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SERMON
Last week we reflected on some words of wisdom drawn from a pastoral
letter written by Peter near the end of his life. I suggested then that
we do well to pay attention to seasoned veterans who speak out of a
lifetime of discipleship. Not only can they teach us valuable lessons on
faith. Often in the process we learn important things about ourselves. I
want to continue that process today. But this time I want us to consider
three incidents in the life of another of Jesus' disciples a man named
Thomas. His friends nicknamed him Didymus. Most of us, however, know him
by another nickname. We call him "Doubting Thomas."
To me, that adjective, "Doubting" (which has become almost a proper
name) is both misleading and unfair. What defines Thomas' character far
more than his doubt was his candor. There are three incidents that bear
this out, and each incident can teach us a valuable lesson about candor:
lessons about comfort and clarity and conviction.
1. The first lesson Thomas teaches us is that there
is comfort in candor. At the end of John 10, Jesus and his
disciples had suddenly left Jerusalem to go to Galilee. Their abrupt
exit happened when Jesus had publicly claimed to be one with God. His
alleged blasphemy had so infuriated the religious leaders in Jerusalem
that they wanted him dead. So Jesus promptly retreated to their home
territory in Galilee. To return to the city at that time would have been
suicidal.
But then came the news that Jesus' dear friend Lazarus had died. His
sisters, Mary and Martha, were grieving and alone. So the Lord decided
to return, despite the obvious danger. And when Jesus told his disciples
that it was time to go back, what did Thomas say? He didn't say,
"Lord, I doubt that such a decision would be in the best interest
of our general health and well-being." He didn't say, "Master, I
question your judgment let alone your sense of timing." No,
his immediate and candid response in 11:16 was, "Let's go, too, so we
can die with him."
Now, Thomas wasn't blessed with unusual insight there. I'm sure the
others saw exactly what he saw. But Thomas, you'll notice was the only
one who was candid enough to admit it out loud. And it's not that Thomas
was being particularly heroic, either. He was simply being realistic
candid. But by his example he teaches us something about the comfort to
be found in candor. There is a certain comfort a particular quality of
inner strength we find when we face the worst realistically.
For Thomas, the world was what it was, not what he might wish it to be.
He may have dearly wanted it to be better or other than it was, but he
knew that wishing wouldn't make it so. The comfort in candor is that it
has already faced up to the worst that could happen. Granted, that's not
always easy. Sometimes we're sorely tempted to avoid reality. We put off
going to see the doctor because we know that, if we go, our worst fears
might be confirmed. Of course, in the end we know it's healthier to face
reality than to avoid it, because having faced it, we can then deal with
it.
That's how ordinary people deal with illness and bereavement and failure
every day often with extraordinary courage and serenity. There is
comfort in candor because it's willing to face the truth, no matter how
hard it is. And having faced it, there is little left of which to be
afraid or anxious. Thomas, like the others, saw the danger in the Lord's
invitation. But it is to his everlasting credit that, unlike the others,
he was willing to call it by name, and then face it.
What is the worst thing facing you right now? Are you willing to
confront it candidly and call it by its proper name? Do that, Thomas
teaches us, and you will discover a comfort, a kind of inner strength
that you will find no other way.
2. There's comfort in candor. Thomas also reminds us that
there is clarity in candor. It happened at the Passover
meal that turned out to be our Lord's last supper before his death. In
John 14 Jesus told the twelve that he would be leaving them soon. Then
he added these reassuring words, "You know the way to the place were
I am going."
None of the disciples said anything that is, none except Thomas. He
spoke up. In 14:5 he said, "Lord, we don't know where you are
going, so how can we know the way?" Thomas wasn't slower than the
others to understand. The remarkable thing about Thomas is that, here
again, he was far quicker than the others to acknowledge his confusion
and ask for help. There is something refreshingly childlike about his
directness. It was honest, guileless, what the New Testament calls "pure
in heart." And his candor proved to be immensely helpful not only to
himself and the others, but to all of us who have followed in the Way.
Anyone who has ever been in a classroom or seminar knows just how
valuable a "Thomas" is. At the end of the presentation the teacher says,
"Now, is that clear to all of you? Do I need to go over anything
again?" (silence) You, along with fifty percent of the class, may
not have a clue. But we're all living examples of the adage that it is
better to keep your mouth shut and let others think you're stupid, than
open it and remove all doubt.
Just then, to your consummate relief, someone else says, "I don't
understand. Would you please go over it once more?" Meanwhile you
are thinking, "This is the best of all possible worlds!" You can
pretend to understand, and yet have your ignorance instructed at the
same time.
