Brothers and Sisters, Grace to you and peace, from God our Father and the resurrected Jesus Christ, in the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Our Gospel lesson today is famous. It's the text where you found the name and theme for your Church: not just St. Thomas, but "doubting Thomas." Many of you have heard this text preached on many times, because it's always the text the week after Easter. And most of us are a little attracted to the idea of Thomas' doubt. It makes him seem serious and modern, a good role model for savvy people like us.

But I think "Doubting Thomas" is a bad nickname. I don't think Thomas is a doubter. He may start in doubt, but he ends with faith. In fact, Thomas is portrayed as someone who confesses his faith with great clarity. When Thomas meets Jesus he confesses: My Lord and my God. Thomas is the first person in Scripture who confesses Jesus not merely as Son of God but as God — and that without reservation. Clearly Thomas has been the recipient of revelation: Christ reveals himself to Thomas. Yet we label him the doubter.

Let's fill out the story a little. It began back on Easter Sunday, after some disciples have seen the empty tomb — after Mary Magdalene has met Jesus in the Garden. That same day, the disciples are huddled in a locked room, terrified of what will happen next, terrified to unlock the doors for fear of the Jews. Apparently, Jesus' resurrection has put them in a worse mood than his crucifixion did. And then suddenly, despite the locked doors, Jesus appears standing right in their midst. And his first words to them are words of comfort — "Peace be with you." He shows them the wounds in his hands and sides and then soothes them again: "Peace be with you." He says "As the Father has sent me, so I send you." And he breathes on them. He gives them the Holy Spirit he has promised them, the comforter, the one who will reveal all truth to them, the one who will give them words to say when they are called to speak. He gives them power, even power to forgive sins.

I'll continue with Thomas and get to a point. But I want to briefly pause and comment on the image of breathing for the giving of the Spirit. In much of Scripture, the word pneuma, translated Spirit, is portrayed as wind — meaning it comes from one place and moves mysteriously to another. In our passage today, however, pneuma is portrayed as breath. (This same imagery is used in 2 Thessalonians 2:8.) This imagery is carefully chosen and important. Breath comes out of the mouth of one creature and reaches another creature — invisibly. This invisible breath that moves is like a bridge. It links two creatures without removing the distance between them. So this image of spirit as breath becomes the metaphor for divine revelation. One theologian says it this way. "The fact that God gives His pneuma to humans or that humans receive this pneuma implies that God comes to humans, that he discloses Himself to humans, that he gives himself to be experienced by human beings, that He awakens human beings to faith..., that He creates a community of faith and proclamation to which he imparts salvation... — in short, God becomes theirs, and makes them His" (Barth CD 1.1 450). That is the wonderful implication of Jesus breathing the Spirit onto the disciples. The Spirit bridges the gap between God and human. The distance between Creator and creature remains, but a link is established, a community created.

Now back to Thomas. When Jesus first revealed Himself to the disciples, Thomas wasn't there. So the disciples give a second hand report to him. He simply says fine, but he needs to see for himself — just as they have been allowed to see. A week passes. Are the disciples out on the streets? — where Jesus sent them? Did they breathe in his peace, breath in the empowering Spirit? No. They are back in the locked room, huddled again together in fear. This time Thomas is there. Once again, Jesus appears in spite of the locked doors. Once again he shows his hands and his side. Thomas gets no more or no less than the same proof the other disciples received — but with one amazing difference. Thomas confesses his faith. "My Lord and my God." My Lord and my God — Thomas says. And we persist in labeling him "doubting Thomas."

In my opinion this story is not about faith and doubt. Rather it's about revelation. More specifically it's about the revelation that happens in spite of closed and locked doors — or closed and locked hearts and minds. The story was written, says John, so that you too may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing, you may have life in his name. Belief is not an end in itself. Life is the goal. Belief is the means to that end. But what does life mean? For the disciples it meant one thing: participating in the reality of Jesus Christ. Probably they already believed — believed in some limited way that Jesus was alive. But while they were in that closed and locked room they were participating in death. They were locked in a prison of fear, locked into a place that seemed to feel safe, and even had been safe for a while. But no longer. Just because something feels safe and familiar does not mean that it is a source of life.

The disciples had become a frightened little band huddled up against the night. But eventually they emerged from the safety and familiarity of their locked room. They became the apostles, the sent ones — just as Jesus intended. We know of this because of the stories we hear in Acts — including the one we read this morning. Peter and the other had caused a ruckus with their preaching and healing, with their fearless shouts about the Good News of the risen Jesus. They had made such a ruckus that the Authorities became jealous and angry. So the leaders arrested the disciples and put them in prison — more locked doors. In the middle of the night God's Angel simply appeared and set them free. The old fearful disciples would have stayed put and wondered how to get those doors closed and locked again. The newborn apostles walked out and began to preach again. Again they were brought before the Authorities. The disciples said: Don't you get it? Threaten us all you want — but you can't stop us — "we cannot keep from speaking about what we have seen and heard." One thing is clear. Locked doors mean nothing to God. When God reveals God's self — things change. When God gives the command to go out and speak, that's the only reasonable thing to do. It's the only safe thing to do.

Prisons made of steel and concrete are immaterial to God. Prisons in our hearts and minds mean nothing. Locked doors do not stop God. Nor will they keep us safe, once the Spirit has been breathed our way. Sometimes we fantasize that we can huddle together and remain safe as we gaze inward. But those days are done and gone -- the time comes when we open the doors and go out into the world. We can say we believe — but don't our very beliefs sometimes stand in the way of God's vision? How often does our faith degrade into custom? How often does our Church-going allow us to huddle together in a safe and familiar place like this? And do we sometimes even lock our St. Thomas doors against the Living Word of God?

Brothers and Sisters in Christ. Here is the Good News. The risen Lord can pass through any and all barriers — even those erected by custom, habit, familiarity. Jesus can overcome our prejudices. Jesus can overcome our fear. Jesus can overcome even death itself — that is the message of Easter. We all have our own accustomed patterns. And like St. Thomas we all use our preconceptions to filter God's living Word breaking in. Some of us demand scientific empirical evidence. Some of us like to have our heartstrings tugged and our sentimental feelings aroused. Others are offended by all that is not Johann Sebastian Bach. Some of us are paralyzed by doubt. Some of us are mired in stagnant or boring faith. These little locked rooms don't matter — they simply don't matter. God can use both doubt and faith to move us into life. Jesus walks right through the locked doors and speaks peace to our troubled hearts. And then he breathes on us, and bridges the distance between him and us through the Holy Spirit. And that is Life — to participate in the resurrected Christ through the Spirit of God. That is life, and grace, and peace, in Jesus Christ.

Hide if you must. Huddle together in Church if you insist. Lock the doors of your hearts and minds if you need. But know this: Locked doors will never stop Jesus the Christ. He is here with us now — breathing on us — speaking to us. Peace be with you says the Lord. And, as the Father has sent me, so I send you.  —–   Amen.