Only Thomas?

THE SECOND SUNDAY OF EASTER

John 20:19-31

The first time the disciples told the story in today’s gospel, it was about the doubt experienced by all of them. The version in Luke chapter 24 begins very similarly to today’s passage–except that none of the disciples, not even Thomas, was missing. In Luke’s version, just like today’s, the disciples were gathered together closely when Jesus “stood among them” and said, “Peace be with you.”

But unlike in John’s version, Luke’s gospel tells us that all of these disciples were shocked, afraid, and doubtful when Jesus appeared to them. When Jesus saw their doubt, he showed them his hands and his feet. Jesus invited all of them to touch his wounded body. But even with this offer, the disciples were in disbelief that it was really Jesus.

In Luke’s gospel, then, Jesus had to convince all the disciples that he wasn’t a ghost, but truly alive. Jesus convinced them first by eating a fish, and then by opening the disciples’ minds to the Scriptures that pointed to him as the Messiah. Only after they were convinced did Jesus send the disciples out with his message of forgiveness, and with his power.

In Luke’s gospel, the story of Jesus overcoming doubt and disbelief was a story about all of the disciples.

But in John’s gospel, which we read today, the story of Jesus overcoming doubt and disbelief isn’t a story about all the disciples. It’s just a story about Thomas.

John’s version begins like Luke’s: Jesus “stood among” the disciples and said “Peace be with you” to them. But in John, Jesus didn’t stand with and wish peace to all of them. Just to all of them . . . except Thomas.

In John’s gospel, these other disciples show no trace of doubt. Jesus reveals his hands to them automatically, not in response to any fear on their part. In today’s version of this story, the disciples aren’t afraid to see Jesus; they just rejoice.

And in John’s gospel, Jesus doesn’t need to invite the disciples to touch him; seeing apparently is enough for them. Jesus doesn’t make a special effort to convince these disciples of who he is or that he lives. These disciples seem instantly worthy of Jesus’s empowerment through the Holy Spirit to forgive sins.

In today’s version of the story, all the doubt and disbelief, the offer of touch, and the need to be convinced, belong to Thomas alone.

It’s probably a common pattern in human storytelling to take all the things we’d rather not see or remember about ourselves, and to project them onto that one person who wasn’t quite like us.

Years after that first Easter week, the disciples might have said to each other, “We didn’t think Jesus was a ghost. That was Thomas! Remember the look on Thomas’s face??”

The disciples could report to others, “We weren’t afraid of Jesus after his resurrection. We were just happy to see him!”

“Jesus didn’t need to let us touch him,” the disciples could say. “He was only holding out his hands to Thomas. We could tell it was Jesus just by looking.”

“Jesus didn’t accuse us of doubt,” the disciples could tell their new converts. “But you should have heard him give Thomas a hard time!”

“We always knew that Jesus was the Messiah,” the disciples could reassure one another. “Only Thomas needed convincing.”



There’s a theory about why Thomas in particular was a target for the author of John’s gospel. As the latest gospel, it may reflect a time in Christian history, or just a specific early Christian community, with less and less room for admitting other points of view on who Jesus was, on what or where or when his kingdom was coming, or on what exactly it was about Jesus that could save us.

Maybe the closed, fear-filled, locked room in today’s gospel reflects that atmosphere–an atmosphere that drove Thomas away.

The name “Thomas” is linked in fact to several early Christian documents with claims that sound most audacious to many modern Christians–like the wild childhood stories in the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, or the impenetrable teachings in the Gospel of Thomas.

For some of Jesus’s disciples, remembering Easter might have been a time to deny doubt and fear. Over the years, the story told in Luke about all the doubtful disciples became the story told in John about lonely “doubting Thomas.” But the season of Easter could instead invite us back into those moments of doubt and fear in our own lives, and then call us to imagine how much bigger our faith could be from there.

Who else could we include in the message of life and peace after fear and woundedness? Who else could we number among us, make somehow present with us while we’re closed away? Who could we thank and celebrate for going out and facing fear when we ourselves cannot?

When we acknowledge doubts and fears as our own, and when we look for all those partners who can share in our peace, no matter their own doubts and fears, then we can live and tell the Easter story even more faithfully than we did the year before. We’ll remember how miraculous it was that Christ’s presence found us, right where we were.


© 2020 The Rev. Dr. Lora Walsh
St. Paul’s Episcopal Church – Fayetteville, Arkansas


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