Seeing is Believing

A Message by Rob Sack

Crossroads International Fellowship

Pusan, South Korea

May 4, 2003

Text: John 20:19-31

The long night still seems endless. After following Jesus for three years, the events of the past couple of weeks seem like a nightmare. First the entry into Jerusalem. It was everything seemed so perfect; finally the world at large recognized Jesus for the savior that we had discovered him to be. Jesus spent that week teaching so many things, opening so many eyes. Making so many enemies.

Then on Thursday it all went wrong. First the soldiers crashing in on us in the garden of Gethsemane in the middle of the night. The noise, the confusion, I heard that Peter actually tried to use a sword to defend Jesus! Such a foolish fisherman, but braver than I. I ran into the darkness. The next few days I've managed to piece together by listening, and staying at the edges of the crowds.

And the trial. Romans are famous for their justice, but this time proved to be an exception. Usually only the most foul criminals are crucified, but it turns out that all you really need to make it happen is a mob, screaming for blood. I was there, but I couldn't bring myself to move close enough to see Jesus' face.

Crucifixion. To see My Lord bloody and dying on that horrible cross. I'm sorry. I still can't talk about that.

I needed some time to myself, and I was worried about being caught and tried by the Pharisees, so I didn't see anyone for a few days after Jesus was... After that Friday. When I came out again, I started hearing stories. Mary and Martha were convinced that Jesus was alive. Their story was pretty far out, but women can be hysterical when their world changes like that. But the other disciples also seemed to believe that Jesus was alive. I just didn't understand. Everyone knows that dead is dead. Yes, Jesus talked about living again, but those guys should know better than to think that Jesus meant our bodies live again. He clearly meant our spirits. It would have been wonderful to just let go and believe that my dead friend and mentor was alive again, but there is a word for people who believe in things that just aren't true: Crazy.

I don't know how much they had to drink in that closed room, but it seemed to me that they talked themselves into believing the thing that they wanted the most. When they talked to me, I could see that they were crazy. I told them to prove it to me. Let me see Jesus alive, with nail marks on his hands. Let me touch his wounds, and then I will believe. I didn't care if the tomb is empty. I could think of a dozen explanations for that without even trying.

I was so sure of myself. I had such faith in my eyes, in my hands. Even though Jesus had shown me the truth, over and over again: that some things just can't be explained by anything other than one word: Miracle. I couldn't believe this miracle. I wanted to, but I just couldn't.

And then that following Sunday we were all together, in a locked room. I was there, I know it was locked. Believe me, after listening to their stories, I checked out that room like a police detective at the scene of a crime.

Suddenly Jesus was there. He didn't come in through the locked door, or through the roof, or out from under the table. He was just suddenly there, where a minute before there had been nothing but empty space. He bid us all peace, then he talked to me. He told me to do three things. He said, "Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe."

I didn't have to touch him. I didn't have to reach out my hands. Because as soon as I saw him, I believed. It was like a light switch turning on in my soul. And I confessed that He was not only my Lord, but my God as well.

Jesus' next words were for me, but for the others as well, and for you: "Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed."

Being a teacher has some priceless moments. One that I have been able to appreciate many times is during that first class, when I'm going over my expectations. My number one rule is "Only English." Or I will throw you out the window. My poor students make strange noises, and practice two of the few English words they know: "teacher" and "no". They simply cannot accept this huge requirement. It seems like something they will never be able to overcome, and they immediately imagine what their grades will be and start crying.

When I was younger, thinking of Thomas made me feel the same, only infinitely worse. Instead of just my grade, my very soul was at stake. I read the words of Jesus and thought that my task was much bigger than I could handle. I had to believe that Jesus rose from the dead without ever actually seeing him. Thomas couldn't do it. The rest of the disciples didn't have to do it, either. If they couldn't believe it, after following Jesus around for three years, how could I believe in the resurrection almost 2000 years after the fact?

Somehow I read this story and took Jesus' words as a commandment: "Thou shalt believe, even though thou dost not see." I didn't really look at the words: "blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed."

At some point all of us pray for a sign, just like Thomas. And like Thomas, we tend to go overboard. It wasn't enough for Thomas to meet people who had seen Jesus. He had decided that he wouldn't believe just by seeing Jesus himself. No, he wanted to put his hands in the wounds, touch the living, breathing Jesus. Those were the conditions that he set down before his friends, himself, and thus, his God.

In a way, he challenged God. A dangerous thing to do. The Bible is full of people who challenged God and found that God was more wise and powerful than they could ever imagine. We are very fortunate that the Bible is full of people like this, people like Thomas, because we tend to be exactly the same, and we need to see that God still uses us, and still loves us.

Thomas' challenge to God was one which God always takes seriously. Sometimes it comes across like Thomas' demand-prove it to me. If we are more gracious, we challenge God like this: God, strengthen my faith. The faith I have isn't getting the job done.

God's response is not always what we want or expect, but there is a response. You and I might say that we are lucky if we get the big show, like Thomas did. We want it to be easy. We want God to spoon-feed us our destiny. As in Thomas' case, sometimes God does just that.

I challenged God, too. In January of 2000... In a way, I was telling God to prove Himself by taking care of me in a way that I couldn't by myself. And God came through for me.

But how much more blessed would I have been if I had been able to live without going to that challenge? If I had been able to simply wait patiently for God to introduce me to the perfect woman for me? Of course, the answer to that is only God knows, and God certainly isn't telling. The easier question to answer is this: What is the result of my challenge and God's response? The result is that my faith has grown stronger. I now have a walking, talking, and occasionally cooking reminder of how amazing God's love is for me.

Because of God's answer to my challenge, I'm a stronger Christian. I am a Christian who does not need to make that same challenge now. I look with some awe on Christians who do not need to challenge God like that. They are truly blessed, because they believe without having seen. But I don't feel bad about needing help. I'm in good company. Thomas needed help. Peter needed help. In the whole Bible, only Jesus himself never had to challenge God to get some help.

It's time to broaden our focus a little on this passage. The first part, verses 19-23, is the first time for the disciples (other than Mary) to meet with Jesus after his resurrection. He greets them by saying "Shalom be with you!" Shalom, God's peace. Undoubtedly at that time they were anything but peaceful: the crucifixion only a couple of days in the past, the empty tomb, Mary's story of meeting a gardener who turned out to be Jesus. They knew they had locked the doors because they were still hiding from the Jewish leaders. For some of them, it was probably their first time to talk to another disciple since that horrible Thursday night. I imagine a scene of general chaos, with everyone trying to both talk and listen at the same time.

But the chaos went deeper than just the appearances. Their faith had been kicked out from under them. When Jesus appeared and said "Shalom," it was more than just "I call this meeting to order." It was more like, "I have fulfilled the prophecies. Now you may rest in me."

Jesus then tells them, "As the Father has sent me, I am sending you." The beginning of the church. The first receiving of the Holy Spirit. An amazing, wonderful, blessed event. And the first member the disciples are to recruit is Thomas. It's almost like Jesus is saying, "Here, let me throw you an easy one. Nice and slow. You can catch it." They must think, "Hey, this is Thomas! Good ol' Didymus! We can convince him that Jesus rose from the dead! He'll be thrilled to find out!"

Of course, we know how that goes. In the end, Thomas is brought into the fold by Jesus himself, not by the persuasions and arguments of the other disciples. No doubt this was an empowering lesson for the 12, as it should be for us. The lesson is quite simple: God makes things happen. If we pray, if we let God act through us, we might get to see some of the action, but we ourselves cannot lead someone to Christ through argument or persuasion. We can only offer, and if God chooses to melt their hearts, it will be so.

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