Friday, December 8, 2017

Advent is a Season of Listening for God

The fundamental statement of belief from ancient Israel’s history is found in Deuteronomy 6:4:  “Hear O’ Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is One.” Known as the Shema, the Hebrew word for 'hear', this confession begins with a command to hear; a command that Jesus often reiterated through his well known statement, “Let anyone who has ears to hear, listen.” Indeed, we find many references to the act of hearing throughout scripture, implying that God has something to say to God’s people.

But the act of hearing need not be limited to the physiological act of hearing a sound that enters the ear. Rather, the call to listen is a call to give full attention and adherence to the Word of God. When we are commanded in scripture to listen, it is a call to silence the noise of our self-interests and listen intently for the voice of God.

In the opening of Mark’s Gospel, Mark’s Advent narrative, we hear various voices speak. First, we hear the words of Israel‘s prophets echoed as a way of declaring that the coming of Jesus is the fulfillment of God’s age-old promises. Second, we hear the words of John the Baptist, the voice in the wilderness, who prepares the Way of the Lord.

We also hear the very voice of God, speaking through the rip of heaven to the Beloved Son; an event through which Jesus understands his mission as God’s envoy. And in the verses that close Mark’s prologue, 1:14-15, we hear that same Beloved Son speak with the authority of God, declaring that God’s rule was near. Indeed, in the very act of reading the narrative over and over, we continue to participate in hearing not only this story, but the various voices that proclaim the gospel to us.

Yet, despite the clear commands to listen, we face various obstacles that deafen our ears to God’s voice. One obstacle we face is the noise of life; noise that can drown out the voice of God to us.  Another challenge to our hearing God is the fear we have that God will call us to be different than we are. Not knowing what God may say to us if we were to enter a time of intense listening keeps us comfortable in our status quo relationship with God. We are safer if we do not hear.

But another significant problem is that we staunchly maintain assumptions about what we think God says. The catch phrase that captures this sentiment goes something like this; “The Bible says it, so that settles it.” The assumption behind this way of thinking is that our way of reading scripture is always correct, and the interpretations we have maintained can never be challenged or altered. 

While we must take scripture seriously in our act of hearing God, and the sacred text of the Bible should form a basis for the Christian's faith and life, clinging to our assumptions about what the Bible says can prevent our hearing God and can lead us to continue our cultural and political ideologies that ignore what God may actually be speaking to us.

Jesus himself faced such attitudes and he challenged them by saying, “You have heard it said, but I say to you.” While Jesus was not negating scripture, he was offering new meaning and understanding; a new way of understanding and hearing God in the here and the now. This way of listening embraces the past of God’s revelations, but also looks for what God is saying in the present. 

Thus, we must not treat scripture as a stagnant text that reiterates our culturally transmitted presuppositions about God. Rather, we must reverently approach the text with open ears, hearts, and minds, allowing God to challenge our way of thinking; even change our way of understanding scripture itself.

One significant way of allowing God to challenge our way of thinking is to listen to others. Listening to what others say about God and life, particularly those who are of a different faith, can help to test and shape our own way of thinking to the extent that though we may not change many of our ideas, we can at least value how others have heard God speak to them. Allowing the divine in someone else speak to the divine in us can help us hear God more fully.

A personal story may help clarify why I think listening to different people is necessary for our hearing God. Several years ago an African-American gentlemen came to my home asking to do some work around the house. He and I had many conversations. He could not read and he was often in and out of jail. He and I came from completely different worlds, and yet when we talked, I could not help but hear God speaking to me. Indeed, he represented the voice of God to me more than most sermons I have heard.

But this should not surprise me at all. A careful look at the life of Jesus shows us very clearly that he heard God in the voices of those forgotten by the world. While the religious establishment held onto their assumptions about what God had said, Jesus was hearing the new Word of God through the voices of those outside that establishment; those who struggled to live life as God intended. Thus, Jesus was not simply the bearer of God’s truth, he was also the receiver of God’s truth; a truth shaped by his listening to others.

In hearing again the story of Advent and Christmas, may we silence the noise of our lives, turn away from our fear of what God has to say to us, and hear God, not through listening to our own assumptions about what the story says and means, but through the voices of pain and suffering that God continues to hear.

