Good ol' doubting Thomas. Wouldn't you hate to be remembered for your doubts? To doubt is to wonder if something is true. It does not mean you are convinced it is not true. We all doubt.
The other disciples huddled together in the upper room, but Thomas had crawled into a hole to lick his own winds after viewing the crucifixion. Off in his solitary confinement, he had missed the appearance of the resurrected Christ.
Yet when he finally sought the company of the community given faith by the resurrected Christ, his own wounds healed when he touched the wounds of Christ.
Jesus appeared in front of me a few weeks ago. Walking along an urban street on the way to a church conference, a homeless man approached me. He asked if I could spare some change so he could eat. As I pressed a few wadded bills into his hand, I felt a nail print.
As a young pastor, I entered 90-year-old Sadie's house as I heard her "Come in!" I finally found her in the bedroom, her shriveled body bent over thick, yellowed toenails. Arthritic hands could not fold around the clippers or apply enough pressure to get through the nails. My body in advanced pregnancy could not kneel, but I could sit. What a pair Sadie & I were, laughing at ourselves as I sawed on her toenails. As I clipped and sawed, I felt a hole that another type of nail had left.
As for his side, every time I hold a hurting person I feel that wound.
Like Thomas, I have had my doubts. Resurrection is a crazy, wild, unprecedented event that has never been repeated. I can't find evidence that it has happened when I try. When I forget about trying find proof and focus on the needs in my world that I have power through Christ to meet--then my belief resurfaces.
“The question is not to prepare but to live in a state of ongoing preparedness so that when someone who is drowning in the world comes to your world, you are ready to reach out and help." Henri Nouwen
The other disciples huddled together in the upper room, but Thomas had crawled into a hole to lick his own winds after viewing the crucifixion. Off in his solitary confinement, he had missed the appearance of the resurrected Christ.
Yet when he finally sought the company of the community given faith by the resurrected Christ, his own wounds healed when he touched the wounds of Christ.
Jesus appeared in front of me a few weeks ago. Walking along an urban street on the way to a church conference, a homeless man approached me. He asked if I could spare some change so he could eat. As I pressed a few wadded bills into his hand, I felt a nail print.
As a young pastor, I entered 90-year-old Sadie's house as I heard her "Come in!" I finally found her in the bedroom, her shriveled body bent over thick, yellowed toenails. Arthritic hands could not fold around the clippers or apply enough pressure to get through the nails. My body in advanced pregnancy could not kneel, but I could sit. What a pair Sadie & I were, laughing at ourselves as I sawed on her toenails. As I clipped and sawed, I felt a hole that another type of nail had left.
As for his side, every time I hold a hurting person I feel that wound.
Like Thomas, I have had my doubts. Resurrection is a crazy, wild, unprecedented event that has never been repeated. I can't find evidence that it has happened when I try. When I forget about trying find proof and focus on the needs in my world that I have power through Christ to meet--then my belief resurfaces.
“The question is not to prepare but to live in a state of ongoing preparedness so that when someone who is drowning in the world comes to your world, you are ready to reach out and help." Henri Nouwen
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