John 20:24-31 · Jesus Appears to Thomas
Touched
John 20:24-31
Sermon
by Leonard Sweet
Loading...

We now live in a “virtual” world. A TGiF world where T=Twitter, G=Google, i=iPads/iPhones (and all the other i-devices), and F=Facebook. In the next couple of months, Facebook will be going public. The only questions are a) whether Facebook's IPO be the biggest IPO in American history; b) how soon this summer will Facebook reach 1 billion users (that’s 1/7 of the planet’s population); and c) whether or not Facebook is really worth 100 billion dollars?

Regardless of how you answer those questions, all of life now happens “online” in some way or fashion, according to some view or on some venue.

There is good and bad about this TGIF world.

A bad? We leave our kids to fend and to fashion an identity for themselves out of mass‑mediated images. At least three things are wrong with this: 1) mass (not personalized and customized); 2) mediated (not parented or purposed); 3) images (not real life).

A good? Distance is dead. Social media can bring us into relationships with people we have physically never met, and can build bonds between cultures and causes that are separated by half the world’s geography. Every revolution, every conflict, now happens in our own “virtual” backyard or village commons. We are touched by people and events we will never ever physically encounter. Yet they are up‑close and personal to us because of online connections.

It is a connected world. Every one now can be an island, since even islands are no longer isolated. No one with a computer or cell lives alone.

It was so not so in the first century. As Jesus was being tortured and crucified, taken off the cross and buried, almost all his followers fled. The few remaining witnesses were (luckily for them) considered inconsequential women, hangers‑on, etc.. But Jesus’ followers fled for a reason. They knew it was likely they would be considered traitors, conspiratorial enemies of Rome. They knew it was likely they were already on Rome’s “Most Wanted” list. Can you really blame Jesus’ disciples for fleeing from Golgotha and locking down in anonymous hired rooms in Jerusalem? Out of sight, out of mind, was not a bad game plan as far as Jesus’ followers were concerned.

Even Mary Magdelene’s amazing news couldn’t cut through the fear and trembling that kept Jesus’ disciples under wraps. No one but Jesus could bring them back into the world. And Jesus does so with a deft touch.

Despite all the ethereal talk of “spirituality,” of somehow rising beyond our physical selves, the greatest strength, the greatest test, of Christianity’s claims is its physicality. Unlike Gnosticism, Christianity is a deeply materialistic religion, in the original definition of that word “material.” Matter matters. Jesus mysteriously defies gravity and moves through matter in appearing before his disciples — yet he invites them to touch and feel his physical scars.

Matter matters. His presence is physical, scarred, a body abused to the point of death. Yet his presence is a resurrected one.

Spirit matters. Body and Spirit are both present. Faith is first. Spirit always comes first. But the physical body, the basic reality that informs all human experience, is nowhere discounted or dismissed. Jesus miraculously appears before his frightened, hidden, locked‑down disciples. Yet his first action is to invite them to fell the wounds his new physical body bears.

Touch me, he says.

What an invitation! Think about it. More than the hem of his garment, we are invited to touch him at the points of his deepest sorrow and pain.

When Thomas, who missed out on the first miracle, testily declares that only the harshest, physical poke will convince him of Jesus’ living presence, his demand for material proof is granted. One week after Easter Sunday Jesus appears again and gifts those assembled with his miraculous presence and his peace. But he also offers Thomas “carte blanc” — gouge away — put your hands in the holes of my hands, put your hands in the hole in my side.

In Jesus inviting Thomas to “touch” his whole body, Jesus invites Thomas to “be touched” with his whole soul.

That word “touched” has always had varied interpretations. Thomas was invited to “touch” as a sign of Jesus’ real presence. The week before, on Easter Sunday night, all the upper‑room disciples were invited to “touch” the wounds Jesus showed them, and so enter into a unique community of faith. But throughout religious history it has been a distinctly “mixed blessing” to be “touched” by God’s intentions.

‑‑For Noah “touched” meant ridicule and ostracization from all his soon‑to‑be‑underwater neighbors.

‑‑For Hosea “touched” meant being the focus of moral abuse, because of his prostitute wife.

‑‑For Jeremiah “touched” meant physical and verbal abuse because he paraded the divine prophecy naked before a disobedient Israel.

‑‑For Paul “touched” meant turning his back on his power elite status and power enforcing structures — Roman citizenship, Pharisaic authority — and embracing the banishment and suffering of following Christ.

‑‑For Martin Luther “touched” meant standing up to the greatest power of his day and proclaiming “sola Scriptura” and “sola gratia.”

‑‑For John Wesley “touched” meant claiming that word “all” — grace for all God’s children even if that meant and abandoning the mansions of the well-known and well-heeled.

