Summary: We are blessed for believing though we have not seen.

TO BELIEVE OR NOT TO BELIEVE

John 20:19-31 (NIV)

19 On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you!" 20 After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.

21 Again Jesus said, "Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you." 22 And with that he breathed on them and said, "Receive the Holy Spirit. 23 If you forgive anyone his sins, they are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven."

24 Now Thomas (called Didymus), one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. 25 So the other disciples told him, "We have seen the Lord!"

But he said to them, "Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it."

26 A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you!" 27 Then he said to Thomas, "Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe."

28 Thomas said to him, "My Lord and my God!"

29 Then Jesus told him, "Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed."

30 Jesus did many other miraculous signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. 31 But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.

I don’t know whether you ever watch the TV sitcom, Will and Grace. There’s one episode where Grace is overtaken by a fear that Will will no longer need her in his life. Already she can see signs that they are drifting apart, and it frightens her. Will had rather go to the gym than spend a quiet evening at home with her. He seems to prefer his friends to hers. She tries to talk to him, but he doesn’t listen. And she feels threatened by the possibility that, one day, he will not need her company at all.

In her state of panic, she tries to manipulate the situation. She buys a piano, and, when it arrives, she explains to a disbelieving Will why she ordered it. She tells him that, when she was growing up, some of her best memories were those of her family gathered around the piano, singing together. And she wants something like that for their relationship.

It’s scary, when you’re afraid you’re going to lose something or someone that is important to you. And you might do all sorts of things. Fear works on you.

You can see fear at work among the disciples of Jesus. We’re told that it was still Easter Sunday. The shine had not even worn off the news that Jesus was alive. But the disciples were afraid nonetheless -- so afraid that they locked themselves behind closed doors for protection.

It’s easy to judge them, I suppose, but, the truth is, we might do the same thing under the circumstances. I mean, everything had happened pretty fast. Just a few nights ago, they were with Jesus in the garden, and then a unit of armed men came and arrested him. They might have fought back then; in fact, some of them were ready to. But by the next day, it was clear who had the upper hand. Jesus’ enemies effortlessly pinned him to a cross, and, lest the same fate befall them, most of them ran away.

And, sure, this morning some of the women in their group showed up and claimed that Jesus was alive. They had actually seen him, even talked with him. But the disciples hadn’t seen him. And they had seen the armed guards. There’s something cold and real about the business end of a spear, and they were in no mood to challenge the willingness of a temple guard to use one. They still didn’t know what their fate was. So, they were afraid.

I’ve been afraid, at times, too. No doubt, so have you. And we know what fear does to us. It robs us of the ability to think straight. We feel threatened, and we start looking for ways to protect our interests. For Jesus’ disciples, it was their very safety for which they feared, so what did they do? They hid in a house behind locked doors.

And the thing about locked doors is, they may keep the threat out, but they also keep you in. Fear can do that. It can freeze us up, paralyze us, and constrict us. Just like it did those first disciples.

And then Jesus came. What a relief! Locked doors meant nothing to him. He simply appeared in their midst. And their fear turned to joy. You can see that in verse 20, where it comes right and says, “The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.”

But they weren’t all there, were they? One of them was missing. Thomas wasn’t with them. I wonder why? The Bible doesn’t tell us. It just says, “Thomas...was not with the disciples when Jesus came” (v. 24). It might make you think that, unlike the others, Thomas was not afraid. They were all holed up in a prison of fear, locked away in anxious precaution, and Thomas was out in the open, where anybody and everybody could see him. He didn’t seem to be worried. Maybe that was it.

Or, maybe he just didn’t get the message. That happens, doesn’t it? The disciples are all together in the safe house, and someone asks, “Where’s Thomas? Has anybody seen Thomas?” And then another voice replies -- I don’t whose -- “I couldn’t reach him. He’s the only one I couldn’t find.”

When, at last, they do see Thomas, they try to tell him what he missed. “We have seen the Lord,” they say. And they expect him to be overjoyed, just like they are.

But he isn’t. In fact, he seems especially difficult. I guess this is where he gets the nickname Doubting Thomas, because he says, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it.”

