Jesu Juva
St. John 20:24-29
December 20, 2023
St. Thomas, Apostle (observed)
Dear saints of our Savior~
Well, we’ve almost made it. You may have noticed in recent months that the daylight has been dwindling—daily diminishing. The days have been getting shorter and the nights have been getting longer. Tomorrow will officially be the darkest day of the year—the winter solstice.
But long ago and far away, someone took the winter solstice and re-purposed it. Someone circled the 21st of December and said, “On this darkest of days we will remember St. Thomas.” And so we are (one day early). It feels strange to remember St. Thomas (Doubting Thomas) in the final few days of Advent. Thomas left his lasting mark on the Church post-Easter, not pre-Christmas. We always hear about Thomas the Sunday after Easter. Talking about Thomas tonight—well, that’s a little bit like singing Christmas carols to celebrate the summer solstice. But Thomas has much to teach us no matter the degree of darkness or daylight.
Have you ever wondered why Thomas doubted? When the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord,” why didn’t Thomas take them at their word? Why did he dig in his heels, demanding to see and examine the marks of the nails and spear in the flesh of Jesus? Surely Thomas knew that the other disciples wouldn’t fabricate a story about Jesus rising from the dead and then lie to him about it. It’s not as if Thomas hadn’t seen Jesus defying the laws of physics firsthand—miraculously multiplying loaves and fishes, walking on water, healing the sick, and raising the dead. Thomas had heard Jesus predict both His death and His resurrection on more than one occasion. So, why—why did Thomas say, “I will never believe?” Why, suddenly, become a skeptic right when the good news is starting to pour in?
Well, maybe it was just too good to be true. Christ is risen? Death is destroyed? Free forgiveness? Eternal life for all who believe? Yeah, that would be great . . . but, you don’t dare believe that. It’s just too good to be true. At some level Thomas likely wanted it to be true—wanted to believe what he was hearing from the other disciples who had seen the Lord. But Thomas didn’t want to be disappointed. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, only to have those hopes dashed. Maybe Thomas was one of those people who always expect the worst, so that when the worst happens you’ll be prepared for it—and then you’ll have the pleasure of telling everyone else, “See, I was right! Told ya.”
Hoping for the best—while expecting the worst—those are really two sides of the same coin. It’s actually how most of us live each day—if we dare to admit it. I think this is the case with a lot of the angry, atheist voices we hear so frequently at this time of year—people whose purpose in life is to prove Christianity wrong and to show the Bible to be a book of lies and myths. The volume of these voices gets turned up every December—skeptics desperately trying to skewer every aspect of the nativity. Why are they so angry and loud? Don’t they want a Savior? Don’t they want a God who loves them and comforts them? Don’t they want the antidote to death? Of course, they do. But that’s just too good to be true. And so they say together with St. Thomas, “I will never believe.”
Our pessimism and skepticism—our doubts and our fears—the Lord doesn’t want those things shaping your outlook on life. Whether you are hoping for the best or preparing for the worst, you have made yourself the center of the universe. Will you be happy, or will you be disappointed? Will you enjoy the best-case scenario, or the worst-case scenario? Aiming for pleasure while preparing for pain—either way, it’s all about you. Your ultimate concern . . . is you! Whether you are expecting to be miserable this Christmas, or whether you are expecting nothing but Toblerone and candy canes, all of those expectations center in you—whether bracing for the worst or hoping for the best. That is the definition of “self-centeredness.” And self-centeredness is the very life of sin that you have been called to leave behind.
St. Thomas teaches us a better way—teaches us to find the center—not in ourselves, but in Jesus. Jesus has a soft spot for skeptics. Jesus takes pity on pessimists. He doesn’t leave us to selfishly wallow in our doubts and fears. Jesus came back one week later—came back purely for the sake of Thomas: Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe. Jesus came to rescue Thomas from his not-so-great expectations—to show him that the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting isn’t too good to be true. Because Christ is risen, you don’t have to go through life expecting and fearing the worst. Because your life now centers in Jesus. It’s not all about you; it’s all about Jesus. You’re not the center of the universe; He is. He is the Sun around which your life is in eternal orbit. He is a sun that never sets. He is the light no darkness can overcome. He has taken from you your very worst—all the damning selfishness that darkens your days; and He gives to you His very best—His full forgiveness, His perfect righteousness, light and life that lasts forever.
He died to earn it all for you; and He lives to give it all to you. His giving and your receiving happens right here. This is the place where doubt and skepticism give way to faith and confidence and the thrill of hope. The picture on tonight’s bulletin isn’t for the faint of heart—a skeptical Thomas probing at the wounded side of Jesus. Those dear tokens of His passion Still His dazzling body bears. Thomas needed to know that this was really Jesus—that Jesus was risen and living, ordering our days and our deeds in His peace. You need to know that too. And that’s why the risen Christ comes here, for your sake: “This is my body,” He says, “given for you. This cup is the new testament in my blood, shed for you.”
Here you get what Thomas got. And like Thomas, you no longer have to go through life hoping for the best while preparing for the worst. The good things that come your way are blessings that come from Christ. And even the less-than-good things don’t change the fact that He is your Lord and your God. Once Thomas found his center—his sun—in Jesus, he was never the same again. Eventually, he moved to India, bearing witness to the risen Christ until he himself was martyred by a spear in his own side. Like the Christmas shepherds, we gather around Christ in the flesh and then go out telling others what we have seen and heard—like Thomas.
I hope you enjoy those 30 seconds of extra daylight coming your way on Friday (break out the sunscreen!). Let it remind you of how Jesus delivered Thomas from the darkness of his doubts and gave him the light of life instead. He does the same for you—and He delights to do it for even the most passionate pessimist. Of that you can be sure, certain and supremely confident.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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