XXIII.

_THOMAS' TEST._

"When therefore it was evening, on that day, the first day of the

week, and when the doors were shut where the disciples were, for

fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in the midst, and saith unto

them, Peace be unto you. And when He had said this, He showed unto

them His hands and His side. The disciples therefore were glad, when

they saw the Lord. Jesus therefore said to them again, Peace be unto

you: as the Father hath sent Me, even so send I you. And when He had

said this, He breathed on them, and saith unto them, Receive ye the

Holy Ghost: whosesoever sins ye forgive, they are forgiven unto

them; whosesoever sins ye retain, they are retained. But Thomas, one

of the twelve, called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came.

The other disciples therefore said unto him, We have seen the Lord.

But he said unto them, Except I shall see in His hands the print of

the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and put my

hand into His side, I will not believe. And after eight days again

His disciples were within, and Thomas with them. Jesus cometh, the

doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said, Peace be unto

you. Then saith He to Thomas, Reach hither thy finger, and see My

hands; and reach hither thy hand, and put it into My side: and be

not faithless, but believing. Thomas answered and said unto Him, My

Lord and my God. Jesus saith unto him, Because thou hast seen Me,

thou hast believed: blessed are they that have not seen, and yet

have believed."--JOHN xx. 19-29.

On the evening of the day whose dawning had been signalised by the

Resurrection, the disciples, and, according to Luke, some others, were

together. They expected that the event which had restored hope in their

own hearts would certainly excite the authorities and probably lead to

the arrest of some of their number. They had therefore carefully closed

the doors, that some time for parley and possibly for escape might be

interposed. But to their astonishment and delight, while they were

sitting thus with closed doors, the well-known figure of their Lord

appeared in their midst, and His familiar greeting, "Peace be with you,"

sounded in their ears. Further to identify Himself and remove all doubt

or dread He showed them His hands and His side; and, as St. Luke tells

us, even ate before them. There is here a strange mingling of identity

and difference between the body He now wears and that which had been

crucified. Its appearance is the same in some respects, but its

properties are different. Immediate recognition did not always follow

His manifestation. There was something baffling in His appearance,

suggesting a well-known face, and yet not quite the same. The marks on

the body, or some characteristic action or movement or utterance, were

needed to complete the identification. The properties of the body also

were not reducible to any known type. He could eat, speak, walk, yet He

could dispense with eating and could apparently pass through physical

obstacles. His body was a glorified, spiritual body, not subject to the

laws which govern the physical part of man in this life. These

characteristics are worth noticing, not only as giving us some inkling

of the type of body which awaits ourselves, but in connection with the

identification of the risen Lord. Had the appearance been the mere fancy

of the disciples, how should they have required any identification?

Having saluted them and removed their consternation, He fulfils the

object of His appearance by giving them their commission, their

equipment, and their authority as His Apostles: "As the Father hath sent

Me, even so send I you"--to fulfil still the same purpose, to complete

the work begun, to stand to Him in the same intimate relation as He had

occupied to the Father. To impart to them at once all that they required

for the fulfilment of this commission He bestows upon them the Holy

Spirit, breathing on them, to convey to them the impression that He was

actually there and then communicating to them that which constituted the

very breath of His own life. This is His first act as Lord of all power

in heaven and on earth, and it is an act which inevitably conveys to

them the assurance that His life and theirs is one life. Impulse and

power to proclaim Him as risen they did not yet experience. They must be

allowed time to settle to some composure of mind and to some clear

thoughts after all the disturbing events of these last days. They must

also have the confirmatory testimony to the Resurrection, which could

only be furnished after repeated appearances of the Lord to themselves

and to others. The gift of the Spirit, therefore, as a spirit of

powerful witness-bearing, was reserved for six weeks.

With this perfect equipment our Lord added the words: "Whosesoever sins

ye forgive, they are forgiven unto them; whosesoever sins ye retain,

they are retained." These words have been the occasion of endless

controversy.[31] They certainly convey the ideas that the Apostles were

appointed to mediate between Christ and their fellow-men, that the chief

function they should be required to discharge in this mediation was the

forgiving and retention of sins, and that they were furnished with the

Holy Spirit to guide them in this mediation. Apparently this must mean

that the Apostles were to be the agents through whom Christ was to

proclaim the terms of admission to His kingdom. They received authority

to say in what cases sins were to be forgiven and in what to be

retained. To infer from this that the Apostles have successors, that

these successors are constituted by an external ordinance or nomination,

that they have power to exclude or admit individuals seeking entrance

into the kingdom of God, is to leave logic and reason a long way behind,

and to erect a kind of government in the Church of Christ which will

never be submitted to by those who live in the liberty wherewith His

truth has made them free. The presence of the Holy Spirit, and no bare

external appointment, is that which gives authority to those who guide

the Church of Christ. It is because they are inwardly one with Christ,

not because they happen to be able to claim a doubtful outward

connection with Him, that they have that authority which Christ's people

own.

