Living In The Story of Locked Doors and Doubt

A Quick Look At Some Verses in John 20

Photo by Ashwini Chaudhary(Monty) on Unsplash

There was a great teacher of the Old Testament who used to tell his students that “you really can't hear what the stories of the Bible are saying until you hear them as stories about yourself. We have to imagine our way into them.” (see Frederick Buechner, Secrets in The Dark).

So let’s jump in to John 20:19-31. Let’s imagine our way into this story. These verses begin with the disciples. They are locked behind locked doors out of fear of the Jewish leaders. They had seen what had happened to Jesus, their leader, and I’m guessing that they believed that for the Jewish leaders to really stomp out the craziness that Jesus had stirred up, they as his close followers would have to be annihilated themselves.

So here they were, scared and hiding out. Behind locked doors. Notice that it is “doors.” Chances are they not only locked the front door but the room to which they were hunkered down in as well. What just a few days ago looked like a victory march into Jerusalem had now turned in to a catastrophe. They went from boldness to fear. They moved from “all hail the King” to this current low state of tucking their tail and running. Why? No more Jesus! And for him to be crucified? Couldn’t get much worse. Unless, of course, they were next.

But while in the midst of their “be sure to keep the shades closed so one will see us” fear, Jesus shows up!! Yes! Jesus shows up. Now he doesn’t knock on the door (not that the disciples would have answered), he just appears. He shows up right in their midst. “Peace!” This was his first word! And it is a word the he speaks three more times in this story. The disciples no doubt needed some peace at the moment.

As a side not, “peace” is also a greeting. I find this a bit amusing. If taken as such in this passage, it’s as though Jesus just pops in out of nowhere and says “Good evening, everyone!” Or as I say to some folks, “What’s up??” Think about it, you’re in a locked room in a locked house and Jesus, the one you placed your hope in and yet was crucified, just pops in out of nowhere and says, “Hey guys!” Now granted there is much more to this word than just a “Hello," but I do find this possible understanding of it humorously encouraging.

Well, the disciples are ecstatic! They are go from gloom and doom to shouts of joy. They know it’s Jesus for he shows them his scars. And then he tells these disciples, still locked inside of a room inside of a house, that they are going to be sent out. Yes, “Just as the Father has sent me, so I’m sending you.” That’s right, unlock the doors and become for others what I have been and what I will continue to be for you. I’m sure they looked at each other, shook their heads, and quietly uttered, “No, thank you!” And yet here is Jesus! Right here with them! Alive! And not only is he alive, but he is breathing new life into them. Just as God breathed life into Adam, Jesus breathed the Holy Spirit on his disciples. And then he gave them the keys to forgiveness. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?

Now there was one disciple who was not there that evening. It was Thomas! And when he was told that Jesus had been seen, he spoke the words that have caused so many to unfairly label him as doubting Thomas: “Unless I see the scars of the nails in his hands and put my finger on those scars and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”

We are so quick to throw Thomas under the bus. What a doubter! But it was Thomas who in John 11, when Jesus mentioned he needed to enter Judea for the sake of his friend Lazarus, though it was in this region which he was almost stoned, that Thomas said, “I’ll go and die with you, Jesus.” And besides, didn’t the other disciples get to touch Jesus scars? Shouldn’t he be able to do the same? Yes, he probably should have believed Peter and the rest when they told of their experience with the risen Jesus. But he didn’t. He wanted to touch Jesus scars as well.

Yes, Thomas had some reservations. “Jesus is alive? I won’t believe it till I see it.” True, he wanted to die with Jesus earlier, but this is a new day. This is no longer John 11. This is John 20. Life is so up and down isn’t it? One minute we are sold out to following Jesus into any fire he sends us and the next moment we just want to remain in bed. But didn’t Peter journey the same type of path? He had his problems, too! “Jesus, I’ll never deny you!” And then, as the rooster crowed, he found himself running.

I so admire Thomas’s honesty here. His vulnerability is a breath of fresh air to me. I have times of doubt myself. This makes me wonder if what we really need today is a bit more honesty and vulnerability. Could it be that our appearance of certainty, as Christ followers, is repelling to some? That it presents a smugness of having it all figured out which many, if not all, can’t relate.

I think we struggle with whether it is okay to actually struggle. We doubt whether we can doubt. Somehow, we get it in our heads that there is not enough room for doubt to exist with faith. But the truth is, as Daniel Taylor writes, “Doubt is an inescapable consequence of being a finite creature in a broken world.” I’m much like the father whom Jesus asks if he believes he can heal his son by which he responds: “I believe, help my unbelief” (Mark 9:24).

It’s true that Thomas is a bit skeptical at the moment. But notice something about where Thomas is in the midst of his doubting. He is still with the rest of the disciples. So though he has a moment of desiring empirical evidence, he is still in a location by which Jesus might show up again. If Jesus is alive, he will surely show himself to his disciples again. And so Thomas is a good place!

So when we have questions as to whether God is still present in our lives, when we doubt if he remembers our address, then a good place to be is where God is likely to show himself. We do well to journey to the place of prayer! Like the Psalmist, we freely confess, “God, have you forgotten?” We do well to journey to the place where other believers gather and openly confess our struggles. We do well to journey to worship, if only to lament. And we do well to journey to serve those around us. God is met many times in the face of the one who is in need.

As we continue to remain faithful, even in the midst of doubt; when we press on with no hint that God might be present or even keeping his promises; we hold to the hope that what happened to Thomas can happen to us—one day. Jesus does appear to Thomas. And he did so right in the midst of his doubt. I’m faithfully trusting that Jesus continues to do the same today. That right in the midst of our doubts and struggles and questions, Jesus makes himself known.

I find it interesting that at the end of the Gospel of Matthew, right before we get to the infamous words of the Great Commission, Matthew records these words: The eleven disciples traveled to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshiped, but some doubted. Remember, Jesus has risen and he’s now getting ready to ascend to Heaven. So here he is with his disciples, giving them some most important commands, and they are worshiping and doubting. You might could say they are worshiping doubters. How crazy is that? But this is life, is it not? A constant tug of war between worship and doubt, trust and fear, and faith and anxiety.

I recently ran across a sonnet called A Doubting Thomas sort of Sonnet by Jill Alexander Essbaum. Can’t think of a better way to end this post than to share it with you!

Sometimes I think belief is obsolete.
The sky is empty. God does not exist.
That there’s no point to life, and wishing it
won’t make it true. That miracles and feats
arrive by way of science. Cures and healings?
Just suave doctoring. And soul’s a quick
and nitwit way of naming all the tricks
our hocus-pocus human brains complete.
And death’s the end of everything, full stop.
And heaven’s ever-after is a ruse.
And we’re no more than broken, bloody dopes
who pray to ghosts. But. Sometimes something not-
myself pervades the walls of my heart’s room,
goes boom, then wracks and blacks and blues my bones.
The stone is rolled. I’m whole. I’m held. It’s hope.