Thomas is skeptical. He’s not willing to accept a claim as far-fetched as this one is without some evidence. When you think about, he isn’t asking for anything more than the other disciples have: sensory proof. True, they may not have put their fingers where the nails were or placed their hands in the Lord’s side -- that may seem in any case a bit extreme. But they did see him, and they heard his voice. So, why do we all expect Thomas to go on hearsay? “You saw it; I didn’t,” he protests. “And, until I do, I can’t believe it.” Thomas’ attitude actually reveals that there is fear in his heart. He is afraid after all. He may not be afraid of the Jewish authorities or their armed guards -- like the rest of the disciples are. But he’s afraid of something. What is it?

Could it be that he is paralyzed by the fear of disappointment? He had already put all his eggs, so to speak, in the one basket of Jesus’ promising claims. Does he dare make that mistake again? I mean, look what happened. The Master had talked about a kingdom, but his kingdom never materialized. There was, instead, a rival kingdom, one more powerful it seemed, that crowned the would-be king not with gold but with thorns. Jesus extolled divine love, but love, even divine love, it appeared, could not prevail in the face of the intense hatred of the human heart. Jesus talked about life, and he said such hopeful things about it. But what came of it? He who spoke so fluently about life was crushed by death -- and, with him, all Thomas’ hopes. How could Thomas go through that again -- wanting to believe something, wanting to believe it with all his heart, and then putting his faith in it, in fact, trusting it to be so, only to have it all crumble to dust around him?

Thomas is a realist. At least, from now on, he is. He’s determined to go with his own primitive version of the scientific method: rely on observable, measurable, quantifiable facts, nothing less. Stay with what you can see and touch. But, as much a Thomas appears to be in control, his stubborn resistance to the disciples’ testimony exposes the fear that is in his heart after all. He wants to believe that what they say is true. He wants to believe again just as much as he did before. He yearns to take them at their word. For, truly, if what his friends say is not true, what does it matter if anything else is?

A week goes by. The disciples, in spite of all their confidence before, are once again huddled together behind closed doors. This time Thomas is with them. Their faith may not have been contagious enough to affect him, but he was infected by their fear. As before, the doors are locked. The lights are out. Everyone speaks in whispers. It’s as though no one’s home. At least, that’s the impression they hope to leave.

But Jesus is not discouraged by locked doors or closed hearts. And he comes to them again and stands in their midst, just like he did the week before. And his mission is with Thomas. He stands before this precise and inquiring, self-proclaimed clinician and says, in effect, “You want to see for yourself? You want to probe and examine and verify what you see? Go ahead! Have at it!”

But Thomas, deeply humbled by the presence of the Lord, as we would all be, no longer needs to press such exacting requirements. To see Jesus, to hear his voice -- it is enough. He falls to his knees before the Risen One and declares, “My Lord and my God!” And all his fears slide off him like melted butter. It’s a big change. Massive.

It is said that Thomas later carried the message of Jesus’ resurrection eastward, as far as India. And, wherever he went, he asked others to do what he said that he himself could not do: believe without the benefit of seeing. And, while many didn’t, many did. Doubtless, there was no one he addressed who was not subject to the multiplicity of fears that plague the human heart.

And that’s true today, wherever the gospel is proclaimed. It invites frightened people like you and me to come out of hiding and to experience the joy that comes in believing. It’s not that faith has to be without evidence. It’s just that the five senses are not the last court of appeal.

There is also testimony, the witness of reliable people who say to us, “We have seen the Lord.” We may not be any more receptive to their message than Thomas was at first. The doors of our hearts may be locked up as tight as the door of that house in which the disciples took refuge. But here’s the good news. Verse 26 tells us that, “though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them.”

Jesus isn’t obstructed by locked doors, whether they block the entrance to a house or the entrance to a heart. And I believe he will do for us what he did for the frightened disciples on that first Easter. He will come and stand among us. And when he presents himself to the human heart in this way, it’s not a matter of whether you and I will be able to believe. His presence summons belief, calls forth the faith that gives us courage to face our fears. And we believe despite our doubts. And we are blessed for believing, though we have not seen.