Thomas was candid enough to admit his ignorance, and he shows us by
example that one of the great benefits of candor is clarity. It was
because Thomas was willing to speak while the others were catatonic that
Jesus clarified his intent with one of the most sublime descriptions of
the way in which God, in Christ, has answered our deepest need for
fellowship with him. "Thomas," Jesus said, "I am the
way and the truth and the life." I am so grateful for Thomas's
candor that night.
Let me ask you this: Do you know the direction your life is headed right
now? Do you know what is true what has always been and always will be
true? Do you know life in all its fullness personally? Do you? If your
answer to any of those questions is, "I don't know," would you dare to
show your ignorance? Thomas teaches us that when we're willing to be
candid about what we don't know, we become uniquely teachable. And in
the long run, being teachable is one of our most valuable assets,
because it helps to make things clear.
3. There is comfort to be found in candor. Another benefit
of candor is clarity. There's one more thing Thomas teaches us by
example. One of the blessings of candor is conviction.
After the death and burial of Jesus his disciples were distraught,
utterly at a loss. Then the impossible happened. The risen Lord Jesus
came to them, and his appearance was both compelling and undeniably
real. That is, real to everyone except Thomas. He wasn't there at the
time.
And how did Thomas greet their announcement when the others told him
excitedly that Jesus was alive again? True to his nature, he told them
that he would not believe it until he had seen it for himself. It wasn't
so much that he refused to believe the evidence or question the others'
honesty. It was just that he couldn't believe. And his unbelief, rather
than being an expression of perversity, was evidence of his integrity.
He was simply being true to his character.
Think about it. It would have been totally unbelievable, in fact really
quite preposterous, for Thomas at that moment to break character and
said, "Oh well, of course he's alive. I should have known it would
happen. I don't question it in the least. If you men say that our dead
and buried leader is now alive and walking around, that's good enough
for me. Praise the Lord!"
No. Thomas said, "I can't buy it! I'm sorry, but I have to see him
for myself." And his candid response, perhaps more than that of
anyone else, is compelling evidence of the reliability of the record.
There was no collusion no "Let's get our stories straight." Thomas saw
to that.
And how did the other disciples respond to him? Did they react
defensively, criticizing Thomas for not taking them at their word,
accusing him of doubting their integrity? Did they react democratically,
saying, "Sorry Thomas, but the vote is ten to one. You lose. Now pull
yourself together and get with the program!"
No, there was none of that. It is to their everlasting credit that the
record shows no defensiveness, no accusations, no high-powered or even
low-powered persuasion or coercion. They knew the man, and they loved
Thomas the way he was just as Jesus had loved him. (The Lord had
taught them well by his own blessed example.) They had their own
compelling reasons for believing in the resurrection. But they were
willing to be patient with him. They would wait for Thomas to learn in
his own way what he needed to learn and all in the Lord's good time.
One week later our Lord granted Thomas a special audience. And when
Jesus appeared to him, Thomas not only saw and touched and believed, he
expressed his conviction as candidly as he had declared his unbelief.
You'll notice that, again, it was Thomas who was able to say candidly
what the others had not yet dared to confess. On meeting the risen Lord,
Thomas didn't say, "Now I know beyond any doubt that the doctrine of
the resurrection is true." He didn't even say, "Once I didn't
think it possible, but now I believe that dead people can live again."
or, "I'll admit that there was a time when I questioned the extent of
your power, Jesus, but now you have proven me wrong." No, he simply
fell to his knees and candidly confessed, "My Lord and my God."
I am so grateful that Jesus called that particular man, Thomas, to be
one of his first ambassadors. It's clear to me that Jesus knew the
immense value of those who are willing to follow him; but who,
nevertheless, are willing to face the hard realities and ask the hard
questions and not be content with a second-hand faith.
I say that because there are many people in this world (some here today)
for whom the answers don't seem to come easily. They are those for whom
life seems to be more a series of skirmishes and battles than one grand,
victorious campaign. And they're too honest and too candid to pretend it
to be otherwise. For such as these, Thomas (not Doubting Thomas but
Candid Thomas) can be a source of untold encouragement. He reminds us
that there is comfort and clarity and conviction to be found in candor.
And here's a blessed footnote. If our forebears in the faith are correct
(as I suspect they are) in identifying certain men and women as patron
saints, then St. Thomas not only encourages us by his example. He knows
that we sometimes struggle just as he did. Yet we, too, want to believe
(just as he did) with all our hearts. And knowing that, he prays for us
candidly. Perhaps that is why we, with the heart of Thomas, are
willing to pray candidly, as Christians: "Lord, I want to be a
Christian in my heart."
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