He Qi, Doubting Thomas
“The Heart’s Direction”
Second Sunday of Easter (Year A)
16 April 2023
Homily Delivered the Mission Church of the Holy Spirit, Sutherlin OR
The Rev. Fr. Tony Hutchinson, SCP, Ph.D.
10
a.m. Sung Mass
Acts 2:14a, 22-32 ; 1 Peter 1:3-9 ; John 20:19-31 ; Psalm 16
God, give us hearts to feel and love,
take away our hearts of stone
and give us hearts of flesh. Amen.
I remember an exchange with my son David when he was six or seven. I had done something that had totally upset him, made him angry and caused him to accuse me of being unfair and trying to control him. I think I had bodily picked him up and put his diminutive body down in another place, safer and more convenient. But he would have none of that. He felt diminished and disrespected. I apologized even as I explained my reasons. A day or two later, I found myself having to do the same thing to David, dreading what his reaction would be. But this time, he was happy and thanked me. I asked him why the same act on my part was so horrible for him before but made him happy now. After a puzzled look as he for the first time recognized that these two actions were in fact one and the same, he said cautiously, “The other day you did it to keep me from doing what I wanted; today, to help me do what I wanted.”
Intention: what we hope to accomplish when we do something. It often changes our actions’ meaning and value. It leaks out whether we intend it to or not. Before my wife Elena’s death, I was her principal caregiver for 10 years. In caregiving I learned that putting on shoes gently and with kindness is a totally different act than simply cramming them on. One helps, the other often hurts. Lifting and doing transfers can be a gentle act, almost dancing. Or, when merely focused on getting the deed done, it can be what Elena and I used to call “potato-bagging.” One helps and is affirming; the other can mildly demean and sometimes outright frighten.
Because intentions are so important in defining an act, we often make the mistake of thinking that intentions can redeem bad behavior. “I meant well, and that’s what counts.” Not so. A proverb my mother used to quote regularly says it clearly: “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” I remember hearing one of President George W. Bush’s counselors defend to me going to war in 2003 against Iraq over what later turned out to be false claims about weapons of mass destruction. “Well, the President tries to be a good Christian and meant well. So it wasn’t wrong.” Though I knew the description of the President was true, I thought to myself, “Try telling that to the families of the 1 million or so Iraqis who died because of this war.” The road to Hell may well be paved with good intentions. But good intentions matter, all the same.
We often misunderstand the story of Thomas and the resurrected Jesus. We think that Thomas is a man who refuses the faith and demands proof instead. “Doubting Thomas” we call him. The Eastern Church, I think has a better take on the story when it looks at Thomas’ intentions and his declaration “My Lord and my God!” at the end of the story. For them, he is the first believer in the Holy Trinity.
Thomas is somewhat of an outlier. He is off by himself the first time Jesus appears. Note to self, Tony: don’t miss church meetings. You don’t know what magic might happen while you’re gone. But the other apostles seem to be extroverts, energized by being in the group. Thomas seems to prefer solitude. He also seems more honest than the rest in confronting his fears and doubts. “I don’t think I’ll be able to believe what you say here until I see it myself,” he says. Thomas’ doubt is a tool to help him process the unknown and the wonderful, not a blanket rejection.
You see, there are two different kinds of doubt, just as there are different kinds of actions, depending on our intentions.
One kind of doubt is a heuristic tool, an instrument to help us discover truth. As Abelard of Paris said, “Doubt is the start of inquiry. By inquiry, we discover truth!” Doubt as a tool of discovery is open, willing to learn new things. This is Thomas’ doubt, and it is a good thing. Note that Jesus, the next week, immediately does not say “Shame on you Thomas for doubting!” Rather, he says, “You wanted to see these scars on my hands? You wanted to put your hand in my side? Well—KNOCK YOURSELF OUT!” Later this week, we’ll see Earth Day, which celebrates the sciences. Science, when properly pursued, is a consistent and disciplined use of this first kind of doubt.
The other kind of doubt is a willful and stubborn rejection of truth, even as evidence piles up in front of us.
The one is open and affirming, the other is closed and negative.
Affirming doubt leads to assurance and faith. Denying doubt leads to exclusive nihilism and cranky partisanship.
The direction of the heart, our intention, is what makes the difference.