But when our Lord thus appeared on the day of His resurrection to His

disciples one of their number was absent. This might not have been

noticed had not the absentee been of a peculiar temper, and had not this

peculiarity given rise to another visit of the Lord and to a very

significant restoration of belief in the mind of a sceptical disciple.

The absent disciple was commonly known as Thomas or Didymus, the Twin.

On various occasions he appears somewhat prominently in the

gospel-story, and his conduct and conversation on those occasions show

him to have been a man very liable to take a desponding view of the

future, apt to see the darker side of everything, but at the same time

not wanting in courage, and of a strong and affectionate loyalty to

Jesus. On one occasion, when our Lord intimated to the disciples His

intention of returning within the dangerous frontier of Judaea, the

others expostulated, but Thomas said, "Let us also go, that we may die

with Him"--an utterance in which his devoted loyalty to his Master, his

dogged courage, and his despondent temperament are all apparent. And

when, some time afterwards, Jesus was warning His disciples that He must

shortly leave them and go to the Father, Thomas sees in the departure of

his Master the extinction of all hope; life and the way to life seem to

him treacherous phrases, he has eyes only for the gloom of death: "Lord,

we know not whither Thou goest; and how can we know the way?"

The absence of such a man from the first meeting of the disciples was to

be expected.[32] If the bare possibility of his Lord's death had plunged

this loving and gloomy heart in despondency, what dark despair must

have preyed upon it when that death was actually accomplished! How the

figure of his dead Master had burnt itself into his soul is seen from

the manner in which his mind dwells on the print of the nails, the wound

in the side. It is by these only, and not by well-known features of face

or peculiarities of form, he will recognise and identify his Lord. His

heart was with the lifeless body on the cross, and he could not bear to

see the friends of Jesus or speak with those who had shared his hopes,

but buried his disappointment and desolation in solitude and silence.

His absence can scarcely be branded as culpable. None of the others

expected resurrection any more than himself, but his hopelessness acted

on a specially sensitive and despondent nature. Thus it was that, like

many melancholy persons, he missed the opportunity of seeing what would

effectually have scattered his darkness.

But though he might not be to blame for absenting himself, he was to

blame for refusing to accept the testimony of his friends when they

assured him they had seen Jesus risen. There is a tone of doggedness

that grates upon us in the words, "Except I shall see in His hands the

print of the nails, _and put my finger_ into the print of the nails, and

thrust my hand into His side, I will not believe." Some deference was

due to the testimony of men whom he knew to be truthful and as little

liable to delusion as himself. We cannot blame him for not being

convinced on the spot; a man cannot compel himself to believe anything

which does not itself compel belief. But the obstinate tone sounds as if

he was beginning to nurse his unbelief, than which there is no more

pernicious exercise of the human spirit. He demands, too, what may never

be possible--the evidence of his own senses. He claims that he shall be

on the same footing as the rest. Why is he to believe on less evidence

than they? It has cost him pain enough to give up his hope: is he then

to give up his hopelessness as cheaply as all this? He is supremely

miserable; his Lord dead and life left to him--a life which already

during these few days had grown far too long, a weary, intolerable

burden. Is he in a moment and on their mere word to rise from his

misery? A man of Thomas' temperament hugs his wretchedness. You seem to

do him an injury if you open the shutters of his heart and let in the

sunshine.

Obviously, therefore, the first inference we naturally draw from this

state of mind is that it is weak and wrong to lay hold of one difficulty

and insist that except this be removed we will not believe. Let this

difficulty about the constitution of Christ's person, or this about the

impossibility of proving a miracle, or this about the inspiration of

Scripture be removed, and I will accept Christianity; let God grant me

_this_ petition, and I will believe that He is the hearer of prayer; let

me see this inconsistency or that explained, and I will believe He

governs the course of things in this world. The understanding begins to

take a pride in demanding evidence more absolute and strict than has

satisfied others, and seems to display acuteness and fairness in holding

to one difficulty. The test which Thomas proposed to himself seemed an

accurate and legitimate one; but that he should have proposed it shows

that he was neglecting the evidence already afforded him, the testimony

of a number of men whose truthfulness he had for years made proof of.

