Hermily for 7.2.25
Because hers can preach too
Preaching this week was a breeze. After last week’s trigger-ful readings, I was so glad to preach on something as light as Thomas the Apostle. A good guy! All the readings were even super short and to-the-point. I wrote most of it a full 24 hours ahead of time! No sweat on this day!
And you know, I think it’s pretty good, on the whole. But immediately after the service, I saw people who were so distraught about the state of the nation— the big ugly bill was still being argued— and I realized I’d missed an important moment. Preaching on The Times is truly tricky, and I honestly wasn’t trying to avoid reality with this week’s hermily— maybe I was just feeling safe in the bubble of an easy story in a beautiful chapel with wonderful people— but I know I need to think about this a bit more, as time goes on… as things get worse.
For now, here’s what I said:
In my role as a youth minister back in the day, I was responsible for confirmation programs for high school sophomores. Every year the students were encouraged to choose a confirmation name. Some made really meaningful and personal choices; musicians chose Cecelia, those who had cancer in their families chose Peregrine, that kind of thing. Some chose names that honored their loved ones; their grandparents’ names, or chose names that reflected their family backgrounds, like St. Anthony or St. Patrick.
The kids in one family had a tradition of choosing rare saint names; the one I remember was Porphyrios. I definitely had to look him up= he was a bishop in Gaza, back in the early 400s. It was always interesting to see which saints the young people chose, and the connections they felt with their new patron.
And every year, a common confirmation name chosen was Thomas. These young people were often there… you know… under duress… they were just trying to get through confirmation so that their parents would let them be, and were not having particularly deep religious experiences, no matter how hard I worked to reach them. Choosing Thomas as their saints name was often a small act of rebellion, a tiny statement to the Church and to their parents that they were being confirmed, sure, but that they were doing despite having a lot of doubt.
But of course, we already know there’s more to St. Thomas than the fact that he doubted. He’s called the twin, for instance, although there’s no scriptural evidence of who his twin might have been. The word “Didymus” might have been a nickname, scholars guess, maybe because he looked like one of the other apostles, or because… well, we don’t know. Still, even though it says right there that he was called “The Twin” we still go on calling him The Doubter.
In the Gospels, Thomas is one of the bravest of the apostles, promising to accompany Jesus into dangerous territory, even saying that he’s willing to die to protect Jesus. Still, somehow even though words like “courageous” and “loyal” apply to Thomas, the word we still hear most often is “doubter.”
And although they might not have been choosing Thomas for these other noble characteristics, I didn’t mind the choice of Thomas as a patron for these young people. Because while these kids were quietly declaring their doubt with their choice, they were getting much more for their bargain than they knew, with Thomas on their team.
Because a detail that they might not have noticed, and one we also might miss in this story is that Thomas didn’t walk away because of his doubt or confusion. A week later, the Gospel tells us, there he was back with his friends again, still living his faith, still being one of the apostles, even without the proof he sought.
Thomas doubted, but didn’t let doubt stop him from following Jesus’ call to him. My hope was that they would be moved by their patron to ask deep questions, without shame. To keep asking, keep wondering, keep trying to see Jesus and understand.
Our first reading pays tribute to another important quality of St. Thomas in its description of the community of believers. Paul describes a community whose unity and friendship meant that no one walked alone, and no one was rejected. Paul says that the faith community itself is a temple, sacred to the Lord, with Christ the piece of the construction that holds the whole thing together. Thomas surely found that strength in his community, that welcome, that safety… or else he wouldn’t have come back a second week, carrying his doubts with him.
Thomas’ example to us today is an encouragement to not be afraid to doubt sometimes, to wonder, to ask questions, to try to understand. And he’s reminding us, too, of the value of our little faith community, which, if we keep Jesus as the capstone, will be a safe place where all are welcomed and free to bring our feelings without shame.
I’d heart you to heart me, I need you to read me, I’d love you to share me. I wouldn’t beg you to do one or all of these Cheap Tricks… but I’d appreciate it!
No doubt about it, Margo. You can preach. Thanks as always for your warmth, inclusiveness, and totally unique and stirring observations. Much love to you. May God bless and protect us.