Trusting Thomas

On October 4 - the Feast of St. Francis - I was asked by Bishop Fisher to spend some time with the good people of All Saints Church in Worcester as they navigated their way through a challenging time that recently led to the resignation of their rector. Today, when the Church remembers Thomas on the Second Sunday of Easter, is my last week with them. They will remain close to my heart, however, and continue in my prayers. Today's gospel reading can be found here.

This morning’s familiar encounter between Thomas and Jesus becomes clearer when we learn just a little bit of Greek. Just one vocab word, I promise. So let’s begin there…

Pistis is not talking about the content of our faith. It’s not about what we think we know, which is always subject to change with new evidence. It’s not about our beliefs, which can and do change over time. Rather, pistis is about trust. So a better translation of the words we heard Jesus saying to Thomas in today’s Gospel reading would be: “do not lack trust; trust me.”

The opposite of faith is not doubt; it’s fear. And we begin to overcome fear when we put our trust in the right place. Let me not bury the lead today: in God we trust. We who gather here in the name of the risen Christ on the Second Sunday of Easter know that what the women who came to the tomb early in the morning finally told the disciples (when they overcame their fear) is true. Christ is alive!

So please don’t call Thomas a doubter. I want to call him a questioner. I want to call him a seeker. And I want to suggest to you this morning that his questions (and our questions) can lead us to a deeper faith and put us on the path to overcome fear. Because the issue today isn’t about whether or not Thomas believes in the resurrection; the issue is whether or not he still trusts Jesus.

Are you with me? Thomas is struggling with whether his trust in Jesus was a good decision, now that Jesus has been killed by the Roman authorities. He had chosen to stake his life on Jesus by taking up his own cross to follow Jesus, wherever that might lead. But it led to death on a cross. What he’s really saying is “what do I do now?”  How do I go on? Who can I trust? And Jesus says to him, in response: do not lack trust; trust me.

Who is Thomas, the twin? We’ve heard from him on two previous occasions in John’s Gospel. In the eleventh chapter, when Jesus goes back to Judea to raise Lazarus from the dead (even though it is clear at that point that the authorities are out to get Jesus) it is Thomas who says to the other disciples: “let us go with him that we may also die with him.” (John 11:16) He was willing then to follow Jesus to death; to stand in solidarity with him. The question before us today is a harder one: is he now willing to risk life in Christ? 

And then one of my favorite Thomas moments, when Jesus is waxing poetic about how the disciples should not let their hearts be troubled. I’m sure you’ve heard it read at funerals. Jesus says that he is going to prepare a place for them and that in God’s house there are many dwelling places. And then Jesus says: “you know the way where I am going.” It’s like men and directions: Jesus says “you know the way” and everyone is nodding, oh yeah, we know the way, we don’t need no stinking GPS! But it is good old Thomas in that moment who speaks up and asks the question that all the disciples are thinking but are too afraid to ask: “excuse me Lord, but we don’t have a clue where you are going so how can we know the way?” (John 14:5) It is in that specific context—to those disciples (and to us) and in direct response to Thomas’ question that Jesus says: trust me. I am the way, I am the truth, I am the life. Keep your eyes on me, stick with me and I’ll get you where you need to go.

All Saints, I haven’t forgotten that today’s reading takes place after these two earlier stories. But these earlier Thomas moments remind us what kind of a guy he is. And I think they also offer some good advice for you all as well as life continues to unfold here. All will be well, and you will find where you are going. A lot has happened over the past six months and maybe it’s shaken some of you a bit. How to move forward? Keep your eyes on Jesus. Stick with him and you’ll get where you need to go. He is the Way and the Truth and the Life.

Do not lack trust. Trust. Thomas the twin isn’t afraid to ask the hard questions. This seems clear. But please don’t call him a doubter. Every teacher needs at least one student like Thomas in his classroom, someone who is willing to raise her hand and say, “Maybe I’m the only one, but can we back up? I’m lost…” Thomas isn’t afraid to articulate where he is and what he needs to overcome his fear, in order to regain pistis. And in today’s gospel reading we see that Jesus doesn’t shame him for asking. Jesus gives Thomas just what he needs. Which leads Thomas to renewed trust and the courage to claim: “My Lord and My God.” That’s where faith leads: to the living God, the God we know intimately through this risen Christ.  