Jesus Mafa Project, Cameroon "Christ and Thomas"
In my experience, what matters most is not whether you are a believer or not, but what kind of heart you have. Is it open or closed? Does it seek something beyond itself or is it satisfied or stingy with what it has?
You have some believers who have open hearts and some who have closed hearts. And you have some unbelievers with open hearts and some with closed hearts.
Believers with cold, tightly closed hearts give faith and religion a bad name. They can be something very close to demons: inquisitors, guardians of morality and correct doctrine, holy warriors, who do horrible things to other people using God as a weapon on others. In the Gospels, the only people with whom Jesus regularly gets angry are the closed-hearted religious. To them he says, “Whores and traitors will get into the Kingdom of God before you will, because they at least recognize their need for God.”
Unbelievers with cold, tightly closed hearts—the militant godless—can be something close to monsters because they can do horrible things to others simply to protect their own position and prestige, or to build the utopia their ideology demands.
Believers with open hearts remain in awe of what they do not understand about God, what is unclear, and how far removed they are from Deity. As Paul says, “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (Gal. 5:22-23).
Unbelievers, even disbelievers, can remain open in their hearts, even if they cannot work a faith up for right now. An example of this is people in recovery in Twelve-Step programs who cannot profess faith in God, but yet “come to believe” in a power greater than themselves, a Higher Power, any higher power.
We can go from closed-heartedness to open-heartedness quickly, even with no immediate change in our opinions, and then back again. Openness is a habit of the heart, an orientation of the personality, not signing on to a particular idea.
The direction of our heart matters. We often abuse each other and ourselves by focusing on getting the task done, achieving the results we want, and turning out results. This is like me potato-bagging Elena before I learned that the task was to affirm her dignity and express love, not simply move her body weight. In church we often focus on results rather than the people we are working with or serving. This is a form of closed heartedness and it works great mischief in our common life and our own spiritual growth.
Again, it is a habit of the heart we are talking about here. There are habits of speech which help develop this habit of the heart. Here are three little habits of speech and action which I have tried to follow with greater or lesser success. They have helped me cultivate a more open heart that is less instrumental and more process oriented, less confrontational and more reconciling.
1) Never approach a person as a problem to be solved, or as a person who merely needs to fix a problem
of theirs. Always try to see problems as things that we hold in common. It is not me vs. you. It is not you’ve got to change and fix this. Rather it is: we share a goal and a vision. We face a common problem.
2) Do not use the expression “I know that ..., BUT …..” That little “but” sets up opposition, at least in a person’s heart and mind. Try instead, “I know that…, AND…..” The little word AND joins things, and does not set up opposition and exclusion.
3) When facing a real point of difference, do not use phrases that characterize the other person, set them up as other. Never dictate to the other person “You are (fill in adjective). You should (fill in remedial or penitential action.” Instead, use I phrases like “When you (VERB), I feel (ADJECTIVE), because …..” “You are so lazy” is bound to provoke a denial or a justification, or at least some vigorous defense, where the goal is to stay the same. But saying “When you put off doing your chores until it is too late, I feel neglected and taken advantage of, because I usually end up doing the job myself because I get tired of waiting” is not really subject to debate: how can the person argue that you don’t really feel that way, or that you don’t often end up doing the task yourself?
The fact is, we sometimes try to avoid conflict or dealing with difficult matters simply by disengaging with the other person. This we must not do. Though it may keep appearances of peace, it deadens our love. Jesus calls us to engage, never give up, and he calls us to do that in an inclusive, loving way.
The direction of our hearts is the difference between being open or closed, inclusive or exclusive, helpful or insulting. It is the difference between life-giving doubt and deadly doubt. It is the difference between constantly running from one argument, one confrontation, of one sort or with this person, to another one of a different sort and with another person, and walking a gentle, calm, and sometimes winding path where we engage with our fellows and grow in love and the ability to hear each other. Christian spiritual masters over the centuries have pointed out that this is at the heart of the Gospel. We turn over the results of our actions to God, and focus on process and not product. We see the person in front of us and beside us. We draw ever larger circles of “us” and simply turn our backs on the constant temptation to “other” people we have problems with.
Thanks be to God.
Tom's Song by John Bell of the Iona Community
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