To be “touched” is a “touchy” subject. In mountain culture, to say someone is “touched” is to offer a genteel observation upon the emotional, mental or physical well being of another person.

To be “touched” usually meant the “touched” one was a bit off of the ordinary, in fact anywhere from unique to crazy‑as‑a‑loon. Those who were mentally unstable, developmentally disabled, differently connected to this world in any way — they could all be labeled “touched.”

Today we have hundreds of different physical, emotional, and intellectual designations for people. What if we accepted all those designations, but also considered putting them under one greater canopy. The canopy of “touched.”

The truth is: We are all “touched.”

We are touched by circumstances.
We are touched by our limitations.
We are touched by our gifts.
We are touched by abilities and disabilities.

Yet we need to be “touched” even more elementally than this: if we follow Jesus, we are deeply “touched” because Jesus’ first invitation to his disciples was to touch him. Touch his wounds. Touch his weakness. Touch his body. We who have been touched from on high by the fires of the Almighty ought to be fired up. We who have “touched” and been “touched” by the Savior ought to be “touched.” If you have “touched” or been “touched” by the thorn-pierced brow, nail-scarred hands, spear-thrust side, spike-torn feet, how can you NOT be “touched?”

Christians do not need to fret over whether we are “perfect” or “imperfect.” Whether we are “sanctified” or “unsanctified.” There’s something more elemental and elementary than that: We need to decide if we are “touched” or “untouched” by the presence and power of Jesus.

Resurrection Christians are “touched.” If you practice resurrection, you’re a little off. You’re a little different. You’re a little NUTS . . . where NUTS is an acronym for Never Underestimate The Spirit.

After all, we have been “touched” by resurrection gifts and graces. Yes, we all are a little “touched” by disfigurements and disabilities. Yes, we all are a little “touched” by screwing up, scraping by, and sinking down.

But the “touched” can be “touched” by Jesus touched by the grace of our resurrected Savior, the one who defeated the grave and defanged the jaws of death forever.

For each one of us who is “touched,” who bears the blessed label of “being touched,” we owe a debt. We have been commissioned. We have a mission. The resurrected Jesus’ first directive was for his disciples to spread germs. Touch the world. Spread the news that Jesus had accomplished all that the Father had sent him here to do. In our text this morning, Jesus now touched his disciples with the spreading of that Good News. Means of grace are “touchings,” sacraments of the living presence of the resurrected Christ who sends the “touched” out to “touch” the world with his hands and feet.

Touch me are Jesus’ first directive to his first followers.

Touch others is Jesus’ first directive to those who would follow him first.

In chemistry a “touchstone” is a dark stone, such as jasper, slate, or fieldstone, which shows a clear, concise line when a sample of gold is drawn across it. A mere “touch” of that which is precious is forever and indelibly inscribed upon the surface of the “touchstone.” In literature a short succinct passage can be a “touchstone.” In Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Horatio’s dying words are a “touchstone” passage: “Goodnight, sweet prince/and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.”

In John’s gospel, we have one of the great touchstone passages of the Bible. Jesus invites Thomas to plunge his hand into the wounds his resurrected body bears. The touchstone of this exchange, of John’s resurrection witness, is Thomas’ ecstatic proclamation: “My Lord and my God.”

If you live that touchstone moment, and believe that touchstone passage, you’re “touched.”


COMMENTARY

In John’s gospel that first Easter Sunday was filled not with rejoicing and relief among Jesus’ disciples, but with confusion, confinement, and concern. Despite “apostle to the apostles” Mary Magdelene’s prompt reporting of her experience of the risen Jesus at the tomb, those she tells do not seem to grasp the meaning of an empty tomb. Instead of running to see the tomb themselves or even going out to search for this risen Jesus Mary claims to have seen and spoken with, in John’s text the disciples keep that news quiet and themselves locked down throughout the day.

It is not until ”evening,” that is, after sunset (i.e. officially after Easter Sunday had concluded), that the disciples’ world is transformed. They had remained behind locked doors all day “for fear of the Jews.” As recognized associates of the man who had so enraged the religious establishment that they had gladly turned him over to their Roman oppressors for crucifixion, the disciples’ fears would seem to be well-founded.

But for John those locked doors serve another purpose. Jesus’ sudden appearance within the locked room suggested the unique power and presence of his resurrected body. Jesus’ first words to these disciples is a common enough Hebrew greeting, “shalom alekem,” or “Peace be with you.” But in the confines of that locked room, where despite Mary’s news Jesus’ friends and followers had been huddled all day, this greeting of “peace” is reaffirming and restorative. Even though they did not go and find him, the risen Christ found them. That Jesus repeats this declaration of “Peace” again in v.26 re‑emphasizes its significance, suggesting it is more than a greeting. It is, in fact and in face, Jesus’ promised gift to his followers sited in 14:27 and 16:33.

