Still showing up
They’re days consistently tinged with irritation. We generally refer to them as one of those days. You wake up with a headache; discover the dog made a midnight snack of your new Ray Bans; miss the bus on the way to work; and discover your boss is actually a werewolf, thinly disguised as a human being. Later in the day, which is layered with further minor frustrations, you’re asked how you’re doing. You make it official, and mumble, ‘Alright, I suppose. Just having one of those days.’ We all have them.
Thomas, the disciple infamous for his capacity for doubt, had ‘one of those days’ when he missed that meeting where the resurrected Jesus showed up. Who knows what he was up to that caused him to miss one of the greatest episodes in human history? Was he working on his taxes? Visiting an elderly aunt? Lunching with an old friend? Whatever it was, it caused him to miss that meeting of all meetings.
And now, as the other disciples excitedly chatter about the awesome experience they’ve had, Thomas stoically assumes a posture not unlike that of Victor Meldrew, muttering, ‘I don’t believe it.’ He insists that unless he can be convinced Jesus really is alive – by sticking his fingers into His wounds – then unbelief is the barren place where he is going to park, so there. Thus the Christian Church, always quick on the draw with the labelling machine, has dubbed him ‘doubting Thomas’, which I think is a tad unfair. He certainly did doubt – Jesus gently rebuked him for it – but he was also a brave man, who had shown willingness to die with Jesus if necessary.
Because of his doubting, Thomas is unlikely to be a winner in the ‘I’m a disciple, get me out of here’ popularity contest. Peter, impetuous and fragile, usually wins hands-down very time. We can so easily associate with the water-walking fisherman (whose sprint across the surf was terminated by a bolt of fear, as we’ve seen). I sometimes picture him hop-scotching behind Jesus on one foot, because so often he had the other foot firmly planted in his mouth.
James and John might be favourites with the more macho types who like action thrillers, seeing they showed an indecent enthusiasm for violence and fiery judgment.
Others might prefer Andrew, because he was such a people person, immediately introducing his brother Peter to Jesus and then not getting irritated when his brother got nicknamed ‘The Rock’. I confess to finding him slightly irritating, with his gift of stating the patently obvious. Sharing the insight that a lunch of five loaves and two fishes would not go far in feeding 5,000 chaps (plus women and children) is a prime example.
But strange though it seems, I’d like to give a shout-out to Thomas as an unlikely hero.
And the reason is this: for Thomas, one of those days turned into one of those weeks. The repeated chatter between those who had seen Jesus must have been tortuous, setting his teeth on edge. We read the story of another appearance of Jesus to Thomas and so we know the happy ending, but for a while, he had no clue this would happen, and might have been anxious that his friends had lost their minds. He had no promise that Jesus would ever appear again in a similar fashion. He may well have missed the meeting of his life. A whole week went by: seven days for him in the shadowlands.
But then Jesus arrived again, and this time Thomas was there. Still showing up; his doubts unresolved; his insecurities lingering; he was there. And for that reason, he is wonderful inspiration. Woody Allen famously said that 90% of success is showing up, and Thomas did. I don’t think we give him enough credit for doing so. Thomas is surely the patron saint of those who are steering through the seasons where faith seems ludicrous, but they still show up regardless.
Sometimes Christians go through wilderness seasons of doubt, and distance themselves from their churches. The songs feel hollow, the prayers seem meaningless, and they may even feel hypocritical because of their faith crisis. Surely, they reason, it’s better to stay away. And that’s wrong. Fellowship can give us a source of strength when the going gets tough. Unable to pray much, we allow ourselves to be carried by the prayers of others. Liturgy gives us words of faith when life renders us speechless. The Church is not the gathering of the strong, but the place where we huddle to find strength. Thomas showed up.
And Thomas ended bravely, apparently martyred by spears at the command of an Indian king. His willingness to die for Jesus was no hollow promise.
So hooray for Thomas. And if you’re trusting God and still clinging to Christian community through one of those days, weeks, or even – God love you – one of those years, then a sincere, heartfelt hooray for you too.