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It’s pretty easy for us to slam Thomas for his doubts about Jesus’ resurrection. Thomas had seen the wonders of Jesus’ miracles, including three instances when Jesus had brought someone back from the dead. Maybe he thought that while Jesus could do that for others, He wouldn’t be able to do that for Himself, being God or not being God.

The fact is, though, Thomas was a pretty lucky guy—a blessed guy, even with his doubts. He didn’t hide his skepticism or just go along with the crowd to be agreeable. He clearly states that, unless he sees Jesus for himself, he isn’t going to accept the resurrection. Thomas is very fortunate, because Jesus wasn’t done making post-resurrection appearances.

If his faith and ultimately his salvation and eternal life were dependent upon his seeing the Lord raised from the dead, then he’s incredibly blessed. How tragic for Thomas if the Lord did not return to that Upper Room a second time, and he had been left in his unbelief.

But thankfully, Thomas’ doubts fit with the Lord’s plan. In his coming to belief once more, we are also blessed to have John’s account of this additional appearance, so that our faith might be strengthened, too. Jesus comes back the week following His initial resurrection appearance. He knows Thomas had expressed his doubts, and he calls Thomas forward. “Touch me and see I am real,” Jesus challenges. Yes, Thomas is one lucky man.

We aren’t quite so fortunate in that regard. Nor were those in the early church who were brought to faith by the teachings and writings of the apostles, including those who heard this account from John’s Gospel. Nor have generations and generations of Christians since been so lucky as to see Jesus so clearly and prominently—the crucified Christ, alive and well.

No Christian since the apostolic time has expected Jesus to return in the manner which these disciples saw Him, for it is His teaching that when He returns again, it will be in the full glory of God for the judgment of the world. We trust, though, that the witness of these apostles and evangelists are true. We follow in faith, and communicate that same truth to our children and to all: That the Lord did rise again and show Himself to these early believers. Upon this truth rests the confidence and hope of the Christian faith; without it, everything about it is meaningless.

John’s account of this episode is not written for Thomas’ benefit—at least not for the benefit of his faith. And just as certainly, it wasn’t written to shore up Thomas reputation. The Gospels aren’t afraid to paint the disciples in a negative light when showing the reliability of the written record.

John instead records these events for those—like us—who have not seen, and yet must believe. By it, we can be led to take Jesus at His word, and trust that He has indeed risen from the dead. We don’t have to experience those doubts like Thomas, but instead can take comfort and have confidence.

But we do experience doubt, don’t we? Even though this story, including the words of Jesus that “blessed are those who have not seen, and yet believe,” is often used to encourage and even chastise those whose faith might be wavering, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea in every case. Of course faith is good. Likewise doubt, a lack of faith, is bad. It’s even condemning, if we are left in such a state.

Yet, even though we didn’t have the experience of seeing Jesus risen from the dead, we must believe anyway. If not, then we are expressing doubt about our own eternal life, and questioning the declarations of Jesus Himself. It would be hypocrisy for us to confess our faith in Christ, and yet hide the fact that we still may have some doubts from time to time. We might be embarrassed to admit this, but it is a sin we must confess and repent of like any other. There is nothing to be gained by hiding our quiet doubts, no merit in lying about it.

The reality is: Most people in the world today, particularly in advanced cultures where so much depends on science and technology and the proof of data and observable results, are doubters at heart. We’re very much like Thomas. You’ve heard others say, and we’ve said it ourselves: “You have to see this to believe it.”

There’s certainly still a place in theology and in the work of the Church for what’s known as “apologetics”—the art of constructing a line of reasonable argument to convince people that there is evidence which supports the teachings of the Christian faith.

What’s missing from apologetics, though, is the simple fact that reason, debate, and evidence is never going to create faith. Faith itself requires trust in that which is at its essence unbelievable to fallen humanity. Faith can arise only where God’s work through Word and Sacrament overcomes our fallen nature, and injects the seeds of faith and makes them grow according to His good pleasure. Only when one has faith can he or she then begin to intellectually come to grips with the evidence which the Scriptures and other useful Christian writings provide about God and His plan of grace and mercy.

Several years ago, a wealthy man offered a very large monetary reward to anyone who could provide him irrefutable proof of the Nazi Holocaust against the Jews and others in the days before and during World War II. It was not a problem to bring forth many, many eyewitnesses to these atrocities, some of them even survivors of the horrors of the death camps. Likewise, photographs taken by the Nazis themselves, and by Allied troops and independent journalists in the days and weeks following the liberation of these camps, were plentiful.

Even so, the rich man rejected this evidence. He claimed the eyewitnesses and survivors were liars involved in a mass conspiracy. The photos, easily faked, he said. No matter what, he rejected the evidence as unacceptable. No one who has closed his or her mind to an idea can accept proof to the contrary, because impartiality has been lost.

You and I aren’t impartial, either. Plenty of times, we don’t trust what we see or hear or read in the world around us, even when others do. The fact is: We pick and choose evidence selectively to demonstrate the point we want to make, or arrive at the conclusion we want to reach. We’re skeptical or rejecting of everything else. There’s good reason for that, of course. We have learned that politicians and reporters, business leaders, educators, even family members, often play loose and fast with the truth. We discover time and again that reality is often a great deal different from what we’re told.

Without a fair degree of suspicion and even skepticism, we may be betrayed by our political leaders on both sides of the aisle, hoodwinked by the financial advisors to whom we entrust our investments, and even convince ourselves that our own children couldn’t possibly be disruptive or irresponsible at school. So, a questioning attitude isn’t always bad, properly directed.

