Dan Joseph

There are people in this congregation who’s faith and passion is like a tidal wave. It’s impossible not to get caught up in the flow, it makes you want to surf the wave, it’s both stimulating and exhilarating and I’m delighted to know people like that.  It’s one of the reasons why Jesus wants us to be in a church, to focus our lives on the Christian perspective.   Knowing people like that helps us to reflect on the joy having faith can bring. They cheer us up when we are down; they are the ones most likely to remind us about what God wants when we feel challenged. We all know people like this.

But when we hear our reading today and hear the name of one of its central figures, we think of Thomas and the image that comes to mind isn’t one of exuberant faith: it’s one of doubt. Thomas is forever cast as the man who doubted the resurrection; the one who needed to see proof before he would believe it was true.

There are Thomases here with us today.  And I don’t think that’s a bad thing in any way.  Because in exactly the same way as I can feel lifted up and inspired by someone expressing great faith, I can be equally inspired by people who question, people who don’t always accept things at face value.

We had a retreat a couple of years ago and one of the workshops I went to looked at just who wrote the books of the bible; the questioning, reasoning approach of one of my colleagues on the course really did make me sit up and think, it inspired me just as much as any motivational speaker could.

Within each of us, these sides exist.  No-one, however deep their faith is, however certain they may be on a certain issue, is without doubt.  All of us have to balance the things that inform our faith, chiefly our church tradition, the bible and our consciences.

In our reading, the disciples were themselves each feeling a whole range of emotions, fear, doubt and uncertainty, coupled with the possibility that what they’d been told was true. And suddenly Jesus is there with them, sensing their nervousness and telling them ‘peace be with you’

Thomas is the one who needs convincing, he needs to see the wounds before he will accept the truth of what the others have told him. When he does see them, when he touches the scars he can leave behind his doubt and recognises the truth of the astonishing miracle he sees before him.

Our reading ends with Jesus reminding us, blessed are those who have believed without seeing.

Our world is cynical. The election campaign that was launched this week has challenged all of us to think about who can be believed. Many people instinctively think of politicians as not being worthy of our trust, and scandals in public life - like the expenses scandal - do little to change that image.

When we see something advertised as a special deal, we instinctively look for the catch.  We have become a world that will not believe unless it sees.

This is equally true in the way many people approach issues of faith. In a largely secular world, when we think about how to spread the good news of God’s love, each of us faces a hurdle, because at some point in time someone will ask us to prove it.

Thomas, when he doubted, had the opportunity to see the wounds for himself. What do we have to show the doubter, the unbeliever?

Each of us has scars too.  I have a scar underneath my bottom lip where I walked into a swing when I was 4 years old. I have a scar on my left temple where I fell while getting off a train. I have a matching one on my right temple from a night out in Leeds.  Each of our scars has a story to go with it; sometimes it’s an anecdote to keep our friends or work colleagues amused, sometimes it’s a story we only tell those we are truly closest to.  Our scars are not just the superficial cuts to the skin, our scars can be inside - the life experiences which changed us profoundly.

That change doesn’t have to be events beyond our control, sometimes its change that has been sought – change that has been hard fought for.

Each of us know the times in our lives when we have felt a deep spiritual connection, the times when we have been acutely aware of the presence of God in our lives.
These are the moments that change our lives; these are the moments that affect us profoundly.  Whether it's how your faith helped you cope with the loss of a loved one or get through a particularly difficult time at work, or how it helped you prepare for surgery – or the liberating feeling of finally being the right gender after surgery, each of us has these stories.

Each of us has a life of experiences that help define and prove our faith to us.  For some of us that may be a longer book than others, but our lives are full of anecdotes of faith.

We encounter people who are full of doubt and cynicism who, when they realise that we have a faith, will often spend their time knocking organised religion.   Many of the cynical people of this world are like Thomas. They are looking for proof, looking for the scars to prove that something happened, looking for the evidence. Jesus overcame Thomas’s doubt by showing him the evidence; we too can overcome doubt by sharing our stories, showing our scars.

Of course, it’s easier to talk to people about the funny thing they saw on the bus or the video on YouTube than it is to talk to people about what we believe.  But this is the challenge that this reading brings us.  We may have been wounded in the past – but we are healed now.  We may have been jeered by the crowds in the past, but we are among friends now.

Finding the right words to express how we have experienced God in our lives is a challenge for every one of us. Whether we choose to do that like a tidal wave or by choosing which scars to show, there is a world of Thomases out there who need to see the proof - who are wishing they too could fall to their feet and say “My Lord! My God!’

Amen.