Or, The Blessing of Believing
Scripture: John 20:24-29
Date: August 10, 2014
Speaker: Sean Higgins
There is no audio currently available for this sermon.
We have learned much about Jesus’ disciples. We’ve learned some of their strengths and many of their weaknesses. We’ve been told about their tendencies through different events. Take, for example, John’s tentativeness to enter the tomb compared to Peter’s impetuousness at the same open door. We’ve read about Peter, the name Jesus gave Simon in order to connect him with the rock of confession. We’ve read about James and John as the Sons of Thunder (which tells us that John was not always mousy). But only one disciple has carried an adjective with him for some two-thousand years of church history.
We do not always say “Brash Peter.” We do not always say, “Timid John.” But with Thomas, we always say “Doubting Thomas.” This is more than a nickname, it is a characterization, and not a compliment. It is also too easy of a criticism for us to make sitting in our seats. Yet these brief paragraphs are for us. John 20:24-29 isn’t mainly about Thomas’ problems but about our blessing.
The entire chapter relates the earliest resurrection appearances of Jesus, first to Mary (verses 11-18), and then to the Twelve disciples minus two (verses 19-23). Judas wasn’t with them and, as verse 24 exposes, neither was Thomas. The rest of the disciples had been gathered together in a locked room, probably wondering what they should do. Mary reported that she had seen the Lord (verse 18) and then, that evening, Jesus showed up among them.
Jesus spoke Peace to them. More than a “Hello,” and more than a “Calm down,” this was a declaration of His work. He purchased peace by His death and brought it to them by His resurrection. Not only did that cause them to rejoice, it became their responsibility to announce and apply that peace.
Except that one of the disciples wasn’t present when the Lord first appeared. The others told Thomas what they had seen, but he wasn’t believing. In verses 24-25 we’ll see the dangers of disbelieving. In verses 26-29 we’ll see some of the blessings of believing.
Thomas was not easily encouraged.
Now Thomas, one of the Twelve, called the Twin, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe.” (John 20:24–25)
That John mentions Thomas as one of the Twelve means that Thomas was in a special class and suggests that it was only the ten who were together that first Sunday night behind closed doors somewhere in Jerusalem. Thomas was not with them when Jesus came. John doesn’t say where he was or why he wasn’t with them, and God had reasons for it even if we don’t fully know them. But for now it meant that Thomas didn’t see or touch or hear Jesus.
So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” They say exactly what Mary said to them (verse 18). The tense of the verb (imperfect) implies that they kept telling him, throughout Sunday night and through the next week.
But he said to them, “Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe.” This isn’t merely slow processing, this is skeptical, stubborn, and probably a bit snotty. Thomas doesn’t ask any questions. He’s not working through a surprise. He’s immediately and forcefully announcing his refusal to accept their testimony.
This is why he got the name, “Doubting Thomas.” However, as bad as this is, how much worse is his response than the other ten? They all rejoiced “when they saw the Lord” (verse 21). Even John saw something before he believed (verse 8), and that believing didn’t move him to stop fearing the Jews or to start preaching the resurrected Jesus. Thomas doesn’t ask for anything that the other men didn’t get before they believed. Why does he get the sticky adjective?
That said, his tone seems to be a problem and his disbelieving is dangerous.
Disbelieving is dangerous because it isolates. Disbelieving prefers to keep distance. That may be why Thomas wasn’t with them when Jesus showed the first time. It is definitely the tone Thomas gives when he refuses to accept their testimony, men with whom he’d lived for three years. When you see someone distancing himself, beware that unbelief may be taking root in his heart.
Disbelieving is also dangerous because it makes demands. Disbelieving creates standards instead of submitting to them. Asking questions, desiring help to work through problems is one thing. Purposing to be dissatisfied and then saying, “Satisfy me” is not good. Thomas appears less reasonable and more resistant the more they speak.
Disbelieving is also dangerous because it presumes omniscience. “I will never believe.” “Well, how do you know you won’t? How are you so certain?” Such assertions are not neutral, they assume superiority.
