Easter 2 All Saints 27 April 2003
Revd Mark Bonney
I hope that you've all got sight of the picture that I asked the sidesmen to give out. In the light of the gospel we've just heard one of the reasons why I chose the picture should be obvious. I first saw this picture about three years ago when it was part of the Seeing Salvation exhibition at the National Gallery. The picture dates from about 1620 and is by the Genoese priest-painter Bernardo Strozzi and is entitled The Incredulity of St Thomas.: the scene of our gospel is shown close-up; there is a difference in tone between Thomas' tanned bald patch and Christ's radiant whiteness that reflects the contrast between the risen and transformed Christ and the earthbound cynical approach of doubting Thomas. The lighting of the piece draws our eyes towards Thomas' finger as he gingerly pushes it towards the side of Christ - and Christ is shown assisting him by holding and guiding his hand.
I must admit I find it a bit creepy really - not least because the wound looks so real. But another reason the picture makes me stop and think is because as I read the gospel passage there is nothing to tell us that Thomas actually put his finger in the side of Christ… he's invited to do that - but the exclamation "My Lord and my God" is uttered without any reference to his taking up the offer - and I think that's highly significant.
It's all tied up with words like doubt, faith and certainty. In some of the researches that go on about people's spiritual quests we're sometimes told that amongst other things they're looking for a path that offers them certainty - Christianity I'm afraid can only ever offer a journey of faith and not one of certainty. In the gospel passage, I think that because he didn't put his hand into the side of Christ Thomas' exclamation was a cry of faith and not one of certainty.
Some 28 years ago this coming October I had just started university - managing a side entrance in via a choral exhibition - an entrance that sadly is no longer available in quite the same way. As a timid and nervous 18 year old I sat down in the chaplain's lounge and was given a sherry - not bad I thought - and then another sherry - I was really enjoying myself. And then out of the blue the chaplain suddenly asked, "Do you have faith?" Needless to say I was somewhat taken aback - not quite the question you expect after a few sherries - whether I fumbled and fidgeted or not I cannot now recall - but what I do remember is that I answered "No."
I've always looked back to that moment as a particularly significant one in my life - although at the time it didn't get me very excited. It was a moment that marked a turning point in my spiritual journey. 28 years on I do wonder what I understood by the word 'faith' when I said that I had none. At that stage of the game I certainly wouldn't have been able to give that wonderful definition of faith that begins the 11th chapter of the letter to the Hebrews "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction things not seen."
That's not always how faith is seen. I remember speaking with someone who was proudly describing themselves as a dinosaur - not because of any physical peculiarity - but because they liked their religion as it used to be before things were changed (myth number one - there never has been a time when things didn't change- but let's put that aside) - certainly they didn't care for discussions about the questions that many within and without the church ask - it seemed much easier to bury the head in the sand and say "Oh well, it's all a matter of faith whether or not you believe it."
Well I'm afraid it isn't. Faith then becomes unreasonable - it's rather like Alice in Wonderland saying that if you try hard enough it's quite possible to believe six impossible things before breakfast.
Dinosaurs and ostriches for that matter are keen to tie faith down to a form of words - there's a strong streak in many of us that wants neat packaged statements so that we say 'that is right' and 'that is wrong' - 'I know exactly where I stand'.
I don't wish to decry the use of words - a preacher would be lost without them - and they are important in the formation of things like the Creed. But to say "I believe in God" isn't the same as having faith - the devil says the same and trembles. A large percentage of the population apparently believe in God, but that doesn't mean they have faith.
"Faith" says he letter to the Hebrews, "is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." There then follows in that chapter a string of examples of faith - and the examples are all of people and God- not facts figures or words - Abel, Abraham, Noah, Moses and the rest all put their trust in God not in wordy formulations about him - and it wasn't a bed of roses for any of them either.
"Things hoped for" and "things not seen" suggests that faith isn't going to be crystal clear. And this is an important point I want to make - if we have doubts and fears and don't always know exactly where we're going it doesn't mean that we've not got faith.
Faith and doubt are not the opposites that they're so often portrayed as being. The opposite of doubt I would suggest is certainty (and faith should never be confused with that). The opposite of faith, I would suggest, is despair - a state in which there is no trust, no assurance of things hoped for and no conviction about things not seen. Despair is the real danger - perhaps even the killer.
Let's return to the Strozzi picture and our beloved St Thomas. Thomas is clearly a questioning person. He doesn't accept the word and witness of the other disciples - it's not good enough - he's not building a castle on second hand experiences, he has to see for himself. He wants the most cogent proof - perhaps he wants certainty. But the thing which Strozzi overlooks is that there's something important in the fact that Thomas doesn't put his hand in Jesus' side - it makes the distinction between faith and certainty: Thomas indeed saw a great deal more than any of us have seen of the resurrected Christ - but nevertheless I like to think that he came to faith and not to certainty. Faith is flexible and growing, certainty is rigid and is what leads Christians to fight each other and others by throwing missiles at each other, be they metaphorical ones in the shape of Bible verses or literal ones as has sometimes been the case.
In the end Thomas' doubt feeds his faith - and hence he who doubted most is led to make the greatest cry of faith in St John's Gospel "My Lord and my God."
Thomas was able to do that because he didn't let his doubts fester away - he didn't hide them beneath a veneer of certainty - he expressed them, and supported by the community of disciples he leapt into a new dimension of faith.
The chaplain who plied with sherry those 28 years ago has a lot to answer for - he was a man of great faith and of deep prayer. I was very sad when he died a few days after I'd been selected for ordination training - he was younger than I am now. There are many things we don't understand - there are many things which raise doubts in our minds and make us uncertain - but faith isn't about certainty, it isn't about understanding it all - it has much more to do with jumping into the unknown with the hope that God's arms are there even when we can't see them.
That all makes faith something of an adventure, something of an exploration - and adventures aren't things for those who want to be certain where they are, and know exactly what's going to happen next.
So let's pray that we may be given the grace and courage for the bumpy, uncertain but exciting journey of faith in the one and only living God who is Father Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.