St. Thomas the Apostle
Homily for Mass at the Rogue Valley Manor
December 21, 2022
The Rev. Fr. Tony Hutchinson, Homilist
Habakkuk 2:1-4; Psalm 126; Hebrews 10:35-11:1; John 20:24-29
My wife of 47 years, Elena, died a year ago on December 6. This holiday is proving to be a raw emotional time for me. It has always been hard for me to believe in any life after death, though sweet moments of clarity and spiritual peak experiences have taught me to trust and accept that though such a belief might appear just too good to be true, it is true all the same. The problem is not with the world as it is, but with my heart.
Today is the feast day of St. Thomas the Apostle. In the West we know him as “Doubting Thomas,” the one who said, "I won’t believe it until I touch it!” But the Eastern Church remembers Thomas for his confession "My Lord and my God," and sees in him a model of faith. The full story is found in John 20:19-29. Since it is about doubt, experience, and faith, it is a good story to remember just before Christmas.
I think we often get this story wrong: when Jesus says “Blessed are you Thomas, because you believed when you saw; but more blessed still are they who do not see and still believe,” we think that this means he is encouraging mindless acceptance of someone else’s word on something and belittling getting our own experience and understanding on it. Not so. When Jesus says “believe” here, he means, “give your heart to,” “be faithful,” or “trust.” Thomas is blessed because he trusts after experience. Jesus adds that those who can manage trust even before experience, that is, those whose basic default position is trust and openness, have a deeper form of blessedness.
But that doesn’t mean blind submission to authority should trump reason and heuristic use of doubt. It doesn’t mean that personal testimony and experience are less valuable than taking someone else’s word. Having one’s own experience, and knowing and understanding mystery and beauty through personal knowledge is a profound real kind of understanding. Believing someone else’s word for something is a pale imitation. Note in the story that Thomas in the end doesn’t have to touch the wounds. It is just seeing and hearing Jesus that brings him joyfully to his knees. It is openness of heart where blessedness lies, where God can grab hold of us and change us, and it is this that trumps experience. And it in itself is deep, moving experience.
Earlier in John’s Gospel, Thomas told Jesus, “Lord, we do not know where you
are going. How can we know the way [to follow you]?” To this Jesus said,
“I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except
through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. (John
14:1-7) When Thomas says, “My Lord and my God,” it is clear that he
now knows the Father and sees him through Jesus.
Later tradition has Thomas going to India (the Kerala district) and founding the Church there. He is said to have suffered martyrdom in Madras by a spear thrust. This has particular resonance, since it was the spear wound in Jesus’ side that Thomas had wanted to touch.
John Bell and the Iona Community set words about this story to the traditional Scots Gaelic tune Leis an Lurghainn, and called it Tom’s Song:
Where they were, I’d have been;
What they saw, I’d have seen;
What they felt, I’d have shown,
If I knew what they’d known.
Refrain
“Peace be with you,” he said,
“Take my hand, see my side.
Stop your doubting, believe
And God’s spirit receive.”
So I made my demand
That unless, at first hand,
I could prove what they said,
I’d presume he was dead.
All their tales I called lies
Till his gaze met my eyes;
And the words I’d rehearsed
Lost their force and dispersed.
When I stammered “My Lord!”
He replied with the word,
“Those who live in God’s light
Walk by faith, not by sight.”
Some, like me, ask for proof,
Sit and sneer, stand aloof.
But belief which is blessed
Rests on God, not a test.
As we go into the celebration of the incarnation of God in the birth of Jesus, fully one of us yet fully God in all ways, let us have open hearts, and trust. Let us take hold of the risen Lord’s hand, take faith to heart, and with hope transcending this world’s threats and fears, including death itself, come joyfully to the manger cradle of our beloved Lord there with his mother Mary, our Lady.
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