Nearness of God
For those of you who don’t know, I’m currently in my very last class of my undergraduate biblical studies degree. My capstone project is centered around the theme of God’s nearness and focuses on the story of Jesus walking on water. That’s not our story for this week, but it has caused me to refresh my knowledge on the context surrounding the writing of the gospels. Did you know Mark was likely the first recorded gospel? I think with Matthew being the first book in the New Testament we often assume it was written first. But scholars have come to believe that John Mark—a missionary partner to his cousin Barnabas and the Apostle Paul, and then later good friend of Peter—wrote the inaugural account of Jesus’ life around 65 AD. Some believe that he didn’t write his gospel until after Peter was martyred. Jesus died around 33 AD. So over 30 years passed between the events of Jesus’ life and when John Mark recorded them. Matthew, Luke and John were written even later, possibly 20-50 years later.
Why am I telling you this? I’m so glad you asked. When we read the Bible, I think it is important to remember that none of this is being written as it is happening. The gospels were written long after Jesus died and contain the stories that stuck in the hearts and minds of the authors. What does that mean for today’s teaching text? It means we should stop and consider why John felt the need to include the story of Thomas at all. Was he just throwing Thomas under the bus? It might seem that way based on the reputation this story has given him, forever “Doubting Thomas”. But no. I think John would say we’re missing the point.
Every story following the resurrection is of Jesus coming to his friends and followers. None of them went looking for him, not alive anyway. They were hiding away, living in a very real fear for their safety and wellbeing. Their hearts were broken, and their hope for the Messiah was lost. Last week, Alyssa talked about Jesus’s very first post-resurrection appearance, when he came to Mary Magdalene at the tomb. The angels had already told her that Jesus had been raised, just as he said he would, but she did not believe it. Then Jesus appeared and she still didn't recognize him because she didn’t expect to find him alive and well. When Mary, and the other women, ran to tell the male disciples, guess what happened? Did they immediately believe? No. “But they did not believe the women, because their words seemed to them like nonsense.” Later still, on that same day, two disciples were walking away from God, away from their community, away from the news of the empty tomb. They still did not believe, but Jesus came to them, speaking and walking with them, but again he was not recognized. Are you noticing the pattern? Mary doubted. The men doubted. Everyone needed to see the resurrected Jesus in order to believe. Living in unbelief is the very pattern of humanity.
So really, the story of Thomas fits right in among all the other stories of unbelief. Thomas was just another human, tempted not to believe that God was who God said they were. When Jesus first came to the ten disciples, he appeared to them in a locked room, spoke words of peace, and showed them his hands and side. Then they believed. Thomas’ demand to see Jesus was nothing other than what all the other disciples had already received from God; he wasn’t asking for special treatment. Thomas’ doubt is not unique. Imagine being the only disciple who hadn’t seen the risen Christ. I would demand to see Jesus too! Wouldn’t you?
But, one week later, its deja vu: Jesus appeared in a locked room, spoke words of peace, but then, as the Message translation puts it, he “focused his attention on Thomas.” Jesus saw Thomas. And when Jesus sees you, he loves you. There is no reprimand here, but there is kindness. Jesus chose to recreate the exact events from the week prior because that is what Thomas needed. And it was very likely that the other disciples needed it again too. Humans need a lot of reminders.
God knew that Thomas was at a crossroads between belief and unbelief. Despite his despair, Thomas had acted in faith. He easily could have holed up on his own, refusing to have any faith until Jesus showed up to prove himself. But even before seeing Jesus, Thomas showed up to observe the Sabbath with his brothers; he still wasn’t looking for God, but in God’s lovingkindness Jesus came to him there.
This is the very pattern of God. From the beginning of time, God walked with Adam and Eve in the garden. Even after they chose to trust their own way over God’s way, God came in search of them. Even when anger was threatening to take over Cain’s heart, God came to him, offering him a way out, a way of companionship. Even in the face of extreme human violence, God came to Noah offering a way out of the natural destruction that was to come. Rinse and repeat.
When Jesus came to Thomas, there was actually no need for Thomas to touch his hands or side, at least the text doesn’t say that he did that. Seeing Jesus, Thomas proclaimed in full belief, “My Lord and my God!” This was a public confession of belief. I can think of only other people who made similar declarations of Jesus’ divinty in the gospels. The appearance of Jesus, of coming to Thomas, no doubt changed the course of Thomas’ entire life. And that was the whole point of Jesus’ Farewell Tour. He could have ascended straight to the Father, but instead, for 40 days, he appeared to his people, solidifying their belief. And if Jesus understood and had compassion for the disciples' doubts and fears, you can believe he absolutely does for us too. After Thomas, John tells us that Jesus then focused his attention on us. In verse 29, Jesus says, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” This is not a slight on Thomas or a backhanded compliment. This is God’s grace for each of us who will not have the opportunity to see Jesus in the flesh.
God knows how hard belief is for us. He made us. And God does not expect our belief to be free of doubt. Certainty is not really faith at all, it’s certainty. Faith is belief without knowing, without tangible proof. Our faith holds us to our confession of belief in spite of our very human doubts. I’m with Thomas, I want the tangible proof! I so wish that God would show up in the flesh, sit down, and have a conversation with me.
What are the ways that God comes to us?
First and foremost, God is within us. Ephesians says the Spirit is moving and breathing within us; the most intimate part of our life. The Spirit of God is the part of you that longs to see God. Even in my darkest moments, when my faith feels frail and God feels nowhere to be found, I’m learning to trust what Frederick Buechner wrote, “God speaks to us most clearly through his silence, his absence, so that we know him best through our missing him.”
Thomas Merton explained it like this: “God seems to us to be hidden not merely because of His infinite distance from us, but also because of His nearness to us. He is closer to us than we are to ourselves and that is why we do not notice Him. It is harder for us to see Him than for us to see our own eyes. We can see our eyes at least in a mirror. Christ, the ‘light who enlightens every man coming into this world,’ is a light which we do not see, but which enables us to see.”
And God is everywhere outside of us too. God is in every bit of the created natural world, in everything beautiful and good, and in every face you meet. A song I heard this week, by JJ Heller, felt like God coming to me. “Every sunset is a stained-glass window, every park bench is a pew...When my eyes are open, I see you.”
Looking for God to show up is the same practice Alyssa is helping us cultivate by asking us to name where we see God at work in our lives. Choosing to open our eyes is an act of faith. When we look, we will find God is always coming to us, in a million ways.
Lord God,
thank you for your kindness,
for coming to us over and over,
for loving us in spite of our unbelief.
As we open our eyes,
show us your nearness.
And may we be conduits of your love
and grace to all those we meet.
Amen.