True, it was a miracle they required him to believe; but would his own

senses be better authentication of a miracle than the unanimous and

explicit declaration of a company of veracious men? He could have no

doubt that they believed they had seen the Lord. If they could be

deceived, ten of them, or many more, why should his senses prove more

infallible? Was he to reject their testimony on the ground that their

senses had deceived them, and accept the testimony of his own senses?

Was the ultimate test in his own case to be that very evidence which in

the case of others he maintained was insufficient?

But if this tells seriously against Thomas, we must not leave out of

account what tells in his favour. It is true he was obstinate and

unreasonable and a shade vain in his refusal to accept the testimony of

the disciples, but it is also true that he was with the little Christian

community on the second Lord's Day. This puts it beyond a doubt that he

was not so unbelieving as he seemed. That he did not now avoid the

society of those happy, hopeful men shows that he was far from unwilling

to become, if possible, a sharer in their hope and joy. Perhaps already

he was repenting having pledged himself to unbelief, as many another has

repented. Certainly he was not afraid of being convinced that his Lord

had arisen; on the contrary, he sought to be convinced of this and put

himself in the way of conviction. He had doubted because he wished to

believe, doubted because it was the full, entire, eternal confidence of

his soul that he was seeking a resting-place for. He knew the tremendous

importance to him of this question--knew that it was literally

everything to him if Christ was risen and was now alive and to be found

by His people, and therefore he was slow to believe. Therefore also he

kept in the company of believers; it was on their side he wished to get

out of the terrible mire and darkness in which he was involved.

It is this which distinguishes Thomas and all right-minded doubters from

thorough-going and depraved unbelievers. The one wishes to believe,

would give the world to be free from doubt, will go mourning all his

days, will pine in body and sicken of life because he cannot believe:

"he _waits_ for light, but behold obscurity, for brightness, but he

walks in darkness." The other, the culpable unbeliever, thrives on

doubt; he likes it, enjoys it, sports it, lives by it; goes about

telling people his difficulties, as some morbid people have a fancy for

showing you their sores or detailing their symptoms, as if everything

which makes them different from other men, even though it be disease,

were a thing to be proud of. Convince such a man of the truth and he is

angry with you; you seem to have done him a wrong, as the mendicant

impostor who has been gaining his livelihood by a bad leg or a useless

eye is enraged when a skilled person restores to him the use of his limb

or shows him that he can use it if he will. You may know a dishonest

doubter by the fluency with which he states his difficulties or by the

affectation of melancholy which is sometimes assumed. You may always

know him by his reluctance to be convinced, by his irritation when he is

forced to surrender some pet bulwark of unbelief. When you find a man

reading one side of the question, courting difficulties, eagerly seizing

on new objections, and provoked instead of thankful when any doubt is

removed, you may be sure that this is not a scepticism of the

understanding so much as an evil _heart_ of unbelief.

The hesitancy and backwardness, the incredulity and niggardliness of

faith, of Thomas have done as much to confirm the minds of succeeding

believers as the forward and impulsive confidence of Peter. Then, as

now, this critical intellect, when combined with a sound heart, wrought

two great boons for the Church. The doubts which such men entertain

continually provoke fresh evidence, as here this second appearance of

Christ to the Eleven seems due to the doubt of Thomas. So far as one can

gather it was solely to remove this doubt our Lord appeared. And,

besides, a second boon which attends honest and godly doubt is the

attachment to the Church of men who have passed through severe mental

conflict, and therefore hold the faith they have reached with an

intelligence and a tenacity unknown to other men.