“Let anyone who has ears to hear, listen.”

Friday, December 1, 2017

Advent is a Season of Waiting on God

This coming Sunday marks the beginning of the Christian calendar with the start of Advent. The word Advent comes from the Latin meaning “to come”, and the season that bears this title consists of the four Sundays before Christmas that look with anticipation to the coming of Christ. While we observe this season as a time of looking forward to the celebration of Christ’s birth at Christmas, the practice of Advent each year is also focused on our faith and hope in what God is preparing for our future: “Behold, I am making all things new” (Revelation 21:5).

As we enter into this holy season, I want to focus my next four columns on four particular words that capture the essence of the season of Advent. While Christians have traditionally focused on the themes of hope, peace, joy, and love, important themes as they are, I would like to glean another set of ideas from the opening of the first Gospel to be written, the Gospel of Mark.

Although Mark does not say anything about the birth of Jesus, as do Matthew and Luke, this does not mean that Mark is without an Advent theme. Moreover, a careful look at Mark’s prologue produces some very important spiritual practices for our renewal during this season of Advent. These practices are: waiting, hearing, repenting, and believing. We will consider the practice of waiting first.

The opening of Mark’s narrative situates the story of Jesus in the context of the past; Israel’s history of exile, and God’s promise of redemption and liberation. Although all the statements that Mark attributes to the prophet Isaiah cannot be found in Isaiah, the intention of the Gospel narrator is to pick up God’s promises of the past spoken through Isaiah in order to declare the new work that God was doing in the present as the fulfillment of those promises. In the thought of the Gospel’s author, the theme of a New Exodus, which was prevalent in Isaiah’s prophecies, was now being realized in the coming of God in the person of Jesus.

But the fulfillment of this promise comes only after God’s people had experienced a long period of waiting. Indeed, a remnant of God’s faithful continued to wait and believe, hoping to experience the realization of God’s promise of redemption. In their minds, God was the only one who could act to accomplish God’s promises, and the waiting of God’s people was an act of faith and hope in the God who they believed would affect that which they had not experienced, but which God had surely promised.

In our nanosecond oriented world, we find it difficult to wait. We are extremely uncomfortable with delayed satisfaction, and we make every effort to achieve and obtain quick, but often fleeting, ways of gratifying our lives. We realize we hunger, but we fail to realize that our deepest hunger cannot be satisfied by those momentary pleasures. Our deepest longings will only be satisfied by the renewal of God, who is continually making things new, but perhaps not at the speed we would desire. And, thus we must wait.

Yet, waiting on God is not like waiting in line at the store or waiting for an appointment. Waiting on God is like a child waiting to open presents on Christmas morning. There is hope and expectation, along with the assurance that though she may not know what is wrapped in the Christmas paper, she does know the one who gives the gift and she knows that the gift is the expression of the giver’s love. While we wait on God, we do not wait in fear and anxiety of what might come in the future; we wait with faith and hope in the God who holds the future.

In our waiting, however, we do not separate ourselves from the reality of a creation under chaos. Rather, we wait with creation, and we suffer with those who suffer, proclaiming the gospel through service and healing until God’s final redemption. In doing so, we do not deny the reality of suffering and injustice, nor do are we complacent about suffering and injustice, but we work as a means of confronting the suffering and injustice of our world with the realization that they hold no eternal reign over us.

But more than anything, waiting on God is a time of preparation. Just as Jesus commanded his disciples to watch and pray in the garden as a time of preparation, so too God demands that we watch and pray while we wait. Through our time of waiting, we are preparing to experience God’s renewal as our lives of disorientation are continually oriented toward God’s future hope. And through our time of preparation, as we wait with faithfulness, we can learn to perceive and embrace God’s work in the present as we continue to look for the horizon of God’s blessings.

The period of Advent is a season in which we celebrate what God has done in the incarnation of Jesus. But it is also a time in which we wait on God to do something new in our lives, something we have yet to experience. Advent is a time of hope, anticipation and waiting. Yet, through our waiting we work, watch, and pray as we prepare for the coming God, the one who is making all things new.