Isolation, demands, and believing in oneself, these are connected to a man who thinks he is sovereign. He makes himself the lawmaker, the prosecution, and the judge. He, in fact, holds none of those roles. Thomas was suspicious if not scoffing. Disbelieving is dangerous.
The God of peace has His own way of breaking pride and promises good to those who trust Him.
Eight days later, his disciples were inside again, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” (John 20:26–29)
Eight days later means the following Sunday, counting days by including the current day. The disciples, including Mr. Stubborn Pants, were together again when Jesus appeared again. Jesus said, now for the third time, “Peace be with you.” They probably couldn’t hear that too many times.
Then, as if Jesus had heard Thomas’ demands, He said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side.” This is peace. Jesus could have never come back when Thomas was around. Or Jesus could have humbled Thomas with a tongue lashing lesson. “After all I’ve told you, all I’ve done for you, all I’ve suffered for you, who do you think you are?” But in another gloriously condescending, patient, forgiving, and inviting act Jesus offers the evidence and urges Thomas, “Do not disbelieve, but believe.”
We would do well to follow Jesus’ example in some of our interactions.
The following two verses, in God’s providence, are meant for us.
Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” Do you wonder what Jesus’ disciples thought about His nature? They grew in their understanding, but this confession applies to a man that would be blasphemy if not true. Lord does not mean “sir” here, as it would in a respectful address, but it is a reference to the Lord Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth. And God could not be used of mortal man. The Jews wanted to kill Jesus for the insinuation. According to Suetonius, the Roman Emperor Domitian (AD 81-96) wanted to be called dominus et deus noster, “our Lord and God” (Köstenberger, 580). But Thomas couldn’t have appropriately used it for any being other than the true God. Jesus is the eternal Word who was God and was with God. He is Lord, rightful ruler of every thumb’s width in the universe.
And Jesus does not refuse either title. Not only did Thomas say it, none of the disciples corrected him nor did Jesus stop him. If it wasn’t true, now Jesus was guilty. It is too close to “My Father and your Father, to my God and your God” in verse 17 for it not to be an affirmation of His diety.
Jesus does respond. “Have you believed because you have seen me?” The assumed answer is Yes. That’s not bad. The early church depended on the eyewitness accounts of the resurrected Jesus. Those who saw and believed were given great privilege and great responsibility. Jesus wasn’t scolding Thomas or giving him a guilt trip.
Thomas’s actions indicated that Jesus had to convince the disciples rather forcefully of his resurrection, i.e., they were not gullible people predisposed to believing in resurrection. The point is they would not have fabricated it or hallucinated it, since they were so reluctant to believe even with the evidence they could see. (John MacArthur, The MacArthur Study Bible)
Nevertheless, Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed. Here we are. This is the second “blessed” or beatitude in John’s Gospel. The first was in 13:17: “If you know these things [about humbly serving others from love], blessed are you if you do them.”
Here the blessing comes to those who have nothing visible to hold on to. Faith is “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). By believing, the people of old received their commendation. They crossed the Red Sea, walked around the walls of Jerusalem, conquered kingdoms, stopped lions mouths, were mocked and flogged and killed, were afflicted and mistreated, men of whom the world was not worthy.
We are those who have not seen, and, as we believe, we are blessed.
Believing is key, mentioned five times in this paragraph, and preparing the way for the purpose statement in John 20:30-31. To believe means to recognize Jesus as Lord and God.
Disbelieving in God is dangerous because it exalts self, depends on self, makes self superior, even to God. Everyone believes, but on what or whom? Those who believe are happy because they are truly connected and correctly related to the Lord God.
G.K. Chesterton said the following about hope, but applicable to faith:
It is when everything is hopeless that hope begins to be a strength at all. Like all the Christian virtues, it is as unreasonable as it is indispensable. (Heretics, 49)
Exactly at the instant when hope ceases to be reasonable it begins to be useful. (ibid., 68)
The only kind of hope that is of any use in a battle is a hope that denies arithmetic. (ibid., 69)
I know that as disciples we are all called believers. What if we believed so outrageously that we had the verbal adjective attached to our name: “Believing Jim.” “Believing Jenny.” That would make our enemy nervous as a bold witness in the world.