Labels & The Second Sunday of Easter, John 20:19-31

Labels are difficult to move past, aren’t they? Maybe it is because of the assumptions and in turn the limitations that follow the labels. When we label, I believe it tends to limit the scope of our vision – we fail to see the whole person, we fail to see potential meanings, we fail to see how God’s imagination might be at work or where it might lead.

Even though this Gospel elsewhere portrays Thomas as devoted to Jesus (11:16) and theologically alert (14:5); even though a non-canonical gospel bears his name, even though tradition has it that Thomas went on a mission to India, because of this text, he has been labeled "Doubting Thomas."

I remember various preachers and their sermons on this text. They all seemed to tag Thomas with this label. This act was discouraging to me as a young person. I, like Thomas, would have liked to be able to put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side. It would have been easier to believe. Such sermons can create incredible guilt in those hearing such a message. “Don't be like Thomas; believe without seeing!” The preachers would say, “it's not like our modern conception of science where we don't believe until it can be seen, until it can be proven. You just have to believe. Don't be like ol' doubting Thomas."

These words can create incredible amounts of guilt on the part of the hearers. They begin to question their faith and even if they are worthy to be in the presence of such a group of believers. More often than not, I suspect that the feelings of guilt turn to feelings of anger directed at those in the congregation. Those labeled as being like ol' doubting Thomas feel they aren't good enough to be included by those in the church. Eventually, they leave or they remain with festering sores. I would guess that there aren't many who wouldn't feel the guilt imposed by such sermons. We all want to portray an image of a faithful Christian. That image is usually one of no questions, no doubts, and no problems. It is a title of great honor. To talk about feelings of doubt is not a possibility where such a label has been declared dishonorable. So we all go about as if nothing has happened. Hoping to be seen as a faithful Christian, even if we feel that we are not.

For those preachers who preach don't be like ol' doubting Thomas, faith is born full blown. Just add water and its done. I believe that is a naive assessment of our relationship with God as reflected in our own lives and the bible. It denies our struggle to live a faithful life; it denies our successes and our failures as Christians. A relationship with God is a journey with a variety of twists and turns in the road. Just consider Job or those to whom Paul wrote as to encourage their faith. In our own lives there are times when that journey is difficult - the loss of a loved one, the loss of a job, conflict in the church, conflict in our families. Sometimes, if we could touch the nail marks with our fingers, it might be easier.

Jesus comes to Thomas and invites him to do just that. He says to him, “See my hands and my feet, touch my side. See, I come among you as one of you.” Seeing is believing in John’s gospel. Jesus wants Thomas to see, and in turn wants us to see. He continues to invite us to see those wounds today. Where is it we see them today? Perhaps, we see them in the victims of terror, among those shut up in prisons and concentration camps, those worn out by ill treatment and torture, those who have been abducted, those who live daily with threats of violence, those who suffer unexpected calamity, those who are excluded and not invited into the community, and wherever we see sin, death, and brokenness. Christ invites us to touch these wounds.

Thomas encounters the wounds of the risen Christ. The wounds are there to touch but something is changed, Jesus is different, and the wounds are different. Because we also encounter the risen Christ, we see these wounds differently. When we touch the wounds of Christ, we realize that sin, death, and brokenness are not the last word. When we reach out to touch Christ’s wounds, we are empowered to do something about the places of those wounds.
Thomas Merton, a monk who lived a while at Gethsemane Monastery near Bardstown, Kentucky, once said, “A true encounter with Christ liberates something in us, a power we did not know we had, a hope, a capacity for life, a resilience, an ability to bounce back when we thought we were completely defeated, a capacity to grow and change, a power of creative transformation” (Citation lost).

Death does not have the last word. God who gives life does!