Despite his mysterious migration through locked doors, Jesus’ first action is to demonstrate his corporeality. He shows the physical marks of his execution, the punctures in his hands (or wrists) and his side. With this proof that it is Jesus himself who stands before them, the fear that had gripped these disciples all day is banished and they “rejoice,” just as Jesus had promised (16:20‑22). Flushed with joy and fleshed out with peace, the disciples are ready to receive the commission Jesus now gives them.

Throughout this “locked room” scene John refers to “the disciples.” Nowhere is it made clear whether this refers to the remaining eleven of Jesus’ chosen companions, or if other “disciples” are present. In light of John 13:20 and 17:18‑20, there is no reason not to assume that a larger group is present and is receiving this first-hand commission from Jesus.

The sentness of Jesus — the Son was sent from the Father is a recurring theme in John’s gospel. The connectedness between God and the Word who was sent into the world was established in the prologue and carries through to this moment of commissioning. Now as he had been “sent” by the Father, Jesus sends out those who stand before him in peace and joy, assured that their Lord lives. Jesus has accomplished the mission for which he was “sent,” and now his disciples’ mission proceeds from that triumph.

To bring his “body” to life and equip it for its mission in the world, the Last Adam “breathes” into them just as God “breathed” into the First Adam and brought him to life. Jesus declares to those gathered, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” Whether or not John was aware of the Pentecost event Luke records in Acts 2, it is clear that this gospel writer intends his readers to understand that it is by receiving the Holy Spirit that Jesus’ disciples are empowered for their mission as the body of Christ in the world.

It is only because of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit that this new Christbody community can participate in Christ’s authority to forgive sins or to point out the presence of sins. The ongoing body of Christ, which is the church, witnesses to the world through the impartation and implantation of Jesus’ gift to the disciples of the Holy Spirit.

But according to John’s narrative, someone misses this moment. Someone important to the story misses this miraculous, mission‑making moment. Thomas, who had previously been singled out by John in 11:16 and 4:5, is absent from the locked room when Jesus makes his appearance.

When Thomas returns he becomes the first missionizing moment for this new Christbody community. Despite the Holy-Spirit-charged atmosphere within that room, despite the wondrous witness of all present testifying that “We have seen the Lord,” a key member of the body remains unconvinced. He expresses his incredulity with rude and graphic forcefulness. The verb “ballein” is stronger than simply to “place.” Thomas is declaring he himself must jab or thrust his fingers into the nail holes and spear pierced side before he will believe in a resurrected Christ.

A week, literally “eight days” pass. Although Jesus’ disciples are still gathered on that first Sunday after Easter in the same rooms, they are no longer described as “fearful.” Now the doors they are behind are merely “shut,” not soundly “locked.” Suddenly, again miraculously, Jesus stands within the midst of this gathered group. Also, again, Jesus’ first utterance is to proclaim the greeting of “shalom alekem,” or “Peace be with you.” Having once again distributed the peace that only he can give to his ongoing body, Jesus turns and addresses Thomas. This time he specifically included the one whose absence had excluded him the previous week.

Jesus’ presence offers Thomas the miracle of his resurrected self, the gift of his peace. Jesus’ presence reveals to that doubting disciple evidence that even though he had not been physically present for Thomas’ diatribe, Jesus has perfect knowledge of all that had been said. Thomas’ faithlessness and the other disciples’ failure to convince were both known to this resurrected Lord.

Jesus now invites Thomas to do exactly what he had demanded he must if he were to believe — to place his own hands in the tattoos of his torture, in the scars still borne by his resurrected body. But more importantly, Jesus challenges Thomas to accept the new reality that stands before him: “Doubt no more. Trust me.”

Thomas turns out not to be the tough guy he had advertised himself to be. Confronted with Jesus’ personal presence and peace, his doubt dissolves and his knees bend. Instead of examining wounds he worships, “My Lord and my God.”

In John’s text, the one member of the body most doubtful becomes the first proclaimer of a resurrection truth: Jesus is “My Lord and my God.” Yet despite the greatness of Thomas’ spiritual insight, Jesus’ response challenges all his disciples to yet another level of faithfulness: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have faith.” The Thomas “leap of faith” from pouting and doubting, stewing and brewing to creed and confession-—is impressive. But the faithfulness of those who not only “don’t touch” but also “don’t see” is the faith that will be most “blessed” and celebrated.

ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc., Leonard Sweet Sermons, by Leonard Sweet