These two things were simply brought about in Thomas' instance. The

disciples were again assembled on the following Sunday, probably in the

same place, consecrated for ever in their memories as the place where

their risen Lord had appeared. It is doubtful whether they were more

expectant of a fresh appearance of their Lord this day than they had

been any day throughout the week, but certainly every reader feels that

it is not without significance that after a blank and uneventful week

the first day should again be singled out to have this honour put upon

it. Some sanction is felt to be given to those meetings of His followers

which ever since have been assembled on the first day of the week; and

the experience of thousands can testify that this day seems still the

favourite with our Lord for manifesting Himself to His people, and for

renewing the joy which a week's work has somewhat dimmed. Silently and

suddenly as before, without warning, without opening of doors, Jesus

stood in their midst. But there was no terror now--exclamations only of

delight and adoration. And perhaps it was not in human nature to resist

casting a look of triumphant interrogation at Thomas, a look of inquiry

to see what he would make of this. Surprise, unutterable surprise,

undiminished by all he had been led to expect, must have been written on

Thomas' wide-gazing eyes and riveted look. But this surprise was

displaced by shame, this eager gaze cast down, when he found that his

Lord had heard his obstinate ultimatum and had been witness of his

sullen unbelief. As Jesus repeats almost in the same words the hard,

rude, bare, material test which he had proposed, and as He holds forth

His hands for his inspection, shame and joy struggle for the mastery in

his spirit, and give utterance to the humble but glowing confession, "My

Lord and my God." His own test is superseded; he makes no movement to

put it in force; he is satisfied of the identity of his Lord. It is the

same penetrating knowledge of man's inmost thoughts, the same loving

treatment of the erring, the same subduing presence.

And thus it frequently happens that a man who has vowed that he will not

believe except this or that be made plain finds, when he does believe,

that something short of his own requirements has convinced him. He finds

that though he was once so express in his demands for proof, and so

clear and accurate in his declarations of the precise amount of evidence

required, at the last he believes and could scarcely tell you why, could

not at least show his belief as the fine and clean result of a logical

process. Thomas had maintained that the rest were too easily satisfied,

but at the last he is himself satisfied with precisely the same proof as

they. And it is somewhat striking that in so many cases unbelief gives

way to belief, not by the removal of intellectual difficulties, not by

such demonstration as was granted to Thomas, but by an undefinable

conquest of the soul by Christ. The glory, holiness, love of His person,

subdue the soul to Him.

The faith of Thomas is full of significance. First, it is helpful to our

own faith to hear so decisive and so full a confession coming from the

lips of such a man. John himself felt it to be so decisive that after

recording it he virtually closes the Gospel which he had undertaken to

write in order to persuade men that Jesus is the Son of God. After this

confession of Thomas he feels that no more can be said. He stops not for

want of matter; "many other signs truly did Jesus in the presence of His

disciples" which are not written in this Gospel. These seemed

sufficient. The man who is not moved by this will not be moved by any

further proof. Proof is not what such a doubter needs. Whatever we think

of the other Apostles, it is plain that Thomas at least was not

credulous. If Peter's generous ardour carried him to a confession

unwarranted by the facts, if John saw in Jesus the reflection of his own

contemplative and loving nature, what are we to say of the faith of

Thomas? He had no determination to see only what he desired, no

readiness to accept baseless evidence and irresponsible testimony. He

knew the critical nature of the situation, the unique importance of the

matter presented to his faith. With him there was no frivolous or

thoughtless underrating of difficulties. He did not absolutely deny the

possibility of Christ's resurrection, but he went very near doing so,

and showed that practically he considered it either impossible or

unlikely in the extreme. But in the end he believes. And the ease with

which he passes from doubt to faith proves his honesty and

sound-heartedness. As soon as evidence which to him is convincing is

produced, he proclaims his faith.

His confession, too, is fuller than that of the other disciples. The

week of painful questioning had brought clearly before his mind the

whole significance of the Resurrection, so that he does not hesitate to

own Jesus as his God. When a man of profound spiritual feeling and of

good understanding has doubts and hesitations from the very intensity

and subtlety of his scrutiny of what appears to him of transcendent

importance; when he sees difficulties unseen by men who are too little

interested in the matter to recognise them even though they stare them

in the face,--when such a man, with the care and anxiety that befit the

subject, considers for himself the claims of Christ, and as the result

yields himself to the Lord, he sees more in Christ than other men do,

and is likely to be steadier in his allegiance than if he had slurred

over apparent obstacles instead of removing them, and stifled objections

in place of answering them. It was not the mere seeing of Christ risen

which prompted the full confession of Thomas. But slowly during that

week of suspense he had been taking in the full significance of the

Resurrection, coming at the close of such a life as he knew the Lord had

lived. The very idea that such a thing was believed by the rest forced

his mind back upon the exceptional character of Jesus, His wonderful

works, the intimations He had given of His connection with God. The

sight of Him risen came as the keystone of the arch, which being wanting

all had fallen to the ground, but being inserted clenched the whole, and

could now bear any weight. The truths about His person which Thomas had

begun to explain away return upon his mind with resistless force, and

each in clear, certain verity. He saw now that his Lord had performed

all His word, had proved Himself supreme over all that affected men. He

saw Him after passing through unknown conflict with principalities and

powers come to resume fellowship with sinful men, standing with all

things under His feet, yet giving His hand to the weak disciple to make

him partake in His triumph.

