Many of you know that in the Presbyterian church we have a tradition of confirming young people to bring them into the full membership of the church. It usually requires a series of classes, in which they might learn about Presbyterian polity, doctrine, and whatever is deemed necessary by the particular church. There is a lot of discretion in how the classes are run. But one thing that is not discretionary is the mandatory meeting with the session. Session is responsible for all matters of membership, and it is necessary for the session to “examine” anyone who desires to become a member of the congregation.
Usually a confirmation class will meet with the session after they have completed their course of study, and the session members will ask them a few questions to get a feel for what they have learned and how they might talk about their faith.
I remember when one of my sons was in confirmation they had an especially interesting meeting with session. This class was a little bit older than the norm, and they had a habit of challenging things. The session invited them to share any questions they might have. And these kids were honest with them. There were certain things that we had taught them that they just didn’t believe.
I don’t remember all the details of what they were doubting. I am pretty sure that one of these was the virgin birth – which is something that a great many faithful people also have doubts about. But this challenge coming from these kids really threw the elders off their game. They were expecting simpler questions – not doctrinal arguments. Eventually, one of the elders in exasperation asked the kids, “Look, can’t you just believe it?” They said no, they could not.
These young people were not the first to have doubts about certain articles of faith – obviously. Thomas was clear about his doubts, wasn’t he? It is fair to say that doubt has accompanied faith from the very beginning.
There are some of us who would like this to not be so. I had a friend who was very anxious about doubt; she believed it was a sin and must be eliminated. “Don’t do that,” she would say if I asked too many questions. “Can’t you just believe it?”
I am sure Thomas’ companions very much wanted him to believe. I imagine the conversations during that intervening week – after Jesus first came through the locked door and appeared to the disciples, showing his wounded hands and side, and then a week later when he made a return appearance for Thomas. Picture them sitting across the table from Thomas arguing the case for faith, one after another. Finally, in exasperation saying to him, “Thomas, look: can’t you just believe it?” and Thomas saying, “No, I cannot.”
Not everyone is as honest about their doubts. Doubts can scare us, because they seem to threaten the entire structure of our faith. When I was getting ready to begin seminary studies, every pastor I knew had some advice to give me. But the strangest advice was from one pastor who told me the best thing I could do would be to keep my eyes and ears shut for the next three years. “Just go through it and get the degree,” he was saying, “but don’t let those seminary professors try to tell you anything you don’t already know.” Any new knowledge could instill doubts about what you thought you had locked down.
We build our faith like a house, brick upon brick. We go inside of it and we feel safe. But then someone comes along and challenges one of the bricks. If you let them pull that brick out, what will happen to your house? I understand why people are afraid of harboring doubts.
It seems to me that the interesting thing about Thomas is that he is not afraid – not at all. He is not afraid to say to the others, “I don’t believe what you are saying.” And he is not afraid to find out for himself. Thomas doesn’t want to hide from knowledge – he wants to receive it for himself. Thomas wants to see Jesus.
And isn’t that really what any of us want?
The truth about belief is that it usually comes from experience. You don’t believe in gravity because your science teacher explained it to you. You believe it because your feet tend to stay on the ground and you don’t ever float away. You don’t believe that the sun will set tonight and rise again tomorrow morning because a textbook taught you about the workings of the solar system. You believe it because all your life it has been your consistent experience.
You don’t believe your mother loves you because she wrote it in a birthday card. You believe it because she showed it with everything she had, the sacrifices she made, the way she held you. Experience matters.
There is a story I heard once about a missionary. He traveled halfway across the world to teach people in a foreign land about Jesus. He and his wife settled in, lived among the people, and taught them about Jesus. He brought the Bible with him, but the people he met couldn’t read. So he taught them in other ways, and the people there became Christians.
One day a local woman came to their door. She had a cruel and abusive husband, who was making her life extremely hard. The missionary and his wife welcomed her into their home. They took care of her while her wounds healed, her strength was restored. Eventually, she left their home and the village. She traveled over a mountain to another village, where she settled in. And she began to teach the people there about Jesus.
She could not read. They could not read. But she shared the good news of Jesus with them. and the good news was this:
Jesus heals us of our wounds. Jesus rescues us from oppression. Jesus loves us and asks us to love one another in the same way. This was what she had learned from the Christians. This was the good news of her experience, the good news she shared. And the people there became Christians.
This is the truth about belief: it comes through experience. The experience of goodness, which all flows from the ultimate source of goodness that is God.
The kids in my son’s confirmation class were accepted by the members of session. And they all chose to become members – even with their doubts. Doubt is a thing we all have to work through on our own journeys of faith. But a faith that begins with a belief in the love and goodness of God will be strong enough to carry you along this journey.
We are beginning a confirmation class today in this church. Through this Easter season we will work together to learn some of the essential tenets of our faith. I don’t know if they will remember any of that – it might not mean anything to them. But something I know they will remember is if, and how, they experience the love of God through the people of this church. This will mean everything.
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Photo by John Moeses Bauan on Unsplash
