Do you think the twelve disciples ever wondered why Jesus chose them?
Perhaps some of them thought they knew. When they were arguing about who was the greatest, for example, can’t we just hear Peter, “Well, you know Jesus chose me because somebody had to be the one to actually step out there and go first on everything; I’m the greatest.” And the others would laugh, “Yeah, Simon, you stepped out of the boat first and sank right in, didn’t you?”
But how many are there among the twelve whose names we barely remember? Did they have any idea why Jesus chose them? Matthew, Mark, and Luke each take the time to list them as a set of twelve names; the gospel of John simply talks about “the Twelve” as if we’re supposed to know who they are. Simon whom Jesus named Peter is always listed first, along with his brother Andrew and the other brothers, James and John. Then there’s Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, another James, and another Simon. There’s Judas Iscariot, who betrayed Jesus, and then a disciple named either a different Judas or Thaddaeus.1 And that of course leaves Thomas…
I don’t know why many of the disciples were chosen, but I think Thomas was chosen for his insight and his faithfulness. We’ve all probably heard a certain title applied to Thomas, but today I’d like to suggest a different one: Thomas the True. Out of all the disciples, Thomas is set apart by being ahead of the others in discerning the truth. And Thomas is presented, according to the norms of Jesus’ day, as being especially faithful to his Lord Jesus. So let’s call him Thomas the True. Thomas sees the truth, and Thomas is faithful and true to Jesus. Would you believe that?
Let’s start by reviewing Thomas’ other appearances. Thomas’ name appears exactly one time each in Matthew, Mark, and Luke–only when the Twelve disciples are listed. That’s it. But Thomas’ name appears seven times in the Gospel of John. So there are a few more stories to work with.
First, when Jesus and the disciples are on the other side of the Jordan, knowing that there are plots to kill Jesus, the other disciples try to prevent him from returning to Bethany after Lazarus’ death. Jesus insists that he has to go. And Thomas speaks up: “Let us also go, that we may die with him” (John 11:162). Let’s go die with him. That shows insight about what’s coming, and bold faithfulness not just to follow but to invite and challenge the others to do the same.
Then, in the farewell discourse, Jesus’ longest speech in John, as he is offering the disciples final instructions before being separated from them by his arrest, Jesus is interrupted by three different disciples. In a casual reading, these three might seem to speak on a similar level, but Jesus responds to them as though it is uniquely Thomas’ question that comes from faithfulness and leads to insight.
First, when Jesus has said that the disciples cannot follow where he is going, Peter asks, “Lord, why can I not follow you now? I will lay down my life for you,” and Jesus has to burst that bubble, saying, “before the cock crows, you will have denied me three times” (John 13:37, 38). Jesus knows that Peter’s faithfulness is not as great as he thinks it is.
A little later on, Jesus tells the disciples he is preparing a place for them, and that “‘you know the way to the place where I am going.’ Thomas said to him, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?’ Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me’” (14:4-6). Thomas’ question led Jesus into sharing rich, deeper teaching, rather than a rebuke. It seems that Thomas was genuinely interested in following where Jesus is going…as foreshadowed in his earlier line, “let us go, that we may die with him” (11:16).
Then, as Jesus continues teaching and explains that if we have known him, we have known and have seen God the Father, Philip butts in, “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied” (14:8). Jesus’ answer chides Philip, and Jesus has to repeat himself: “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (14:9).
So Thomas, in the additional stories that only the Gospel of John shares with us, stands out as an insightful and faithful follower of Jesus, even among the Twelve. And yet the story following the resurrection is the one we most remember about him, and folks have given him the name of “Doubting Thomas.” Isn’t that how we’ve always heard it?
On Sunday evening–Sunday the day of Jesus’ resurrection, the day where Mary Magdalene spoke with Jesus risen from the dead as she was at the tomb–on that day, the other disciples had locked themselves inside a house in fear. Jesus came and stood among them, and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he showed them his hands and his side. And then the disciples rejoiced (John 20:19-20, emphasis added). All these disciples apparently had to be shown the places where holes had been punched in Jesus’ hands and side before they rejoiced.
Jesus gave these disciples a mission, not unlike the way that he had already given Mary Magdalene her mission to inform the disciples: “Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’ When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained’” (20:21-24).
So what did these other disciples do? Did they run out into all the world, forgiving as many sins as they possibly could? No; we hear only that they told Thomas, “we have seen the Lord” (20:25). Not, “we have seen the Lord, and now we have the Holy Spirit!” Not, “we have seen the Lord, and now we can forgive sins just as he did!” Not, “we have seen the Lord, and we have to tell everyone about this!” In fact, one week later, they’re still shut up inside the house with the doors locked (20:26). Perhaps Thomas is right to doubt that kind of witness: if Jesus was raised from the dead, why should these other ten still be quaking in fear for their lives?
