From doubt to Easter faith Easter 2

Luke 20: 19 - 31

Happy Easter!

I don’t think too many of you are convinced. You may well be thinking that I have my dates mixed up. Surely even a preacher who comes from Cornwall would know that Easter has come and gone.

But, I am not sure that I am wrong. To Christians, every Sunday is an Easter Day in which we celebrate that Christ is raised from the dead and is a living Lord. After all, surely that is why we gather on Sundays as the people of God.

But of course, this Sunday is often referred to as Low Sunday. The excitement of last week - when re responded to the good news that “Christ is risen” with a thunderous, “He is risen indeed!” - all seems so far away. In a sense, we may feel that the world is as it was before and nothing has changed.

Still before we go on a Guilt Trip, I want to put it to you that we are in good company if that is how we feel. You see, those disciples who were closest to Jesus are not what we would call a shining example. Oh, I know that we have those great stories of how the women had gone to the tomb and there has their world transformed. But it was not quite the same for that motley group of men whom we remember as “The Disciples.” Look at Luke’s Gospel and we find that their immediate response to the message that Christ was alive, was to dismiss it as “an idle tale.”

And things are not that much better later in the day when they meet face to face the risen Christ. Despite the witness of the women, their immediate reaction according to Luke’s Gospel was that they were seeing ghost. It is ultimately only through both hearing him and seeing him that their hearts began to fill with joy.

Now on this occasion, we learn from John’s Gospel that they were one person short. Thomas was for some reason or other absent. And like the other disciples, he feels a need to have physical proof of the resurrection before he can believe. Now, all of this has caused him to go down in the annals of history as Doubting Thomas. But before we castigate Thomas too strongly, we need to arrive at a balanced understanding of this man. Not only was his need to be convinced in line with that of the other disciples, but this was a man who felt deeply his loyalty to Jesus. After all in the narrative of Jesus going to Bethany to restore the life of Lazarus, Thomas possibly as a man who sees a glass half empty rather than half full, is overcome by foreboding that Jesus is on the path to death. But whilst his foreboding reminds be of Godfrey in Dad’s Army who forever warned that all were doomed, it brings out something heroic in Thomas who turns to his fellow disciples and says;

“Let us also go, that we may die with him.”

I hope you get the picture. This Thomas is a man who is deeply devoted to Jesus. On Good Friday, his world has fallen in. His hopes have been smashed to smithereens. No wonder, he finds it hard to take the risk of daring to believe again. Hurt so deeply once, he is not a man in a hurry to carelessly embrace good news. After all, how would he recover if he turned out to have got it wrong. A future of heartbreak with all around him pointing at his gullibility, would hardly be a prospect to delight him.

But for a moment, let’s just pause to consider the matter of doubt. I guess that many of us have experienced something of the “dark night of the soul.” As one who has a deeply pessimistic depressive streak, I have on occasions been there. Never more so than when a quarter of a century ago, my father had to undergo two operations for cancer. I needed to know if what I had before that believed with some comfort, was true. Was I deluded? It was a painful period, make no mistake. But what was happening to my family and all our lives, was of such magnitude that a faith which could not connect with such matters, could only be escapism, utterly useless!

On that occasion, although I am not sure it has always been the case, a time of struggling with doubt became ultimately a fruitful experience. For me there was some truth in the observation of one nineteenth century writer who observed;

“Doubt is the vestibule through which all must pass before they can enter into the temple of wisdom.”

Now, I know from experience of people of faith who seem to have rarely been troubled with doubt. Good for them! However, I ask you this morning to also appreciate that for some of us faith has been forged in the very struggle with doubts.

But what is healthy doubt? We have all met people who wallow in doubt and never move beyond it. Such doubt is paralysing to the individual. But the doubt which we find exhibited by Thomas is very different. This is the healthy doubt which seeks to find answers and is prepared to move on when those answers are found. And boy does Thomas move on. For as he meets with the risen Christ, the need to see and touch cease to matter. Thomas has his answers. He knows the truth of the Resurrection and through it he sees the significance of Jesus more profoundly than any of his colleagues. For this Thomas whom we have fossilised as a Mavis Riley type figure of twittering doubts, brings the Gospel narratives to a great climax as he speaks those words that have resounded down through two millennia;

“ My Lord and my God.”

Now we see that this is far from being a man of indecision. For these words tells us that Jesus is not simply a great teacher or example although he is these things. He is more than that. He stands revealed as the Godman, the one who is as truly Divine as he is human. And as Lord, this Jesus stands before us with a mighty claim upon our lives and our world. For as the Kingship of Roman Emperors will dissolve with a few centuries, here is a Lordship for all eternity.

But that Lordship is so very different to what the world has known before. On Palm Sunday, we recalled the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, riding on a donkey. Such was a symbol that he came to that city on a message of peace. And in the appearances of which we have heard this morning, peace is still at the heart of his coming. That peace is God’s will for nations. It is also God’s will for troubled hearts. It is the peace that will enable us to cope through the most difficult of storms, that which we talk of as the peace which passeth understanding.

How can it be explained. It is like a story of two painters who were invited to paint pictures illustrating peace. One painted a picture of an idyllic evening scene with lakes, trees, cattle and a little cottage. With a setting sun, it spoke of perfect tranquillity.

The second painter produced a stormy scene with heavy black clouds and a ferocious waterfall pouring out great volumes of foam. But amidst the dark oppressive conditions could be found a small bird perched in a cleft of a huge rock, sheltered from all danger singing its song.

And it is that latter picture which reflected what Christ meant by peace. For make no mistake about it, Christ does not offer us an exemption from the storms of life. But what he does offer is his living presence to enable us confidently sail the stormy sees.

You see, we come to the Risen Christ in a manner of different ways. As diverse people, we come through diverse journeys. Ultimately the story of Thomas reminds us that we like him are invited into God’s dance of life. He offers us peace. He still breathes his life upon us. And so today, by like Thomas being in his presence, we too can be set free from fear and enabled to share in his Resurrection life. And from the story of Thomas, we can see that the presence of the risen Christ is for even we who have not seen or touched.

Back at the end of the Second World War, allied soldiers found in a house in which Jews had been hidden, written on the walls of a cellar;

“I believe,
I believe in the sun even when it is not shining.
I believe in love even when feeling it not.
I believe in God even when God is silent.”

Though we may doubt for a season, may we be open to the good news that Christ is alive even at the times when such belief is hardest to sustain.


This sermon is being preached at Appledore and Alwington Methodist Churches on April 15th 2007