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Flawed Heroes: A Reformation Day Reflection

Today marks the 500th anniversary of the start of the Protestant Reformation. Reformation Day is the day that commemorates a little known German monk, Martin Luther, who is supposed to have posted his infamous Ninety-Five Theses on a church door in Wittenberg on this date in 1517, an act that was a challenge to the Roman Catholic authority, particularly the authority of the pope, and the beginnings of the Modern World.

Many Christians in the West, particularly in the United States, identify with some branch of the Protestant Church, now considered, along with Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy, as a branch of the larger Christian religion.

But, as we Protestants remember and celebrate the 500th anniversary of Reformation Day, along with those we honor as the Reformers, we should be reminded that although these historical figures’ actions provide us with the faith we now embrace, they were indeed flawed human beings who may not be as heroic as we imagine them to be.

For example, although historians credit Luther with starting the Protestant Reformation, and we consider his brave stance against the overreaching authority of the papacy as a hallmark of deep conviction and courage, we should not neglect the historical reality that Luther was an anti-Semite. It is true that Luther perhaps sided with the Jewish people of Europe against the Roman Catholic Church, but once they did not embrace his Christianity, he spewed all kinds of derogatory and hate-filled speech about them, referring to them as “blind” and “stupid fools”, and he equated them with the devil.

Luther also sided with the ruling authorities in their attempts to squash the peasant rebellions of the 16th century, which may have possibly been influenced by Luther’s own views about the freedom of a Christian. In his Against the Robbing and Murdering Hordes of Peasants, Luther accuses the peasants of not taking their God-ordained place with the structure of God’s planned society in which the kings ruled by divine right. Luther supported the use of brute force against these peasants, arguing that this is the only method by which they will be stopped.

John Calvin, the great father of the Reformed Tradition, was also significantly flawed. For one thing, his theological teachings, which continue to influence various Christian traditions, were centered on the sovereignty of God as some sort of capricious and arbitrary God, who Calvin argued “predestined” some for salvation and others for damnation. Calvin’s view of God leaves little to no room for human freedom and for human goodness; all of eternity has been predetermined by God.

But, perhaps Calvin’s most flawed action was his support for the death of Michael Servetus, a Spanish theologian accused of anti-trinitarianism and anti-infant baptism. Servetus had escaped to Geneva where Calvin was, and while attending a sermon being delivered by Calvin, Servetus was recognized and arrested. Calvin gave his support for Servetus to be burned at the stake as a heretic. Calvin referred to his teachings as "execrable blasphemies", and he stated that, “Whoever shall maintain that wrong is done to heretics and blasphemers in punishing them makes himself an accomplice in their crime and guilty as they are.”

John Knox, the great Scottish Reformer, whose house I walked by several times and visited on a couple of occasions, and whose statue stands in the court yard of New College, and in whose church I often sat in still reflection, was also no saint. In his, The First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous Regiment of Women, a misogynistic treatise against Mary, Queen of Scots, Knox refers to women as blind, weak, mad, and foolish, and he asks, “How can woman be the image of God, seeing (says he) she is subject to man, and has none authority, neither to teach, neither to be witness, neither to judge, much less to rule or bear empire?” 

There are, of course, others among the Reformers that could serve as examples of those we often consider heroes of the Protestant faith, but who say and do things we would consider abhorrent. Moreover, we could certainly point to many atrocities performed in the name of the Christian faith by the Medieval Church before the Reformation. So, on the one hand, we can perhaps applaud the boldness and courage of the Reformers like Luther, Calvin, and Knox, whose actions changed forever western civilization and Christendom, but at the same time remember that they are severely flawed heroes.

Perhaps having this perspective will help us see our own flaws as we make Christian history for tomorrow’s believers.

Monday, August 28, 2017

Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community?

This is the text of my sermon given on Sunday, August 27, 2017 at First Presbyterian Church in Monticello, Arkansas. It was given as a second followup sermon responding the events in Charlottesville and on the day before the 54th anniversary of the March on Washington and Dr. King's "I Have a Dream Speech".

             For those of you who were here last week, you heard my sermon response to the events that took place in Charlottesville. For those of you who were not here, you can read that sermon on my Facebook page. As I mentioned in my sermon last week, I would follow up with more thoughts concerning this today. 

