embracing our uncertainty and betting on God

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors were locked where the disciples were, for fear of the [Jewish leaders], Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord....

But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”

A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!”

...these are written so that you may continue to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

Excerpts from John 20

This week on TikTok, I watched what is said to be the funniest moment in Critics’ Choice Movie Awards history. In 2003, three men–Daniel Day Lewis, Jack Nicholson, and Robin Williams–were nominated for Best Actor. And for the first time in Critic's Choice history, they had a tie–both Lewis and Nicholson were given the award.

But Nicholson had apparently not planned for this possibility, and he was too high to give an acceptance speech. So instead he asked Robin Williams to come up and make a speech for him--Robin Williams, the only nominee who didn't win the award!

So of course Robin Williams makes a humorous speech and concludes by saying: “I'm glad to be left out of this incredible group. It's been a wonderful evening for me to walk away with nothing. Coming here with no expectations, leaving here with no expectations. It’s pretty much been a Buddhist evening for me.”

Despite Robin Williams's good humor about the whole incident, you have to imagine it must have stung, at least a little bit. To be the only one left out? And then to be called up on stage to speak anyway? I know that I would have struggled to be put on the spot like that and expected to have a gracious and funny response–especially when I might be drowning in embarrassment and disappointment, and maybe even some frustration.

I wonder if this is how the disciple Thomas felt when he came back to the place where the disciples were gathered, and everyone was abuzz with excitement. “You'll never guess who stopped by!” They must have said. “Jesus!”

Thomas must have thought: Really? Was I really the only one who was left out? Did Jesus really not care enough about me to wait until I was back? 

Of course, this was a day that was already charged with emotion. This was three days after Jesus’ death; that morning, Mary Magdalene had gone to the tomb and found him gone. She ran to tell the disciples the most unimaginable news they could have received: Jesus is alive!

The disciples, of course, are shocked and bewildered. They are still reeling from Jesus’ traumatic death only a few days ago. They don't know how to process this unbelievable news that he might be alive; they don't have any idea what comes next.

In fact, they are still so afraid that they–the disciples and likely more of Jesus’ followers–have gathered together and barricaded themselves into the house. 

Which at first may seem strange, but think about it: These Jewish people have just watched their religious leaders turn in their friend and teacher to the state police–that is, the Roman soldiers. They have watched the religious leaders they trusted to guide their community in the faith turn their backs on them. They have watched the government turn against them and execute Jesus. 

Of course they are terrified. Is one of them next? Will they all be arrested? Will they all be executed?

Somehow, despite the locked and barricaded doors, Jesus appears in the midst of them. Jesus shows them his wounds to prove it is him. Jesus bestows them with peace. 

It is after Jesus leaves that Thomas returns, perhaps from getting food for his community or taking care of a family member. We can imagine that he was already caught in a swirl of grief and confusion. And then, to hear that Jesus showed up to everyone else, and not him? To hear that he alone was left out? 

So Thomas responds sharply: “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”

Now Thomas gets a lot of flak for this statement. It’s a statement that has earned him the title of Doubting Thomas, which we have informally called him for centuries. In a way, titling him Doubting Thomas for eternity would be like titling Robin Williams as Robin-Who-Didn’t-Win-Best-Actor. It would reduce him to one moment, one apparent failure.

Yet I have to wonder: Is this strong statement that Thomas makes really a moment of failure?

Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.

To me, it almost sounds like a dare. Until I see it. Show me, God. Show me the wounds you showed everyone else. Show up for me too. 

Perhaps this is a dare, a wager, a demand: Thomas wants to see Jesus too. Thomas wants to know firsthand too. And he is willing to bet on it, willing to hold out on believing if it makes Jesus show up.

Now, I’m not saying that ultimatums are an effective way to relate to God. But I am saying that perhaps a statement like this might actually be an act of defiant faith. To say: I'm going to bet that God will show up for me. 

This bet costs him something. Because a whole week goes by where the other disciples are rejoicing and hoping and believing that Jesus is alive. And during that week, Thomas continues to be uncertain; he continues to be left out. 

