then, into the room, walks Jesus. Smiling. Laughing. Comforting. And, gently scolding. Jesus.
In that moment, our doubts are erased. Our fears are calmed. Our hope is restored. The trustworthiness of our God is proved.
Yet, doubt isn’t a good thing. It’s a real thing, but it’s not good. Doubt says that our God isn’t big enough to overcome our problem. To doubt is to deny the goodness and grace of God. It’s to deny the very resurrection. To doubt is to say, “God, You can’t handle this.”
To doubt is to make you the lord of your life. It’s worshiping at the altar of self. It’s idolatry.
So, what do we do?
I’m reminded of the story of the Israelites. Time and time and time and time again throughout the Old Testament, God’s chosen people are given the command: “REMEMBER.” Read the books of Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy and count the number of times this command is given. Read the Psalms and see how often remembering is a part of the worship of the Israelite people. Read the Proverbs and see the wisdom in remembering.
This command isn’t meant to be taken in a philosophical, “Yep, God is good all the time” kind of way. It’s a command to write down what God has done for you. It’s a command to write them down. To recite them to your family. To teach them to your children. To talk about them on your way to school and work and church and Wal-Mart. To listen as your children recite them back to you.
“Hey, Dad, remember that time that God…”
Remembering only works when you are an active participant in the process of remembering. You have to say it out loud. You have to repeat it. You have to write the story. You have to tweet the good news.
You have to be aware of the miracle. Don’t write things off to coincidence. Quit calling it fate. Stop ignoring the miracle within the mundane. God is working. He is moving. He cares about the big things and the little things.
A couple of years ago, we were in Colorado Springs doing our Discipleship Training School with Youth With A Mission. One particular Tuesday, I was craving a hamburger. I could almost taste the meat and the cheese and the mustard and the pickle. I remember driving my friends crazy because I kept talking about how good a hamburger would taste. The next day at lunch, we had hamburgers. Now, I had no idea what was on the menu. I just knew that the day before I told God that hamburgers sounded really good. I could call that a coincidence. But, to do so would be to assume that God doesn’t care about hamburgers, and He doesn’t care about me. So, to this day, we talk about the day that God cared enough to provide hamburgers. And, friends, these weren’t just frozen patties. These were hand-crafted, flame-broiled, with bacon, thick and juicy hamburgers.
Because, God cares about my wanting hamburgers, and He cares about Thomas’ doubts. He cares enough to provide hamburgers, so I can trust Him with things like airfare, and my kid’s health, and beds to sleep in.
And, so, we remember. We write it down. We talk about it. We rehearse it. We tell each other the story. And, we remember the goodness of God.
Thomas, we are told from Church tradition, travelled to India. It is believed that he baptized several people in the town of Muziris, India, and served as a missionary to the people of India. He is known as the Patron Saint of India.
Thomas’ response to seeing the wounds of Jesus was to proclaim boldly that he was no longer the lord of his life. Instead, he trusted God’s goodness to restore and renew and resurrect. And, he went about the rest of his life proclaiming that message of the Gospel of the Kingdom.
You can read the full story of Jesus revealing Himself to Thomas in John 20:19-29.