The Chronic Doubter

I want to read you three or four verses from John’s Gospel, the 20th chapter, beginning with verse 24:

“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 thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe. And after eight days again his disciples were within, and Thomas with them: then came Jesus, 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 behold my hands; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side: and be not faithless, but believing. And Thomas answered and said unto him, My Lord and my God” (John 20:24–28).

A Comforting Truth

Now, friends, we have before us in this narrative a very blessed truth, a truth that I fear many of God’s people have failed to grasp. Its importance is suggested by the fact that it is exemplified over and over again in the New Testament. It is the fact that God, as a Father, deals with His children not simply in crowds; but like a wise mother, He individualizes His children and deals with each one personally according to his temperament and need.

Again and again in his Gospel, John brings this great truth to our attention. I believe he does it with intent, for it is a truth that everyone of us needs to grasp—or perhaps I should put it the other way—a truth that should grip us. In the very beginning of his Gospel, John says in the second chapter and the twenty-fourth verse, He (speaking of Jesus) knew all things. “He knew all men, and needed not that any should testify of man: for he knew what was in man.” He knows us altogether.

Andrew finds his brother, Peter, a blaspheming fisherman, and brings him to Jesus and as soon as the Master sees him, He exclaims, “Thou art Simon, the son of Jonas,” and He tells him some things that indicate that He knows his very temperament and disposition. In the very same chapter, Philip finds Nathanael and brings him to Jesus. Now the evidence here, as everywhere throughout the Gospel, is that not one of those persons had ever met Jesus before, nor have we any reason to believe that Jesus had ever met any one of them or heard about them.

“Jesus saw Nathanael coming to him, and saith of him, Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile! Nathanael saith unto him, Whence knowest thou me? Jesus answered and said unto him, Before that Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig tree, I saw thee. Nathanael answered and saith unto him, Rabbi, thou art the Son of God; thou art the King of Israel. Jesus answered and said unto him, Because I said unto thee, I saw thee under the fig tree, believest thou? thou shalt see greater things than these” (John 1:47–50).

In the third chapter, you have the same thought. Nicodemus comes to Jesus by night and as you read the story of Christ’s conversation with this great ruler, you cannot but see that Jesus knows all about Nicodemus and deals with him accordingly.

In the next chapter, you have the story of the woman at the well. I do not know that Jesus had ever before passed through Samaria. When the woman came to the well, she found the Master waiting there and she wondered who He was. But soon she discovered that He knew everything about her!

In the fifth chapter you find Christ dealing with the man at the pool. He was fully aware of the fact that for a long time the man had been in that pitiful state—for 38 years. I want you to see that Jesus Christ knows and He cares. Bless God, He understands my temperament, my predicament, and He deals with me according to my personal need.

Resurrection Appearances

This fact becomes one of the remarkable features of the resurrection appearances. The account of the resurrection is given by Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, and each of these narratives is needed to give a full conception of that wonderful event. As you read the record, one thing, doubtless, will impress you particularly—the completeness with which Christ met the temperamental disposition and need of every one with whom He dealt; Mary, the woman with a broken heart; Peter, the penitent one; Thomas, the doubter. In each case, the treatment was just the kind suited to the disposition. I think of the old hymn:

“Is there anyone can help us, one who understands our hearts,
When the thorns of life have pierced them till they bleed;
One who sympathizes with us, who in wondrous love imparts
Just the very, very blessing that we need?”

“Is There Any One To Help Us?”

That is the question. Has it ever been your question? Is that the question of your heart today? If so, let me assure you, “There is One but only One.” You may have tried others. You may be seeking help today from some earthly source for trouble and sorrow that only the supernatural hand can touch and only divine power can heal.

“Yes, there's one, only one.
The blessed, blessed Jesus, He's the one;
When afflictions press the soul,
When waves of trouble roll,
And you need a friend to help you,
He's the one.”

A Man Like Me

Thomas was one of the twelve men whom Jesus chose to be with Him, and he is looked upon as the chronic doubter in the group. As a matter of fact, I don’t think Thomas’ doubts were any more chronic than the doubts of the others. He was one of those men who was beshadowed by a melancholy disposition. Maybe you have met men like that. I have known some. Indeed, I think I have a pretty broad streak of Thomas in myself. Thomas was one of those men who no sooner was interested in a cause than he begins to fear for it. If he is linked up in a business proposition or if he joins a church or undertakes a building project, he is immediately over-cautious. He can’t help it. And if he loves anybody he is always fearing about their health and about their safety. Of course, all Thomases are not men. I know some that are women.

