My husband Michael recently asked me whom I would like to meet if I had a time machine. I am pleased to report that my first answer was Jesus and only then Elvis. But, having considered the possibility of actually meeting Jesus, I immediately got worried: what if I will end up among those who did not believe in him? On the one hand, meeting him would be the ultimate proof that he was the Son of God, but on the other – what if that proof turns out to be weak or insufficient? What then?
In today’s Gospel reading, in the reading appointed to this glorious Sunday when we celebrate Christ’s Resurrection, there is – shockingly – doubt. We all know the story of doubting Thomas but I think he is unfairly credited with the title of the chief doubter. Doubt is something that appears multiple times in the New Testament. Today it is the disciples who did not believe the women returning from the empty tomb. In John 7, Jesus’ own brothers did not believe in him. In Matthew 11, John the Baptist’s questioning of Jesus indicates that he may have had doubts whether Jesus was the Messiah. Matthew also tells us how ‘many believed but some doubted’ even when Jesus appeared to the disciples after his resurrection. And these are just the examples among the people closest to Jesus. There are also the chief priests, the scribes and the Roman authorities who never believed he was anything other than a political nuisance, let alone the Son of God.
It seems that doubt is a fairly common part of human experience. Even those who met Jesus face to face were not immune to it. So those of us who have ever encountered doubt are at least in good company. But what do we do with it?
One approach is that taken by Charles Foster in his book ‘The Jesus Inquest’. Foster is a lawyer and, using his professional skills, throughout the book he meticulously lays out two arguments presented by two hypothetical characters: one offering evidence for Jesus’ resurrection being real and the other arguing the opposite, also based on evidence. I am pleased to say that the argument for the resurrection does win, even though Foster claims to have written the book while being at a kind of a spiritual crossroads, not knowing whether he believes or not and using the book as a way to figure out what the answer is.
I found this book amazingly thorough and fascinating but I wonder whether there is a flaw in Foster’s approach. It is based on proof and evidence and, although he does come to a comforting conclusion, it appeals to a very factual, rational mode of thinking, that which suggests that the greatness of God, the miracle of Christ’s resurrection, the great mystery of salvation can be explained away through comparing the strength of proof and the quality of data. You can’t blame Foster for this: this is how we all think, so all he does is speak to the reader in familiar terms. But God clearly does not converse through evidence: he must not be put to the test and his ways are mysterious – we know that.
It is a classic conundrum: we ask God for proof of his existence but by doing this we reduce our chances of ever getting an answer. But this does not stop us from asking for more proof. Sometimes we ask out of curiosity and sometimes we ask in desperation, when the ground is shaking under our feet. But we keep asking, not realising that we are asking the wrong question. God does not speak the language of proof, he speaks the language of love, wonder and peace beyond all understanding, the language we are only learning. As with any language, the best thing to do to learn it is to practise. I once asked my linguistically gifted academic supervisor what the best way to learn German was. He said the best way is to get lost in Germany. Perhaps not even realising it, we have been trying to learn German by insisting on speaking English. We have been travelling into God’s land but instead of speaking his language we carried on speaking human – the language of evidence and certainty – but today is our invitation to learn.
Today we are celebrating one of the greatest mysteries in the history of the world. It has been observed annually for nearly 2000 years, but for nearly 2000 years it has been analysed and dissected in attempts to explain it. Forests have been cut down to publish books on why Jesus died and rose from the dead and how exactly we have been saved through this. Not wanting to diminish the significance of theological debates on atonement, I wonder if we want Christ’s death and resurrection to be obvious, to make sense. We turn it into a historical fact and a theological truth, we don’t want it to be a mystery, but it is, whether we like it or not. It is a wonderful mystery which we cannot comprehend but we can get closer to by choosing to turn to Christ, to embrace him with our heart. Two people in this congregation are making this choice today, and the rest of us are reminded of the same choice we made or our parents did on our behalf however many years ago. The choice is to take part in the fulness of life through Christ by being baptised, in the faith that this life will be given to us even though the water we are baptised in does not turn into all colours of the rainbow as it is blessed and the oil does not magically change our appearance. And once baptised, we don’t walk around with a radiant aura around our body. Asking for these things would be asking for evidence. Instead, in baptism, as in witnessing Christ’s Resurrection, we come face-to-face with mystery and with wonder, and we learn to speak God’s language.
So let us, even if for today, endeavour to forget our human thirst for certainty and instead dip our toes into the wonder of God’s mystery. Today, of all days, we are in the presence of something we will never comprehend because in our version of the world it is impossible. But this world is not ours – it is God’s, and He writes the rules, and there is no such thing as ‘impossible’ for Him. Let us go get lost in His Kingdom so, speaking His language, we may say with confidence: Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen.