But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
Poor Thomas. He’s commonly referred to as ‘doubting Thomas’, in a pejorative way. Without the benefit of thousands of years, and millions of believers, I too would need to see the mark of the nails in his hands. But I do have the luxury of all of the believers and prophets and doubters and time and space, all of which allow me to be a person of faith without the luxury of seeing the marks with my own eyes.
As Jesus continues to Thomas, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” Jesus was talking to us. We have come to believe, against all common sense and reason.
This morning, I finished reading the Gospel of John. I’ve always had a doubting Thomas relationship with John’s writing. I haven’t always understood his poetic language, his imagery or allegories. And I still don’t. But I have a much deeper appreciation for what John brings to the Gospels.
The preceding three narratives are far more ground in the notion of Jesus-fully-human, where John focuses more on Jesus-fully-divine. My whole countenance is fully-human, my outlook and understanding of life is sensory and cognitive, so I’ve more easily digested Matthew, Mark and Luke.
Of course the truth is that Jesus is mysteriously both, and in my mortal tendency to take the easier path, I’ve not spent as much time contemplating on Jesus-fully-divine. More important, I’ve not spent time thinking about what Jesus-fully-divine means to me in my cognitive, sensory world.
When reading John, I repeatedly came to points where I didn’t necessarily understand what John was saying, or what he was saying about Jesus. But whether it’s like Peter sticking with Jesus even as he denies him, or Thomas needing concrete proof, Jesus’ divinity kept drawing the disciples back. Jesus stood in front of Mary Magdalene and she did not recognize him. And by simply saying her name, she does. My head doesn’t understand these things.
But slowly, I think my heart is understanding more. Jesus-fully-human is someone I can relate to, see and understand. Jesus-fully-divine is someone I am drawn to, who knows my name, who loves me despite my denials, who’s willing to sit with my need for proof. I don’t understand it, but I am deeply grateful for a deepening understanding of that side of Jesus.
To be clear, it’s not that I didn’t understand that God is divine; God is the definition of divine. But to follow a wise human teacher like Jesus is easy-ish for my head. To follow a wise divine lover like Jesus is what draws me back, again and again.
This morning, I’m thinking about my new-found appreciation for John’s insistence that we wrestle and acknowledge Jesus’ fully divine nature. Thank you, John.
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