I have been waiting literally for years to be able to preach on this Gospel lesson. I am a big fan of John, particularly the beautifully poetic opening of his Gospel. In many ways, John is short changed by contemporary interpretations of his writing. Most of us are riveted by his mystical language, with its images of angels, doves, the breath of Jesus - to name just a few. The style and tone of John’s writing often allow readers to see him only as a mystic, but he is much more than that.
Put in today’s language, John is writing a sales pitch – and a very effective one at that. John clearly says that he is writing this so that we may believe because we have not seen, nor experienced, the actual ministry of Jesus. Most theologians feel that the Gospel was initially intended to end at the chapter from which today’s gospel is taken. John says in Chapter 20, Verse 30, “Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the son of God, and that you may have life in his name.”
However, it is the character of Thomas that I find so engaging.
While I was training to be a priest at Cranmer Hall in England, we were told that all good sermons must make three important points. Well, today I’m going to deviate from that dictum and make only two simple points. These points are about faith and doubt. Clearly, there is a part of me that I find in Thomas, whose faith has to be supported by physical evidence.
I was nurtured in the Anglo-Catholic tradition, which has a lot to say about faith –not much about doubt –, but a great shipload about faith. One of the clichés of Anglo-Catholic piety is the following term – a gift of faith. Some lucky Christians are felt to have been blessed with a gift of faith – unfortunately, I have never felt so blessed as you will see. The only two people who come to my mind when this term is bandied about are my grandmother and the late Archbishop of Canterbury, Lord Michael Ramsay who was my spiritual director while I was training.
My grandmother was a rather severe Swiss farmer’s wife who held an unshakeable and profound faith in Christ’s healing ministry and the Roman Catholic Church. From birth in a small mountain village in the Swiss-Italian Alps to the empty farmlands of central California in the late 19th century, Giovanna travelled through life with the assurance of god’s unconditional love.
It was this faith that allowed her to venture beyond her safe village life to an arranged marriage with an older Swiss farmer in California. This necessitated 3rd class travel on a steamship, the indignities of Ellis Island, and then an exhausting rail trip to San Francisco.
I only knew her as an old woman, her rosary a constant companion, who attempted to explain how painful it was for her to see her grandsons raised as Protestants. For her the church – with both a small c and a large C – began and ended with the mediation of the Pope. Even as a boy, I didn’t buy into this, but I was impressed by her assurance of Christ’s love in her challenging life – this was her gift of faith – an unquestionably elemental understanding of God’s care for her and his creation.
As I have said, I admired her gift, but from an early age it was clear that I didn’t share it in the same manner. I had early identified with Thomas.
John makes it clear in his Gospel that the Disciples have a variable and varying gift of faith. At times, they are like my Swiss grandmother and at other times they are more like me – rather questioning and untrustworthy. In Chapter 13, Verse 38, Jesus says to the overeager Peter, “Will you lay down your life for me? Truly, truly, I say to you, the cock will not crow, till you have denied me three times.” And, remember he is saying this to someone who has seen and experienced the actual ministry of Jesus. And, of course, we know that this will come to be.
So…how many of us have a gift of faith? We may be like the mercurial Peter - desiring to faithfulness but finding ourselves sometimes falling short.
This leads us to my second point about doubt. On the day of resurrection the Disciples are so full of doubt, hopelessness, and feelings of abandonment that they actually lock themselves in a room. So, we are not in such bad company if we experience times of doubt in our Christian journey. For myself, these times are ruled over by my intellect, which can be a cruel taskmaster at times. Most of us value rationality, education, logic, etc. and it is those gifts that can lead us to dark places of doubt.
And…I don’t feel this is a bad thing. While I might envy Christians like my grandmother or Lord Ramsay who embody for me a simple, elemental assurance of God’s love, that is not my road – not the road for many others who travel with me.
However, it is here that I want to point out the irony in my discussion of doubt. It is these times of questioning that have rooted and secured my faith. In fact, I have come to believe with certainty that for many of us doubt is the integral element of faith. Christians like myself often struggle with what is called The Dark Night of the Soul.
This is what St. John of the Cross describes as the struggle and the soul’s journey from the distractions and entanglements of the world towards the perfect peace and harmony of union with God.
The dark night is not pleasant, but for many it allows one to approach nearer to God and His love. The irony is that this process that leads one away from an understanding and acceptance of god’s love is the very process that makes my commitment to the Christian life deepen and flourish.
The means by which questioning and doubt are ameliorated are clearly stated in John’s gospel. Last week in his Easter sermon, Father Gill pointed out how difficult it is for us as human being to accept underserved outpourings of God’s love – counter-intuitive gifts from the universe that make us uneasy and fill us with questions until we are able to relax into the pleasure of the gift.
John loads his Gospel with assurances that those who have not witnessed Christ’s ministry will be given the means to believe through the ministry of fellow Christians. Christ promises that his prayers are not only for the apostles, “but also for those who believe in me through their work, that they may all be one.”
Times of doubt bring us like, Thomas, to Christ asking for assurance…and perhaps forgiveness for our lack of surety. What does Christ do in this situation? Well, in the Gospel, Christ forgives and reassures…a central theme of what I’ve called the sales pitch in this Gospel. Rather than being punished, the Disciples are reminded that they, like us, will witness to the good news of Jesus’ ministry here on earth. In a real sense, doubt is rewarded by assurance…counterintuitive but a model of the message of the cross.
Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, says, “There is no hope of understanding the Resurrection outside the process of renewing humanity in forgiveness. We are all agreed that the empty tomb proves nothing. We need to add that no amount of apparitions, however well authenticated, would mean anything either, apart from the testimony of forgiven lives communicating forgiveness.”
I particularly like the phrase “forgiven lives”…like the Disciples we are forgiven and renewed in our struggles with doubt. Within the context of our doubt we begin to gain a foothold on the gift of faith…the assurance of the reign of Christ in our lives.
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