Thomas: the First Episcopalian
Let’s face it: Thomas got a bum rap. All the man wanted was the same info the other disciples had gotten from Mary and Jesus. Thomas was away when Mary burst in to say she had seen Jesus on the road. He was away when Jesus appeared to the disciples on the first Easter night. On that night, Jesus greeted the disciples with “Peace be with you,” shalom, but they responded with dropped jaws and looks of stupefaction. Then they saw Jesus’ hands and side; then they responded with joy and excitement.
But Thomas? Thomas reacts with the most astounding statement of faith you can find in any Gospel. When Thomas sees Jesus’ hands and feet he bursts out, “My Lord and my God!”
Of them all, it is Thomas who is ready to receive the Holy Spirit that Jesus breathed into the disciples that day. It is Thomas who has the enthusiasm of the early Christians described in the Acts of the Apostles,
Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul…With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all.
It is Thomas who most reflects the light John wrote about in his first letter.
[W]e declare to you what we have seen and heard so that you also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. 4We are writing these things so that our joy may be complete.
Both Acts and 1John are enthusiastic proclamations of Easter as early Christians experienced it and lived it. Their enthusiasm was born in the little Pentecost described in our Gospel this morning, where Jesus commissioned all disciples to live a life of forgiveness for themselves and for one another:
As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’ 22When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. 23If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.’
Imagine. It is the first time Jesus sees his disciples since his crucifixion. He doesn’t ask, “How easy was it for you to deny me?” “What happened to you along that hard climb I had to make?” “Where were you while I hanged in agony?” He returns to the disciples breathing forgiveness, breathing the courage and grace they will need to live lives of forgiveness in an unforgiving world. Rather than bringing recrimination, Jesus brings a commission to the whole body of the church to forgive one another, to forgive ourselves, to open ourselves once again to grace, to make the efforts needed to reach reconciliation with one another. It’s not easy; it takes the strength of the Holy Spirit within us.
What of the sins we decide to retain? This thought has been interpreted in ways that don’t sound at all like Christ or Christ’s Easter being. It has been interpreted to prove that it is only the church hierarchy who has the “power” to forgive or withhold forgiveness. That interpretation completely overlooks Jesus’ consistent messages about loving one another as best we can, to model our love after God’s endless love for us. It has been interpreted as a right to withhold forgiveness for whatever reasons come to mind. We puff ourselves up. I have a faded tee-shirt I love. It has a drawing of a huge baby chick, and says, “Mighty, mighty preschoolers!” That’s what comes to my mind when I find myself retaining and beating myself over my own mistakes and misdeeds. Retaining my own or another person’s sin gives me a belief of some kind of control. I complicate what Jesus made straightforward.
Jesus is right: whose sins we retain are retained. So what do we mean by “retain”? We mean we would rather hold onto a resentment, or anger, or rage, rather than to forgive, rather than to reconcile. It means we shackle our souls tightly, making it impossible to feel the breath of the Holy Spirit or to receive or share grace. It means we exclude ourselves from fellowship with those who share one heart and one soul. It means we exclude ourselves from fellowship with our Higher Power and with Jesus Christ. We are excluding ourselves from complete joy. It means we are excluding ourselves from the joy and promise of Easter. It’s heartbreak, but we can choose heartbreak if we want it.
Thomas shows us that Jesus’ tenet of forgiveness is far more vital in our lives of faith than any creed or piece of tradition. I’m grateful for Thomas and his so-called doubts. I’m grateful for his wondering. I’m grateful he understood the essence and meaning of the resurrection. I’m grateful because I have doubts about the wordings and hopes of our ancient creeds and traditions. I’m grateful that Jesus shared his commission to the whole fellowship of disciples on that Easter night, those present and those absent: I am at peace when I hear us say, “We believe in God, the Father almighty…” because our fellowship of faith can support me even on those wrestling days when I cannot believe for myself.
Thomas shows us that we are Easter people because, even with our doubts, we can proclaim, “My Lord and my God!” and love and forgive ourselves and one another as Christ has forgiven us. This is a tough lesson for us to master. The gifted German philosopher Frederick Nietzsche once said about Christians, "I might believe in your redeemer if you looked more redeemed." Thomas is here to tell us that our beliefs are important, but it is our actions that define us as Christians.
Tomorrow is the 10th anniversary of the shootings at Columbine High School. I heard an interview with a mom whose son survived the rampage. (1) She said that car after car carried the bumper sticker, “We are Columbine.” Not “We love Columbine” or “We support Columbine.” “We are all Columbine”, signifying the oneness of this small town, whether connected to the high school or not. It was the unity that carried them through, she said.
She also spoke about a photo she loves about the flower Columbine, a delicate flower that, in the photo, blooms between the hard granite surrounding it. John Fielder’s photo strengthened her hope that the delicate kids of Columbine would thrive. And this is the message of Thomas, who, knowing his own limitations and knowing he was chosen by Jesus for those limitations and questions as well as his strengths, could proclaim “my Lord and my God” and live in the hope of the resurrected Christ.
"The Flower that Shattered the Stone" by John Fieldler