This was a rare and memorable hour for Thomas, one of those moments that

mark a man's spirit permanently. He is carried entirely out of himself,

and sees nothing but his Lord. The whole energy of his spirit goes out

to Him undoubtingly, unhesitatingly, unrestrained. Everything is before

him in the person of Christ; nothing causes the least diversion or

distraction. For once his spirit has found perfect peace. There is

nothing in the unseen world that can dismay him, nothing in the future

on which he can spend a thought; his soul rests in the Person before

him. He does not draw back, questioning whether the Lord will now

receive him; he fears no rebuke; he does not scrutinise his spiritual

condition, nor ask whether his faith is sufficiently spiritual. He

cannot either go back upon his past conduct, or analyse his present

feelings, or spend one thought of any kind upon himself. The scrupulous,

sceptical man is all devoutness and worship; the thousand objections are

swept from his mind; and all by the mere presence of Christ He is rapt

in this one object; mind and soul are filled with the regained Lord; he

forgets himself; the passion of joy with which he regains in a

transfigured form his lost Leader absorbs him quite: "he had lost a

possible king of the Jews; he finds his Lord and his God." There can be

no question here about himself, his prospects, his interests. He can

but utter his surprise, his joy, and his worship in the cry, "My Lord

and my God."

On such a man even the Lord's benediction were useless. This is the

highest, happiest, rarest state of the human soul. When a man has been

carried out of himself by the clear vision of Christ's worth; when his

mind and heart are filled with the supreme excellence of Christ; when in

His presence he feels he can but worship, bowing in his soul before

actually achieved human perfection rooted in and expressing the true

Divine glory of love ineffable; when face to face, soul to soul, with

the highest and most affecting known goodness, conscious that he now in

this very moment stands within touch of the Supreme, that he has found

and need never more lose perfect love, perfect goodness, perfect

power,--when a man is transported by such a recognition of Christ, this

is the true ecstasy, this is man's ultimate blessedness.

And this blessedness is competent not only to those who saw with the

bodily eye, but much more to those who have not seen and yet have

believed. Why do we rob ourselves of it, and live as if it were not

so--as if such certitude and the joy that accompanies it had passed from

earth and were no more possible? We cannot apply Thomas' test, but we

can test his test; or, like him, we can forego it, and rest on wider,

deeper evidence. Was he right in so eagerly confessing his belief? And

are we right to hesitate, to doubt, to despond? Should we have counted

it strange if, when the Lord addressed Thomas, he had sullenly shrunk

back among the rest, or merely given a verbal assent to Christ's

identity, showing no sign of joy? And are we to accept the signs He

gives us of His presence as if it made little difference to us and did

not lift us into heaven? Have we so little sense of spiritual things

that we cannot believe in the life of Him round whom the whole fortunes

of our race revolve? Do we not know the power of Christ's resurrection

as Thomas could not possibly know it? Do we not see as he could not see

the boundless spiritual efficacy and results of that risen life? Do we

not see the full bearing of that great manifestation of God's nearness

more clearly? Do we not feel how impossible it was that such an one as

Christ should be holden of death, that the supremacy in human affairs

which He achieved by absolute love and absolute holiness should be

proved inferior to a physical law, and should be interrupted in its

efficacious exercise by a physical fact? If Thomas was constrained to

acknowledge Christ as his Lord and his God, much more may we do so. By

the nature of the case our conviction, implying as it does some

apprehension of spiritual things, must be more slowly wrought. Even if

at last the full conviction that human life is a joy because Christ is

with us in it, leading us to eternal partnership with Himself,--even if

this conviction flash suddenly through the spirit, the material for it

must have been long accumulating. Even if at last we awake to a sense of

the present glory of Christ with the suddenness of Thomas, yet in any

case this must be the result of purified spiritual affinities and

leanings. But on this very account is the conviction more indissolubly

intertwined with all that we truly are, forming an essential and

necessary part of our inward growth, and leading each of us to respond

with a cordial amen to the benediction of our Lord, "Blessed are they

that have not seen and yet have believed."

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