I’ve noticed that many of the people who have found their way into Episcopal congregations like this one have expressed gratitude that the Episcopal Church is a place where all are welcome and where it’s alright to be like Thomas. Maybe it’s even encouraged.  Maybe he’s the patron saint of Episcopalians. We live in an unsteady and confusing world, to be sure. In times like these, cookie-cutter spirituality and cheap grace abound. People sometimes want easy answers to settle them down. But we aspire for something more than that. Maybe our gift as a denomination is in refusing to provide ready-made answers to life’s big questions but instead to create a safe space where the questions can be articulated until we find our way to the One who truly is worthy of our trust. To create safe spaces that are big enough for our doubts and uncertainties, spaces where trust can be cultivated and nurtured like a tiny little mustard seed.

I am committed to ecumenical relationships and I don’t think we are “the best” at everything. Nor do I think we are the only denomination that values this approach to faith. But we’re pretty good at it. It may even be a charism of ours. We don’t define ourselves by doctrines, by what we believe. We define ourselves as people who make room for questions in ourselves and one another and where we can work on trust – and along the way where we, too, can encounter the risen Jesus again. Do not lack trust. Trust.

One of the unfortunate consequences of the Enlightenment is that culturally we are tempted to conclude that what we believe is the same thing as having faith. So we debate the Virgin Birth or the meaning of the Cross or how to interpret Scripture, and then we mistakenly insist that these beliefs are what make us Christians. We divide ourselves into insiders and outsiders, orthodox and heretics. With Emma Gonzales, I call BS.

When Jesus washed his disciples’ feet, he didn’t say that the world would know us by our right beliefs. He gave us a new commandment. He told us to love one another. Do you remember? It’s not that long ago! He insisted that the world would know we are Christians by our willingness to be servants in a world bent on abusing power. That the world would know us by our love for one another. St. Paul told the Christians in Corinth that what makes us Christians is faith, hope, and love, but the greatest of these is love. He also told that same congregation that we can have all kinds of gifts or knowledge or orthodox theology and even ministries but if we don’t have love we are just clanging cymbals.

The goal isn’t right belief. It’s about good practices, rooted in love – which always begin with where we put our trust. So do not lack trust; trust.

That is the good news that we will share with the newly baptized today as they grow up in an unsteady and confusing world. Our promise to them as we raise them in the faith is not that we will always get it right. We won’t and their parents won’t and they won’t. Our promise to them is not that we’ll have all the answers but that we’re willing to sit with them in love and with hope, as faith seeks understanding. Our prayer for them today is that they will have “inquiring and discerning hearts.” For them to develop that kind of heart, however, we need to model that for them. Inquiring hearts are first trusting hearts.

That’s the end of my sermon today. But let me take my remaining time as a moment of personal privilege. Thank you, All Saints, from the bottom of my heart. You are a wonderful congregation. I loved being a parish priest, which I did for almost twenty years. And I now love being a Canon the Ordinary, which I’ve been doing for five years. But the latter is more broad and panoramic. Over the course of these next weeks I will be in Ashfield, Williamstown, Wilbraham, Southwick and places in between. You tend to fly in and fly out in diocesan work which means in some sense you are nowhere. Parish ministry can become parochial, and that’s a danger too. But it can also go deep. And you grow rather fond of the people among you serve.

You have given me the chance to have the best of both worlds over these past six months. When Bishop Fisher asked if I’d consider being here for a few months in October, I said yes almost immediately. Partly I couldn’t think of another option in the midst of the rector’s departure and Jose becoming a new daddy. But I also realized early on that there was something in this for me. And there has been…

But it is not sustainable in the long run. And more importantly, my work has been something like that of a first responder here. I’ve walked with you through a difficult time – one might even say a crisis. Of course there will be more challenges ahead, to be sure. But they will require someone who can be focused on you all, full time, now that there is a vacancy and we’ll be searching for a priest-in-charge. You need more than me “filling in the gaps” and I need to get back to my previously scheduled program.

So the time has come to say farewell. It’s bittersweet for me but I also know it’s the right time. I do hope that there will be ways to be connected here going forward, but it won’t be the same. I will miss you all. But let me conclude by putting on my canon hat and telling you what I tell congregations that are in the midst of clergy transitions across this diocese: the Church’s one foundation is Jesus Christ her Lord. The Church is not about the clergy. It’s bigger than that. The Church is about Jesus Christ – this same risen Christ who meets Thomas where he is and who meets us where we are and then says, keep on keeping on. Do not lack trust; trust, All Saints.

Love one another. Listen to one another and be challenged by one another. Argue with each other, but fight fair and be prepared to change your minds. Pray for each other – especially the members of the staff and your wardens and vestry. This parish has an opportunity to show the Church and this city what it means to have more than one story as your life together continues to unfold. Continue to make beautiful music here and reach out to the neighborhood in love. Those are not mutually exclusive goods. Do not let fear undo you. Put your trust in our Lord and our God, and may God bless you and keep you, all saints.