But he refuses to join in until he, too, gets to experience what they have experienced. He’s not asking for much–he’s just asking for Jesus not to leave him out.

We all know what this feels like, right? Each and every one of us has felt left out at some point. Perhaps when others around us are getting awards and accolades. Perhaps by groups of friends that have experiences together that we missed out on. Perhaps when it feels like the lives of everyone around us are going better than ours–when it feels like God is showing up for everyone else, when everyone else’s family seems happy and healthy when ours is sick and struggling. We have felt disappointed and jealous and hurt. 

We know what Thomas is feeling. Perhaps we even understand his response. I will not believe until I know for certain.

Miraculously, Jesus shows up for Thomas, after that full week of waiting and wondering and feeling left out. In our English Bibles, Jesus says to him: “Do not doubt, but believe.”

Do not doubt. What an impossible command this seems to be! And yet when we look at this verse in its original Greek, something interesting appears: This word we translate as “doubt” is actually just “disbelieve.” In other words, a more accurate translation would be: “Do not be unbelieving, but believing.”

Does this difference matter? I think it does. Disbelief usually means a rejection of a certain belief, perhaps in this case a rejection of the news of Jesus’ resurrection. But doubt is not rejection. Doubt is simply uncertainty.

It seems unlikely that Jesus would say, “Do not be uncertain.” That, truly, would be an impossible command. Life itself is uncertain; being a human in the world means experiencing uncertainty. There is so much that we don’t know and can’t be certain of. We can’t be certain of our futures, or even what tomorrow looks like. And this uncertainty, as frustrating as it is, can actually be fodder for growth, for change, for being willing to learn and admit when we are wrong.

Yet still there is so much stigma around the word “doubt,” around this experience of uncertainty. Doubt is often seen as sinful, a failure of faith. In some Christian communities, the strength of your certainty is the litmus test for how good your faith is. You had to be sure and certain of the resurrection, even if you’d never witnessed the wounds in Jesus’ hands and side.

Often, when we have uncertainties in our faith, we begin to feel afraid. We feel guilty for doubting, for asking questions. For wondering: Is this resurrection thing all it’s cracked up to be? Is God really real and alive and working in our world? Will God really show up for me? 

If absolute, 100% certainty was the test for our faith, it would be an impossible expectation. Yet Jesus is not asking for Thomas to be certain. Jesus is just asking Thomas to be faithful. To believe–however fragile that belief is–that Jesus is alive and here, and to keep showing up in that community of disciples.

Some days we believe. Some days we feel uncertain. Some days we feel like the faith we profess is a bit of a stretch. But there is still something faithful about continuing to act according to that faith–to keep gathering with your community, to keep showing up, to keep betting on God–even on the days when you're not 100% certain that you believe, or that what you believe is true. 

And Jesus knows how hard this is, which is why he says those famous words: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” That’s us–the ones who haven’t seen the wounds in Jesus’ side, and yet believe anyway.

The Gospel of John ends this chapter by saying, “[this was] written so that you may continue to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.”

Why believe, according to John? The point of believing is not to be 100% certain. It's not getting all of your beliefs and doctrines and creeds right. The point of believing, John says, is that you may have life.

Because belief is a lived thing. It's actions we take, and relationships we nurture, and communities we build. It's the lives we create, individually and together.

It’s Thomas continuing to gather with the other disciples even as he felt disappointed and hurt and left out. It’s us continuing to gather in worship even on the days we aren’t sure whether God will show up for us.

And the good news of this passage is: despite Thomas’ disbelief, Jesus shows up for him. Jesus shows up, in the midst of uncertainty and disappointment. 

Jesus does not reject us or condemn us for uncertainty. Not at all. Rather, it is in the midst of our uncertainty that Jesus shows up.

May we hold our uncertainties and our disappointments gently, and may we continue to act in faith anyway.

Modified from a sermon preached at West Trenton Presbyterian Church on April 7, 2024