            The title of my sermon this morning is not original; I have taken it from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s 1967 book, entitled, Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community?

In the first chapter of the book, Dr. King describes the state of the Civil Rights Movement in America and the state of white America’s acceptance of African Americans a year after the Voting Rights Act.  He asserts:

            “With Selma and the Voting Rights Act one phase of development in the civil rights revolution came to an end. A new phase opened, but few observers realized it or were prepared for its implications.  For the vast majority of white Americans, the past decade—the first phase—had been a struggle to treat the Negro with a degree of decency, not of equality.  White America was ready to demand that the Negro should be spared the lash of brutality and coarse degradation, but it had never been truly committed to helping him out of poverty, exploitation or all forms of discrimination.  The outraged white citizen had been sincere when he snatched the whips from the Southern sheriffs and forbade them more cruelties.  But when this was to a degree accomplished, the emotions that had momentarily inflamed him melted away.  White Americans left the Negro on the ground and in devastating numbers walked off with the aggressor.  It appeared that the white segregationist and the ordinary white citizen had more in common with one another than either had with the Negro.”[i]

Dr. King captures so pointedly what I believe continues to be the great sin of our world.  In these insightful and prophetic remarks, King offers to us a portrait of the repetitive state of humanity that is blinded by the promotion of exclusion.  Certainly we persist to live in a world that is saturated with oppression, hatred, and violence, and I shall have something to say about these sins.  But Dr. King also draws our attention to a sin that is subtler than the sin of hate and violence and the sin of exclusion.  We have been duped into believing that the answer to hatred and bigotry is tolerance.  The world has preached a message to us to be tolerant of others who are not like us, to bear with the differences we have and to live in peace with them by merely tolerating them.  But the downside of the tolerance issue is that it is very short sighted; it does not go far enough.  Sure, tolerance may be the better option in the face of those who continue to ward off the message of tolerance because, in their words, it weakens the so-called truth of the Christian message.  But those who preach tolerance to us are not promoting the fullness of God’s love in Christ.  The irony of the tolerance debate is that those who preach against tolerance and those who preach for it have made the same grave mistake.  One side considers tolerance an evil, while the other considers tolerance the answer.  One group preaches to us that tolerance is a construct of the pluralistic, and therefore, evil world.  The other side preaches to us that tolerance is the height of humanity’s progressiveness in social relationships.

            But what does the gospel say?  In a world where we are torn between two views of the world, one founded on exclusion and the other based on a very sappy yet undemanding dream, what does the gospel say to the church in our post-modern world as to how we are to relate to others of different color, ethnicity, nationality, sexual orientation, and other forms of division?  To use the title from Dr. King’s book quoted moments ago, Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community?

            The Apostle Paul, a Hebrew of Hebrews and a messenger of the gospel to the Gentiles, had to confront the issues that are so relevant for us today regarding how we relate to those who are both like us and different from us in ways that I have just mention.  Paul too dealt with the divisions that existed, mainly those that existed between Jew and Gentile, divisions that could not be explained by simple dislike of the other.  Indeed, the divisions that existed between Jew and Gentile during the first century are sarcastically mentioned by Paul in Ephesians 2.  The denigration of the Gentiles by the Jews is brought to the fore in Paul’s letter to the church at Ephesus as he states that these Gentiles were called the “uncircumcised” by those who are the “circumcised”.  The reference was not simply to a physical marker that made the two groups different from each other.  The designation was intended, when used by some Jews, to speak about the other in a dehumanising way; a method by which the name caller could vilify and demonise someone unlike himself.  This labelling of the other, which cannot simply be limited to the situation Paul seems to allude to here in Ephesians, is the out growth of much deeper and demonic beliefs that are built on fear and hatred of people who are not like us, who may not live like us, and who may not believe as we believe.  It is a claim to possess absolute truth and a claim to having developed the ideal culture and civilization—a claim that transgresses the biblical call to humility and service; it is sin.  It is the sin of exclusion.