But Thomas wasn’t a willful doubter. You know there is an unbelief that glories in its folly. Some people seem to think that is a kind of credential to intellectualism. But Paul calls it the “evil heart of unbelief.” Thomas did not have an evil heart! He was loyalty and love personified. Every glimpse of him which the Bible furnishes emphasizes that fact. You remember when the disciples received the information that Lazarus was very ill and later than he was dead, and when Jesus said, “I am glad for your sakes that I was not there to the intent that you might believe,” and turned to go to Judea, that some of the disciples spoke up and said, “But, Jesus, the Jews sought to stone Thee there the other day and if You go into Judea again, You will be slain.” But Jesus said, “Let us go unto him.” Now Thomas saw nothing before them but death. He had no faith to believe that Jesus could overcome such obstacles as confronted Him, but he had a heart of love and he cried out in his zeal, “Let us also go that we may die with Him.” That is not an evil heart of unbelief. It denotes, rather, a deep, intense abiding affection.

Christ’s words, recorded in John 14, spoken just a little while before the crucifixion, were intended as a message of comfort to the hearts of His discouraged, despondent disciples. You remember what He said: “Let not your hearts be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in me.” Poor despairing Thomas could not wait until Jesus had finished speaking, but broke right into the conversation and voiced the cry of his wounded heart: “We know not whither Thou goest, and how can we know the way?”

The crucifixion followed and Thomas, with the other disciples, saw Jesus die upon the cross. Then, shut himself up with himself—the very worst thing that one like Thomas can do. Doubts are like some house plants; they grow best in the dark.

Come Into The Sunshine

It was to one like Thomas that a friend wrote: “I would give you the advice of Emerson, ‘Come out into the sunlight and hug the day. Cease to consider yourself an exception.’ In other words, you have gotten to feel that you are the only one. You have forgotten that there are a great many other men and women who are feeling the weight of trouble and sorrow, just as much as you are feeling it. ‘Come out into the sunlight and hug the day.’”

Bunyan, in his book of matchless imagery, tells us that Christian got into Doubting Castle by going down a byway near the meadow of Giant Despair. The Giant, who locked him in the Castle, had a peculiar trait. He took fits whenever the sun shone. This disposition needed darkness to develop it.

What we need to do is to keep ourselves in the sunshine of God’s faithfulness and love. That is what Jude emphasizes. He says, “Keep yourselves in the love of God.” Or as Dr. Wilbur Chapman used to say, “Keep yourselves in the sunshine.” Keep yourselves in the love of God and “He will keep you from stumbling.”

Thomas wasn’t present when Jesus came. Christ appeared to the others, however. There is never an assembly gathered to His name and to His person that He Himself is not there. On the morning of the resurrection, the disciples were all waiting—all except Thomas, the man who needed that meeting most of all. Then Jesus came and stood in the midst. He pointed to His hands and His side; He breathed upon them and said, “Receive ye the Holy Ghost.” Oh, how much Thomas missed by not being there!

A Valley Darker Than Death

Think of those eight days that followed—days of despair and despondency and discouragement for Thomas that might not have been had he been in his place when Jesus appeared. I have come to feel that the valley of doubt is darker than the valley of death to the believer. Do you know why I say that? Because my Bible states that for the believer, the valley of the shadow of death will be light because Jesus Christ is there. When the believer comes to the valley of the shadow of death, he can say, “Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.” He knows Jesus is with him. But in the valley of doubt, that is just what he does not know.

Thomas owed it to himself and to his brethren to be at that meeting. It was a perplexing hour, an hour of crisis. Thomas had been associated with the disciples for three years and he added to their burden by not being with them on this momentous occasion. I want you to see that. Do you know that there is no selfishness so despicable as religious selfishness? It is the most selfish of all sefishness. “We are members one of another.” As my brain needs my hand and as my eyes need my feet, so all the members of the body of Christ are related and necessary the one to the other. It was Thomas’ duty to be with his colleagues, sad and sorrowful though he was. He should have said, “There is Peter and John and James and Mary, His mother. How sad they are! I will meet with them and see, if I can’t help share the burden.” Isn’t that the right spirit? Had he tried to lighten another’s burden, he would have lost his own. When I give not only of my money but of my sympathy, of my love, of my service, to help a brother, God gives again and it is always “good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over.”

