We’re All Thomases on this Ball of Dirt
It is so easy to get labeled when you appear in a memorable moment in the Holy Scriptures: Judas the betrayer, Peter the denier, Jonah the fugitive prophet, Job the victim, John, the favorite of the Lord, and, of course, doubting Thomas. This redoubtable doubter, regardless of his famously chronicled declaration of disbelief, was not the only one of the disciplic dozen whose faith gauge was setting on “E”. Jesus on more than one occasion referred to his ragtag band of hand-picked hangers-on as “little faiths”, thereby characterizing them as certainly uncertain as the apostle so branded.
Poor Tom. Excluding the apostolic roll calls, he made only three cameos, all in the Gospel of St. John. In the first appearance, he exhorted his fellows to “go to die with him.”1 It’s not clear whether the “him” he refers to is the late Lazarus (who Jesus just pronounced dead from a distance) or the soon-to-be-crucified Son of Man. Naturally, one might tend to lean toward the former view, since the latter would indicate more understanding of the Lord’s mission than any apostle had hitherto demonstrated scripturally.
Awhile later our Doubter wasn’t afraid to let Rabbi J know that he was clueless about “the way,” as in, “Where [I] am going you know the way.”2 Jesus comforted him in his maplessness by indicating, “I am the way and the truth and the life.”3 Thus metaphysically reoriented, Thomas said no more.
And virtually everyone who has dipped their big toe in the Gospel stream knows about Thomas’ post-resurrection starring performance as chief unbeliever of the doubting dozen minus one. His name has become the byword for those of us who don’t buy whatever is being sold sight unseen. But is this deserved disdain, or are we being a little hard on the one who wasn’t afraid to declare what he didn’t believe?
How about these other guys who didn’t get to be the answer to the crossword puzzle clue: “Doubting apostle”? According to Mark, not only did they not believe Mary Magdalene who had seen the resurrected Jesus, they also did not believe two unnamed disciples who saw Him on their way to the country, and all eleven were roundly rebuked for it later by He who arose. In response to the ladies who had been given the resurrection update from an angel at the tomb, Luke relates that to the apostles “their story seemed like nonsense and they did not believe them.”4 But Peter did eventually go to the tomb and was amazed at the angel-less emptiness.
Maybe the Johannine rule is three doubts and you’re out, because after having not believed the womanly sightings, and shaking his head with the others over the hikers’ encounter with the Man, our naysayer then refuses to believe the other ten apostles who entertained the risen Lord while Thomas was out and about. It seems the last unbeliever standing gets the nickname.
Everyone knows the finale. Thomas sees the Lord, sees the wounds, and then sees his own folly as he declares, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus gives us present day doubt wrestlers the nod when He ends the episode with “Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”5
So why recount all this? Is it just so I can feel real good about what few mustard seeds of faith I have accumulated without touching, seeing, and hanging out with the Second Person? In a life that at times seems devoid of your resurrections and miraculous healings, can I be relieved that I am not a Thomas, at least not at the moment that I’m typing this?
Jesus isn’t relating anything new here, it is a repeat of what He previously taught. In the tale of the rich man and Lazarus6, we have a poor man christened with the same name as the man Jesus resurrected in Bethany. Our other cast member had to walk by, over, or around our afflicted pauper who was lying outside the entrance to the tycoon’s palatial estate. Mr. Moneybags never offered any aid or relief for the supine Lazarus, though I suppose we can cut him a break for not having the authorities sweep up the poor beggar before he was remains.
Much later, posthumously, while Mr. L was relaxing with Daddy Abraham in heaven, and our former person of means was parched in the hot place, the anonymous miser begged for relief: a little bit of H2O on the tongue. When that request was nixed, he asked that his former human doormat be sent to his still alive and kickin’ family so that they might avoid the eternal smell of sulfur in the next life. Abe also turned thumbs down on this, saying, “If they will not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded if someone should rise from the dead.”
Having made a short story long, I have, at last, come to the point. The apostles saw all manner of miracles: healings, exorcisms, raisings from the dead. In spite of being side by side with the one directing these supernatural events, still they doubted. The Israelites beheld the plagues, ambled through the Red Sea dry-shod, and witnessed the destruction of Pharoah’s elite shock troops. Still, they did not believe and made their own golden bovine god.
Having faith in God isn’t about touching or seeing or being a witness to supernatural events. It’s all about a relationship which began when the Creator decided to make me. Or should I say desired to make me. I am because I AM wanted me to be. Isn’t that the seed of every intimate relationship—to know one is wanted, valued, cared for, by another?
Perhaps, this is why Jesus declared to a worshipful Thomas and his 10 bystanding brothers that we are blessed without being wound inspectors. Our faith, hope, and love comes from accepting the grace of the one who set the universe in motion, and who is intimately involved in every moment we live.
The Father of all is not a Johnny Appleseed kind of creator, mindlessly sowing the world with human seeds and having no more regard for the individual pips than our legendary planter did. Our Source has a place and a plan for each one of his trees, and He wants us to bear fruit that will perpetuate the love that motivated Him to plant us here and now.
Dear Lord, may I be known by the good fruit I produce, and please help me to prune from my limbs that which is unproductive and counterproductive. May I provide shade in the summer, fruit in the fall, and hope in the winter as I endure the dark and cold times in anticipation of your spring resurrection.
1 John 11:16 NABRE
2 John 14:4 NABRE
3 John 14:6 NABRE
4 Luke 24:11 NABRE
5 John 20:24-29 NABRE
6 Luke 16:19-31 NABRE
