Unbelief: The Seed of Faith

“This Jesus God raised up, and all of you are witnesses.”

Except Thomas. Poor Thomas. Everyone else had been there the week before… we don’t know where Thomas had been. Maybe the grief was too much. Maybe he went back home. Maybe he was wandering the streets, alone, aimless. Wherever he was, he wasn’t there when Jesus appeared to the other disciples. We call him a doubter, but... get ready for my first-ever sermon Greekout…

It doesn’t say he doubted. It says he didn’t believe: “Until I see the marks, I won’t believe.”

And Jesus said to him: “Don’t be a disbeliever: believe.”

John is pretty clear about the benefits of believing: “To all who receive him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God (John 1:12)… whoever believes in him will not perish but will have eternal life (3:16)… anyone who hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life (5:24)… I will raise them up on the last day (6:40).” As to those who don’t believe, John has some pretty harsh words: “Those who do not believe are condemned already” (3:18)… “whoever disbelieves the Son will not see life, but must endure God’s wrath” (3:36)… they “do not have his word” (5:38)… you get the drift.  But what about everyone else? What about all the Thomases out there? What about all the Thomases in here?

Now, we could clean this up nicely and stay with Thomas doubting, but let’s remain with Thomas for a moment. Let’s walk with him for the week of hearing stories about Jesus, feeling like the next thing the other disciples were going to say was “gullible is written on the ceiling.” They told him, but he said, “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.” I will not believe. I don’t believe you.  

Thomas is always the one with questions. In John 14, Jesus tells them that he is going to prepare a place for them. Thomas says, “How can we know the way?” How can we know the way, Jesus? Maybe we should call him Questioning Thomas. Inquisitive Thomas. Unbelieving Thomas doesn’t have quite as nice a ring. It’s a little too raw, a little too true, a little to close to where the rest of us live.

How many of us have ever needed a little more than the advice “just believe” to go on? How many of us have ever prayed for a sign – any sign – that God was with us on our journey? How many of us had been told some good news that was so good it was, finally, unbelievable?

I don’t believe you. I don’t believe that there is a God out there that loves the world. Look at all the death. Look at all the destruction. Open your eyes.

To live in this world, as it is, takes more than a faith that comes easily. Belief and faith are hard-fought and long-won. They go through peaks and valleys and seasons of hopelessness and seasons of renewal. Faith and belief are not like a band-aid we put on the wounded world, on our wounded selves.  Faith and belief are a bit more rude, a bit more like surgery.

Faith and belief are the opposite side of doubt and unbelief. It takes one to understand the other. Unless we know doubt, it is difficult to know faith. Unless we know unbelief, it is difficult to know – really know – belief. Belief is different than coming to church every week. Belief is praying when we’re not sure what we believe, when everything in our world has been turned upside down. Faith is walking forward even though we don’t know the way. Sometimes, our greatest moments of unbelief give way to the greatest moments of belief.

Frederick Buechner says it this way: “If you tell me Christian commitment is a kind of thing that has happened to you once and for all like some kind of spiritual plastic surgery, I say go to, go to, you're either pulling the wool over your own eyes or trying to pull it over mine. Every morning you should wake up in your bed and ask yourself: "Can I believe it all again today?" No, better still, don't ask it till after you've read The New York Times, till after you've studied that daily record of the world's brokenness and corruption, which should always stand side by side with your Bible. Then ask yourself if you can believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ again for that particular day. If your answer's always Yes, then you probably don't know what believing means. At least five times out of ten the answer should be No because the No is as important as the Yes, maybe more so. The No is what proves you're human in case you should ever doubt it. And then if some morning the answer happens to be really Yes, it should be a Yes that's choked with confession and tears and. . . great laughter.” 

What about the things John says about belief and unbelief? What about where he makes it sound like there is a cosmic line drawn in the sand, with eternal life on the one side and damnation on the other?

Jesus’ interaction with the world – and with Thomas – have something to teach us here. When we hear John’s talk of belief and unbelief and lines drawn in the sand, often, we place ourselves on one side: the believing side, and others on the opposite side: the unbelieving side. What does it mean, then, when Jesus comes to the unbelieving world and loves it? What does it mean, then, when Jesus comes to unbelieving Thomas and says, “Put your finger here, my beloved unbeliever.” And after the moment of unbelief, the moment of confession: My Lord and my God. Thomas, for all his unbelief, for all his questions, gets this one right: he is the first to call Jesus “God.” Thomas is not the exception to the rule. He is the rule. He is the one who has questions. He is the one who confesses his unbelief. He is the one who asks to touch Jesus. He is the one who confesses the truth of his risen Lord.

If the only people who ever came to church were people who believed everything 100% of the time, nobody would be here. If the only people who ever said the Creed were people who believed everything it said 100% of the time, nobody would ever say the Creed. And if we did believe all this 100% of the time, there would be no need for confession. There would be no need for prayer. There would be no need for Jesus.

But Jesus didn’t come to a world where everyone believed 100% of the time or who got it right 100% of the time. Jesus came to a world that was broken, to people that were – and are – broken, to people who carry their questions with them. And Jesus says, come: come with your questions, come with your doubts, come with your unbelief. Come and touch, come and taste, come and see.

Believing once and for all, is a little like trying to eat once and for all. Belief is not a one-time shot, where we either get it right or get it wrong. Belief is a daily dying and rising, a daily confession; it is the breath of faith, in prayer and in song. It is looking at a messy world and claiming that – even still – it belongs to God. It is looking at our messy lives and claiming – even still – that they belong to God.

We are witnesses of these things. We, who have not seen, we who have not believed, we who cover up your doubts as if they’re some sort of insurmountable feat for God: we are witnesses of these things. It would be a small thing for God to fashion preachers of the resurrection out of people who believed it all 100% of the time. It is a different thing altogether for God to take us – our doubts, our fears, our unbelief – and to make us preachers of the resurrection, inviting others to come and touch, come and taste, come and see.