But there’s another level to how this story might be received that matters here too: in the ancient world, it would have been expected that the more loyal and faithful a servant or loved one was, the more rigorously they might demand proof from a sign that only their true master can provide.3 As I discussed this idea with our music director, still in college, before preaching on the Thomas story, I found that this idea was not so esoteric. He was familiar with the concept, having read the Odyssey: when Odysseus returns home, the handmaid who raised him has to identify him by his scar, and yet Odysseus’ wife is praised for her faithfulness when she demands even further signs after that. The more faithful and loyal someone is, the more proof they require of the claim of identity–in something like the way that a close relative of a hiker lost for a month might want more than just a newspaper headline to let themselves believe that their loved one has been found alive. They might want to actually see and touch their loved one to really believe that they are truly alive.
Thomas the True, Thomas the insightful and faithful servant of Jesus Christ, isn’t going to take the word of ten guys hiding behind locked doors. That does not convince him that Jesus is back from the dead, because if Jesus were raised from the dead…
Well, let’s let Thomas show us what that would mean. Thomas insists that he needs to put his finger in the marks to know that it is really his Lord. He doesn’t say, “I need to hear Jesus’ voice,” or even, “I need Jesus to call my name”–what it took for Mary Magdalene to know that Jesus was raised. He doesn’t say, “I need to see this person perform signs and wonders like Jesus could.” No, for Thomas, the most significant point of identity were the scars from the cross; those marks would be undeniable proof that the same one who died was now risen. And Jesus offers that proof to Thomas, though we’re not actually told whether Thomas indeed put his hand in the side like he said he would need to (John 20:25-27).
Instead, Thomas’ answer reveals what must have been at stake in his mind this whole time: “My Lord and my God!” (20:28) Thomas, when he is convinced that Jesus has died on a cross and yet is alive again before him, is the first of anyone to declare that the human being before him, Jesus of Nazareth, is his God.
I’ve been reminding the congregation that John told us in the very prologue that the Word of God who was with God and who was God, became flesh. But that prologue was only written after many many years of reflection on the whole story of Jesus. John, in fact, was probably the last of the Gospels to be written down. And that grand introduction was probably one of the last sections to be composed, seeing as it wasn’t anyone’s direct recollection of the stories as they happened.
We could only get to the theology of that prologue by following the train of thought that it seems, at this point in the story, that Thomas is “conducting” well ahead of anyone else. My Lord and my God! Do we realize just how much it would take for Thomas, a faithful Jew, to identify a human being standing in front of him as God? That connection seems so obvious to us–after all, we read the prologue, and we’ve heard Jesus saying all along that if we’ve seen him, we’ve seen God the Father. And yet, there is no other direct declaration in all of scripture where someone face-to-face with Jesus identifies him as God. Son of God, sure; lots of phrases and titles that point out Jesus is really close with God. But Thomas alone looks at Jesus the human being and recognizes that he is face-to-face with God, the creator of all that is.
Thomas didn’t come to that conclusion by avoiding all doubt. Nor did Thomas come to that conclusion apart from faithfulness to Jesus. Instead, Thomas was faithful enough to follow Jesus back to Jerusalem knowing that death awaited, and Thomas asked questions of Jesus, seeking further understanding. Thomas had to have been wrestling already with questions about what Jesus’ crucifixion meant. Although it’s speculation, I can only imagine that on the first Sunday night, when the others were hiding behind locked doors, Thomas was out, possibly with Mary and the women, looking for answers and investigating the story that Jesus had risen!
Jovino de Guzman Miroy, a professor in the Philippines, points out that in certain expressions of Christianity, “There is a general tendency among them to think that doubt is wrong; but only doubting of a specific kind—that is mistrust toward religious belief; on the other hand, it is encouraged to suspect reason, science, and philosophy.”4 The title “Doubting Thomas” conveys this negative view, in as much as it shames Thomas for his doubt. Nonetheless, he actually argues that we should be teaching students (and I’ll say in our case, any disciple of Jesus) to have the kind of doubt that Thomas does. He says, “Thomas exercised a skepticism that did not impede a dynamic confession of the divinity and lordship of Jesus.”5 The repression of questions and uncertainty is more likely to lead to the fragile convictions of Peter, happy to proclaim Jesus as Messiah when all is well, but unprepared to give faithful answers in the high priest’s courtyard, when Jesus is on trial. With the right quality of doubt, (unlike Peter’s fragile certainty that turned into threefold denial, and unlike the skepticism of Jesus’ opponents, which was actually grounded in “a priori” certainty that Jesus must be wrong) Thomas’ doubt was a healthy skepticism that allowed him to come to the truth, and not just believe but live out the significance of Jesus raised from the dead.