It’s quite a bit different in the realm of faith, however. In faith, doubt is the enemy, isn’t it? What, then, should we do? Is it possible to be confident and sure when confessing Christ crucified and resurrected, especially in a world when even truth itself isn’t the same thing to all people? Can we be sure and certain of anything? How?

If we insist on having all our questions answered, all doubt driven away, then we are becoming slaves not of truth, but of certainty. There are both truths and untruths that can’t be proven, given our human limitations. Like Thomas, if we insist on proof of every truth of the Christian message, we are not exercising faith, we are exercising blasphemy. We are calling God on the carpet and demanding He show Himself to us in a manner in which we’ll be satisfied. Where is the faith in that? Where is the trust? If Christianity were perfectly provable, why would there be a constellation of false faiths orbiting around it, all of them teaching and promoting greater or lesser error?

It’s important to remember that doubt and faith are not opposites. It’s more accurate to say that the opposite of faith in God is not doubt, but faith in something else. It’s that constant danger of having any other god, large or small, ahead of Him. Often doubt becomes a waypoint on the journey to a still-deeper faith. Doubt is an element, perhaps even an essential one, which serves as a catalyst to shape our faith, to make it react in a certain way.

You may have had the experience yourself where, after a period of wrestling with doubts and fears about your faith and your salvation—about your very relationship with your loving and merciful God—you’ve emerged with a deeper, stronger, and more resilient faith. By asking yourself the tough questions, and seeking the answers God has given you in His Word, you may be led to a new openness to His will for your life.

So, you need not run away from doubt in fear and frustration. As I said last week, if you worry that you’ve lost your faith, it’s a very good indication that you haven’t lost your faith. Don’t flee from doubt, but understand that it very likely is an indication that the devil so fears your relationship with the Father of goodness and life that he wishes to work particularly hard on prying you away from God.

We wrestle with doubts because our limited minds cannot fathom all the wonders and mysteries of God. How can we comprehend the resurrection, for example? Thomas couldn’t, and neither can we, having not witnessed it. We can imagine it, we can by God’s grace believe it, but we cannot comprehend it.

Can you imagine that a perfect, holy, eternal God can love and specifically provide for and care for someone like you—a flawed, sinful, insignificant, and fleeting creature of the flesh?

Neither can I, and when I begin to think I understand that, and especially when I think I might actually deserve that, I must repent, and so should you. How can he forgive you, forgive me, for all we have done and continue to do to harm our neighbor and to reject God’s will? We have nothing of worth to God, yet He values us infinitely—enough to trade His own dear, perfect Son’s life for yours. Can you comprehend that?

Martin Luther has intense doubts throughout his life—about himself, about his work, about the nature and work of God. Yet all his torments and the wrestlings of his faith—his “tentatio”—shaped him into a stronger and better servant of Christ and his neighbor. Even doubt can be a gift from God, if He uses it to shape us and open us to deeper faith.

Locked away in the fear of our own personal Upper Rooms, the resurrected Christ comes to us. Fear is driven out, hearts are opened. He shows us Himself—wounded and pierced, dead yet made alive. Into flawed vessels He breathes the Holy Spirit and dispatches each of us to bring His message of salvation to people near and far. We wouldn’t think of faith on our own, much less live it. We are too fearful; we would hide like the disciples from an angry and dangerous world. But Jesus has work for us outside our safe little sanctuaries.

Doubt and faith might seem to be incompatible things, contradictions, even. Yet God doesn’t try to rescue us from every little conflict we face in our lives, does He? Sometimes He even uses them to test us and strengthen us, and lets us wrestle with concepts that are difficult and confusing.

Think of them: A Savior both God and man; Christ both with us and in heaven; God one in three and three in one; water that kills and makes alive; body and blood and forgiveness and eternal life in ordinary bread and wine.

If we want to eliminate doubts and have a neat and clean, easily understood God, is that a God worthwhile having? Or would it be better to have a God far deeper and broader and much more incomprehensible than that? If a stone tomb cannot hold your God within it; if the entire world cannot contain His glory, then how can our minds restrict His love?

We will never be able to fathom even a little bit of our infinite God. Easter opens to us and to our imaginations a whole new world of possibilities, because the resurrection has changed everything—everything but God. He alone comprehended our whole world, even before the beginning of time.

In Easter, we find that God is still full of new and creative surprises, and He will continue to enlighten us with them as we confront Him in His Word. As His disciples, we, too, share in the creative imagination of God, and are given the task of conveying its wonder and love to others.

God is not finished with us, nor with any part of humanity. Though many generations have come and gone since the resurrection of Jesus, in each one has there been a faithful fragment which has carried forth the message that He who died and rose again still lives, and continues to provide life anew to all who trust and believe in His name. Through us, God makes Himself known in Christ to others. He lives eternally, and He is therefore in stark contrast to the relentless tide of death and decay the world constantly shovels against. God desires that all people have the abundant and eternal life that is ours in Christ. It is our present possession, and is inexhaustible, no matter how often or how much we share it with others.

Our faith in Christ’s atoning death and glorious resurrection allows us to live a rich and abundant life, in spite of the doubts we will continually face. We see the continual and unchanging love of our Creator as He sends the renewal of life to us each spring, and in each new child He brings into the world. He is here among us, active and fresh. Knowing that, we see His fingerprints in all that is good.

But it is not our seeing that gives us faith; rather, it is our faith that enables us to see the hand of God at work in our lives, our minds, and our hearts. That faith helps us to see more clearly the risen Lord, and to point others to His cross, His empty tomb, and to His saving font and His forgiving meal. May these truly be sources of life abundant—for you, for me, and for all those He reaches through us. In Jesus’ name, Amen.