            But we might offer a defense of our lives by claiming that we are not exclusive in our treatment towards others.  We might claim that we are more civil than our ancestors in relating to people who are different from us.  We might claim that we are now tolerant of others who are different in color, ethnicity, nationality, religion and lifestyle.  But if that is our claim, a claim to be tolerant, have we not stop short of the goal that Dr. King expresses in his statement?  No one doubts that Dr. King delighted in the fact that white Americans were being convinced that the brutality carried out against African Americans was immoral.  But in the words that I have read from his book, Dr. King is certainly lamenting the fact that this is not enough; it fell short of what it needed to be.  True victory, as I see Dr. King expressing it, is not in the removal of exclusion and the replacing it with tolerance.  Dr. King appears to be saying, at least implicitly, that tolerance must move beyond itself to embrace.  Some call for an abandonment of tolerance, while others call for an acceptance of tolerance, but the gospel of God in Christ calls us to move beyond mere tolerance to full and vulnerable embrace.

            So, the question we must ask ourselves is, “Has God called us to be exclusive, tolerant, or embracing?”  Are we to follow the prophets of division that call us to reject tolerance?  Or are we to follow the empty promises of the tolerance message?  Or, does the ministry of embrace hold the key for our faithfully living out our mission as God’s people?  To answer these questions, let us deal with both the sin of exclusion and the sin of tolerance so that we might expose the immorality of the one and the weakness of the other.  From there we will be able to grasp the biblical call to embrace one another and, perhaps more challenging, to embrace our enemies.

            In his 1996 monograph, Exclusion and Embrace, Yale theologian Miroslav Volf captures the essence of the biblical and theological ideas of exclusion and embrace.[ii]  In this book Volf offers a broad definition of exclusion that helps us see our own sinfulness of exclusion towards others who are not like us.  His broad definition is a tableau of exclusion that does not limit the sin of exclusion only to hateful actions done to others.  Indeed hatred and bigotry are part of it, and perhaps the most violent and repulsive.  But the sin of exclusion is the sin of all, and we stand here guilty with blood on our own hands if we have transgressed one part of this sin.  

            First, Volf points out that exclusion is evil, for perpetrators of exclusive viewpoints will seek to eliminate the other.  Whether we speak about the fundamentalists and radicals within Islam, Judaism, or Christianity, or the political demagogues, imperialists, or dictators on the world stage, elimination is certainly the expedient and ultimate goal of those who hold stringent and exclusive points of view.  The promotion of fear of the other and a dehumanising of those who are different serves these persons well as they are able to raise mob support to promote their fear of the other.  The only goal in the eyes of those of practice exclusion through elimination is, “The enemy must be destroyed.”

            Volf offers a second, but just as brutal, facet of exclusion when he designates exclusion as assimilation.  “We must make the other like us before they make us like them.”  Again, the momentum for this viewpoint is based on the vilification of the other through fear.  The belief is that our way of thinking and believing is better, more superior to everyone else, and therefore we must assimilate the other, the enemy, into our way of thinking, believing, and living.  This may seem reasonable enough to us, but behind this motive is again a sense of power and a desire to possess and control.

            And, should they not become like us, Volf suggests that there exists a third option to carry forth an exclusive agenda: Domination.  If we cannot eliminate the other, and we cannot assimilate the other, then our option is to dominate them.  Through domination we force our own views and ways on the enemy.

            But sadly enough, while history has proven that the church has been guilty of all of these forms of exclusion, it is the fourth facet of Volf’s tapestry of which the church is most guilty: Abandonment.  A neglect for justice and peace, a turning away from the real needs of the oppressed, and a quote/unquote spiritual message of evangelism that takes the place of ministering to real world needs is the darkness of the church’s sin of abandonment.  We have practiced exclusion by abandonment because we feel that it is not as bad as the other three and because we do not want to get our hands dirty with the real work of being the crucified body of Christ.  We find comfort in neglect.  Like the priest and Levite who walk by the man lying on the road between Jericho and Jerusalem, we have abandoned the world and its real needs because we are too wrapped up in our own agendas of religiosity.  We have abandoned the call of Scripture to embrace others as God in Christ has embraced us.  We may or may not fall into the first three sins of exclusion, but we are most assuredly guilty of exclusion through abandonment.  And because of this, we walk off hand in hand with the oppressors, leaving the oppressed on the side of the road.