So even with his doubts, I’m convinced that Thomas the True might have been called among the disciples precisely for his insight and his faithfulness. If Jesus seems to have appreciated those qualities, our congregations could learn a few lessons from them as well.
First of all, we need some folks who are going to speak about their doubts, ask hard questions, and share honestly about their uncertainty–even about things central to our faith. I think the other disciples had a lot to learn from Thomas’ example in those things. When some are brave enough to share their doubts with the group, making space to embrace our sisters and brothers in their doubt and their questions will be so important for their continuing journeys personally. But it also offers a lot to the body: it offers us all the chance to invite Jesus’ presence to be renewed among us, whether or not the answers hoped for ever manifest. It gives us all the chance to learn something in a new way–the way Thomas’ recognition of Jesus might have helped all the other disciples say, “Ah! Jesus is God…why didn’t I see that before?”
Then, when we really grasp the implications of these claims we make in church about God, the world, and one another, we need folks like Thomas to put those things into action. Remember, ten friends sitting behind closed doors couldn’t convince Thomas that they had seen their Risen Lord! If Jesus is alive, Thomas might have thought and has proven that death itself is being undone to make way for what God is now doing, then why are you still living in fear of death? But Thomas saw Jesus alive before him, and exclaimed, “My Lord and my God!” Think about it: He had already changed his entire way of worship, right there in one sentence. He was already doing something completely different, something that would not have been normal before.
I know that Acts is really written to be the companion scroll to the Gospel of Luke, but in the way that our scripture is arranged, it is only a few chapters from John 20 to Acts 2, where the new community in Jesus’ way is described like this: “All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved” (Acts 2:44-47). That is an image of a people whose entire sense of what responsible living meant was entirely transformed by Jesus’ resurrection and by receiving the Holy Spirit.
Yet, as a final lesson that we can learn from Thomas, this world needs folks who are ready to touch the scars. Quite often, doubt goes hand in hand with tragedy, trauma, and deep, deep sorrow, doesn’t it? Thomas asked for Jesus’ scars, not his voice or his miracles. So often, when already immersed in the pain of sorrow, we are not ready to also voice the doubts that we are afraid will be seen as shameful–we’re not sure anyone really wants to touch those wounds, and so we keep quiet. Let me paraphrase from the professor wishing to teach his students to doubt like Thomas, amending where I believe this advice should apply to all:
St. Thomas…was definitely immersed in the tragic sense of life. Palpable from the text is the misery that fuels his doubt. When [those seeking to follow Jesus] can feel their own sorrow, education is paying off. This means [our] questions have become rooted in [our] own stories. [Our] sorrow will demand to know and see and touch. If [members of our congregations] press to caress the wounds of people [in our own lives], who would dare berate them? When this happens, [our] capacity for doubt and inquiry have become agency and power…6
–the ability to respond to hurt and pain.
Jesus Christ, our Lord and our God, bears his scars even in resurrection life. Thomas the True–Thomas whose doubts showed his earnest seeking for insight, and his great faithfulness to his Lord–was the one who asked to touch those scars perhaps because he was the one who really understood what was at stake. When he encountered the risen Christ, he was ready to worship Jesus as God. And when we take up Thomas’ spirit, faithful and yet expressing doubt, perhaps we will be ready to touch our wounded world with the love of Jesus, our Lord and our God.
Caleb Kragt is a minister 2/3 time and 1/3 stay-at-home Dad. He and his wife Allie have just moved into their first house with kids age 3 and 6. Caleb and Irvin Heishman are co-pastors for the West Charleston Church of the Brethren in Tipp City, Ohio.
- Matthew 10:3 and Mark 3:18 refer to Thaddaeus; Luke 6:16 instead lists Judas son of James.
- Biblical quotations here and following from the NRSV.
- Stan Harstine, “Un-Doubting Thomas: Recognition Scenes in the Ancient World,” Perspectives in Religious Studies (January 2006: 435-447).
- Jovino de Guzmán Miroy, “Doubting Thomas and Contemporary Education,” Budhi: A Journal of Ideas and Culture XXV.1 (2021): 91–136.
- Ibid.
- Ibid.