I spoke a little while ago about my God supplying “every need of yours according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” Does that apply to every believer? Oh, no. There are some Christians who quote that passage who have no more claim to it than I have on the moon. Who is the apostle addressing in the Epistle to the Philippians? He is speaking to a little company that made a sacrifice to meet a brother’s need. The aroma of their unselfish giving was well pleasing to God. Then Paul states, “He will meet every need of yours out of His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.”

Have you ever locked yourself up with your sorrow only to find that it would not heal? Have you found, too, that when you go to help another that your own burden grows lighter? When I try to heal another heart, God heals mine.

There is a story told of the late Henry Moorehouse who used to preach from The Moody Church pulpit now and again. He was a great friend of Mr. Moody. One Christmas Eve in a great English city, he was going home discouraged. He had been terribly blue for over a week for things had not been going well in the special meetings he was conducting. No one was responding. That night in his pocket, he had only a shilling or two. If he attempted to buy anything for his loved ones, he would not have enough money left to pay his own carfare to his home. As he was about to board the car, there came to him the vision of a little girl, a cripple lying in a basement in a home some distance away. It was such a cheerless place. No sunlight ever reached in that basement. He thought of little Mary and felt he ought to go and see her because it was Christmas Eve. Then he noticed a little doll in a window and saw the price on it. It was just the amount he had in his pocket! He said, “She will appreciate this little thing,” and he went in and purchased it.

Soon after, he rapped at the basement door and a little voice said, “Come in.” “Is it you, Mr. Moorehouse?” she exclaimed. “I am so glad you came. No one has been to see me all day. Mother has been out working to get enough money to buy some coal that we may have a grate [sic] fire [for] Christmas.”

“Yes, Mary,” he said, “it is I, and I brought you this wee present.” He placed the parcel on the rags that covered her. Lovingly, she held the little doll in her hand. Such a wonderful thing it was to a little girl who had never had one. Mary began to cry. And then she felt all around under the covers and finally drew out a little bundle of rags. She had tied string around it to make the head and the body and the arms, and she said, “I did want a doll so bad, Mr. Moorehouse. I have been trying all day to make one. But, oh, isn’t it wonderful to have a real doll?”

It only cost Mr. Moorehouse a few cents and a walk all the way home, but he said, “My clouds burst in that basement and I had the happiest and best Christmas of my life.” God, in some mysterious way, knows how to make up for the loss of material things in spiritual blessing and the consciousness of His divine presence.

How He Was Cured

Thomas was cured of his doubts through a new vision of Jesus Christ. I can’t dwell upon that. What was Thomas demanding? Some of us think he was severe and critical, but I don’t think so. He was wrong in demanding the evidence in the way in which he did, but I do not think it was wrong to ask to see “the print of the nails.” Thomas did not request any more than the others had received. They had seen the nail prints and they were glad and satisfied as a result. So was Thomas when he believed.

There is not a Christian in this room that has an experience of fellowship with Jesus Christ who did not become a Christian other than through seeing the nail prints. The atmosphere of Calvary always dispels our doubts and fears. Is that not true? If the Modernists should succeed in eliminating Calvary from the Gospel, the church would not survive a half century.

On one occasion there was a French philosopher who made up his mind that he could write a better gospel than the Gospel of the grace of God. So he arranged it and when he had his ethical story all fixed up, he carried it to an old saint and said, “Read that, brother, and tell me what you think of it.”

After a few days, the philosopher asked the old man, “What do you think of it?”

“It is fine, my friend,” was the reply.

“Well, now, tell me what I must do to assure its acceptance?”

“Well,” replied the brother, “first of all you must teach it. And then you must live it. Finally you must be crucified for it and rise again. Then men will believe it.”

Someone has said that “the world never believes in anybody until it has crucified him.”

“Has He marks to lead me to Him?
If He be my Guide?
Yes, in His hands and feet are nail prints,
And His side;
If I ask Him to receive me
Will He say me nay?
Not till earth and not till heaven
Pass away.”

And the pledge of it all is the scars in His hands and in His side—the pledge of my salvation and yours. Thomas saw it, and what did he say? What everybody else will say when they get that soul vision: “My Lord and my God.”