            So where does the answer to the sin of exclusion rest?  Is it tolerance or the rejection of tolerance?  Should we hide behind a false gospel that calls us to separate ourselves from those not like us, which only reinforces our stereotypes of others and increases our hatred?  Or should we accept the comfort of tolerance, knowing that tolerance merely calls us to grit our teeth and bear with others not like us, but keeps us at a distance from them?  The biblical answer lies neither in abandonment of tolerance nor the reluctant acceptance of tolerance.  The biblical answer lies in the activity of God in Christ, who has come into the world not to cast us aside, and surely not to tolerate us, but to embrace us in Christ. You see we have forgotten all too often that we stand with the world in solidarity, solidarity in sin.  Certainly there is evil in the world, and evil needs to be called evil.  But we who consider ourselves good, and even Christian, cannot claim innocence.  The blood of the Son of God drips from our hands, and our exclusion through either elimination, assimilation, domination or abandonment of others makes us all the more guilty of the evil that takes place in our world.  And because of this solidarity we cannot rightfully stand in judgment of others, no matter what we may believe about them, and we cannot exclude them from community in an attempt to exclude ourselves from guilt. 
            How shall we proceed, then, as the body of Christ called to be the light of the world?  If the liberal proclamation of tolerance is short sighted, and the fundamentalist proclamation of exclusion is anti-gospel, where does the mission of the church lie?  It lies in the modelling embrace of God.

            I certainly cannot take credit for this model, for it comes forth first in Scripture and has been interpreted by many scholars and theologians.  And here I turn once again to Volf’s book, Exclusion and Embrace for he says it better that what I could say.  But I shall also add my two cents worth to the mix.

            If exclusion is sin, and tolerance itself is sin, then embrace is indeed our only faithful option.  But can we find a motivation for embrace and the strength to embrace those whom we may see as different and even those we call our enemies?  Does the story of Jesus model for us a real story which we can live out in the world in order to stomp out both the message of exclusion and the message of tolerance?  Indeed it does.  Jesus offers to us practices that are fundamental for our being the inclusive body of Christ in the world. He models and teaches that we must practice love, service, humility, forgiveness, peace, and welcome.

            What is our response to the gospel message of inclusion?  Will we bunker down and remain exclusive and prejudice towards those not like us and towards our enemies?  Will we be duped by the attractive, but shortsighted message of tolerance?  Or, will we faithfully follow the Crucified One and embrace the world through love, forgiveness, humility, peace and witness?  We are left to respond to God’s Word.

In the final pages of Dr. King’s book, Where Do We Go from Here, we find these words:

            “We are now faced with the fact that tomorrow is today.  We are confronted with the fierce urgency of the now.  In this unfolding conundrum of life and history there is such a thing as being too late.  Procrastination is still the thief of time.  We still have a choice today: non-violent coexistence or violent coannihilation.  This may well be mankind’s last chance to choose between chaos and community.”[iii]

And so, the time is now.  We as the church, the redeemed people of God who have been embraced by God in Christ, must redeem the time that has been lost to exclusion, oppression, hatred, and violence.  We must repent of our sin of exclusion and our sin of mere tolerance.  We must be prepared and empowered by God’s Spirit to embrace others, even others who are not like us, even others whose lifestyles are not like ours, even others we call our enemies.  In so doing, we live out the power of the crucified Lamb of God by expelling exclusion and chaos and by embracing all people in what Dr. King called the Beloved Community. 

[i] Martin Luther King, Jr. Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or Community? (New York: Harper & Rom, 1967), 3-4.
[ii] Miroslav Volf, Exclusion and Embrace: A Theological Exploration of Identity, Otherness, and Reconciliation (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1996), esp. 74-77.
[iii] King,  Where Do We Go From Here?, 191

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Can Faith and Doubt Coexist? Or Why Does ‘Doubting Thomas’ Get a Bad Rap?

One of my favorite quotes comes from Thomas Merton, "A person is known better by his questions than his answers." I love Merton’s statement because these words sum up my understanding of religious faith. Faith is not about answers. Faith is about questions.

This way of thinking, for some odd reason, comes natural to me. In fact, those who know me very well, know that I am adventurous when it comes to asking questions about the Bible, theology, and the practice of faith. For me, no question is off limits. I am not satisfied with the idea that if the Bible says it, then that settles it, for the questions are too numerous and too serious. And, let’s be honest, the Bible could be wrong.

That’s why I like Thomas, not Merton, I like him too, but the Thomas who was Jesus’ disciple, the one we call “Doubting Thomas”. When I read the story of Thomas from John 20, I resonate with this figure whose nickname, unfortunately, has become synonymous with all those who cannot believe without proof. 

But was Thomas such a bad guy? Were his doubts about Jesus’ resurrection an expression of his lack of faith? Was Jesus condemning Thomas for his doubts? I am inclined to say no to all three of these questions.

But I think the most refreshing thing for me about Thomas is that he expresses what it means to be human. We are prone to doubts and confusion simply because we are finite human beings.  We are inclined not to believe certain things simply because our minds are so grounded in our experience as a way to gain certain knowledge. And so, it is only natural for us to be skeptical about certain things, especially those things that seem to be far fetched ideas. And religious ideas can be very far fetched.

The Incredulity of Saint Thomas by
Caravaggio (Sort of) (c. 1601)

I’ll be completely honest, but I hope you will excuse my honesty at this point. When I compare the various religious traditions and what they say about God, a serious look at Christianity suggests that our closely held beliefs are about as crazy as you can get. 

Seriously. Think about it. Is it entirely reasonable to believe in a God who had a son, who this God had killed so that the sins of humanity, committed against that God, could be forgiven? I don’t really buy into that atonement theory anymore, but my point is that what we call traditional, orthodox Christianity has longed held these beliefs.

But we could push this even further by talking about the existence of God in the first place. For centuries philosophers have argued for the existence of God from a rational position. Their classical arguments are well structured and nuanced. 

But even though these philosophical arguments are very sophisticated, they cannot prove that God does indeed exist. In fact, although it is easy for our culture to despise atheists and agnostics for their lack of belief in God, the reality is that the arguments against the existence of God that atheists propose are perhaps as convincing than those that argue for God’s existence.

The point I am trying to make is that faith is often a tough thing; at least it is for me. I wish I could stop the questions and simply just say I believe. But, unlike many folks I know, I cannot. I have actually heard people say that it is not a matter of not being able to believe, it is a matter of not wanting to believe. But this is false. Many people want to believe, including me, but sometimes those beliefs are not possible.

I cannot force myself to believe everything just because the Bible says it or because Christian tradition teaches it. I can certainly accept many things from the Bible and from the traditional teachings of the church, but I also have my doubts, and often these doubts are numerous and quite intense. Indeed, there are days that I doubt that God really does exist, and for that matter, what does it mean to say that God “exists”, or that prayer does “work”, or that Jesus was raised from the dead, and even if rising from the dead means a physical resurrection.

I came to a place in my life many years ago when I decided to be honest with myself on matters of faith. I decided that I would not just keep saying I believed in God or Jesus or certain things about either God or Jesus. For me, faith is not an absolute belief or knowledge that God exists, that Jesus rose from the dead, or that everything happens for a reason. And, I am particularly doubt stricken when I see the suffering in our world.

Perhaps what really does it for me is the way that we think of God in very personal and individualistic terms. I am not saying that God is not personal, or that God cannot be described in personal terms. What I am saying is that there are views of God that, in my mind, actually fly in the face of believing in the God many Christians claim exists. 

For example, I have heard people say they prayed about things such as getting a certain job and they got it, and then they attribute this to God, when at the same time thousands, even tens of thousands are killed by a tsunami. I have a huge problem with this God of partiality. Why would I want to believe in a God who is concerned that my happiness is achieved, but who seems to be unconcerned with the deaths of thousands?

But that is just one of those quirky questions that is always at the forefront of my mind. That is why Merton’s quote resonates with me, as does “Doubting Thomas’” , well, doubt. I prefer to live with the questions rather than the answers. Doubt keeps us from certaintly, which opens up the life of faith. Thus, doubt and faith must coexist.