Jesus' scars: Source of healing and transformation
Doubting Thomas by Emmanuel Tzanes (1610–1690)
Augustine Tanner-Ihm is an African-American minister, currently a curate at St James & Emmanuel, Manchester. He was the winner of the 2020 Church Times Theology Slam competition, speaking on Theology and Race.
LISTEN to Augustine preaching this sermon here [21 minutes]
“For queer people who have been told that their sexuality is a sin, doubt can be a way of resisting these harmful messages and seeking a more authentic relationship with God. Like Thomas, queer people may need to touch the wounds of Jesus in order to believe in his love and acceptance.”
THIS SERMON was given by OTN trustee Revd Dr Augustine Tanner-Ihm at the Open Table Liverpool community on the second Sunday of Easter, based on the story of ‘Doubting Thomas’ [John 20:19-31]
It is the story of Jesus appearing to his disciples after his resurrection. It tells of Thomas, who doubted Jesus’ resurrection until he saw Jesus with his own eyes and touched his wounds.
Like Thomas, we have faced doubt, skepticism, and rejection from those around us. Maybe from our families, faith communities, our best friends, even school or employer. Our struggle for acceptance and equality has been long and arduous. Yet, we continue to hold on to hope, and our resilience has brought us this far.
In this story, Jesus appears to his disciples in a locked room. For many of us, our ‘locked room’ is known at the closet - a dirty, dark space that exists only to kill. The locked room represents the fears and anxieties that many in the LGBTQ+ community experience, whether it’s the fear of coming out, the fear of rejection, or the fear of violence. While the closet may provide a temporary sense of safety, it is not a healthy or sustainable place to grow and thrive. But despite these fears, Jesus enters the room and offers peace.
Beloved, Jesus went into the closet to take us out of it.
Jesus offers us peace in the midst of our fears and anxieties, and reassures us that we are not alone. This message of peace is a powerful reminder that God's love extends to all people, regardless of their sexual orientation or gender identity. For queer individuals who have been rejected by some people, both consciously and unconsciously, this message of peace offers a glimmer of hope, and a reminder that we are valued and loved by God.
In Jewish culture, the greeting ‘Peace be with you’ was often accompanied by a physical gesture of placing the right hand on the other person's shoulder, a sign of closeness and intimacy. This gesture and the words ‘Peace be with you’ were a way of affirming the other person's presence and well-being, acknowledging their value and dignity as a human being.
When Jesus was born, the angel said, ‘Do not be afraid’.
At his tomb, the angel said, ‘Do not be afraid’.
And at this appearance, Jesus says, ‘Peace be with you’.
In the pain and in the sorrow of watching people kill him, Jesus says ‘Peace be with you’.
Queer theologians have much to say about the story of Thomas meeting Jesus:
Marcella Althaus-Reid says:
‘The bodily resurrection of Jesus is the central event in Christian belief because it shows that God stands with the oppressed and is capable of transforming our suffering into liberation. The resurrection of Jesus is the ultimate queer moment because it challenges heteronormativity, binary gender roles, and the oppressive systems of power that continue to marginalize queer people.’
Indecent Theology: Theological Perversions in Sex, Gender and Politics, 2000
Patrick Cheng says:
‘In John 20:19-31, Jesus appears to the disciples after the resurrection and shows them his wounds. This is a powerful image for queer people, who have also been wounded and marginalized by society. Jesus' scars become a source of healing and transformation, and queer people can find hope and solidarity in this message of resurrection.’
From Sin to Amazing Grace: Discovering the Queer Christ, 2012
Elizabeth Stuart says:
‘The story of Thomas in John 20:19-31 is a reminder that doubt is a necessary and valuable part of faith. For queer people who have been told that their sexuality is a sin, doubt can be a way of resisting these harmful messages and seeking a more authentic relationship with God. Like Thomas, queer people may need to touch the wounds of Jesus in order to believe in his love and acceptance.’
Gay and Lesbian Theologies: Repetitions with Critical Differences, 2003
James Alison says:
‘The risen Christ in John 20:19-31 does not come to the disciples with a message of judgment or condemnation, but rather with a message of peace and forgiveness. For queer people who have been rejected by the church and society, this message of radical acceptance can be a powerful source of healing and hope.’
Faith Beyond Resentment: Fragments Catholic and Gay, 2001
Thomas doubted until he saw and touched Jesus. Let us hold on to hope and continue to seek God’s presence in our lives, even in the midst of our doubts and fears. This speaks to the power of doubt and questioning. When Thomas expresses doubt about Jesus' resurrection, Jesus appears to him and invites him to touch his wounds. This act of validation and acceptance is a powerful message to queer individuals who have been told that their experiences and identities are not valid or acceptable. It is a reminder that it is okay to question and doubt, and that even in our moments of uncertainty, God is with us.
This is what Thomas might have said:
‘The Disciples said, “We have seen the Lord! He’s alive! He was right! He is the resurrection! He is life itself! We’ve seen him and he’s blessed us, and he gave us his own Holy Spirit and told us to tell everyone! Come on, come on, let’s go!”
Now listen closely, because this is the part that people always misunderstand. They think I’m some kind of hard-hearted doubter, or a skeptic, or a cynic, who refuses to accept any good news because I only believe in what’s terrible and sad. But remember, I was there at Golgotha! I saw Jesus crucified. I knew he was going to die. The Romans know how to kill people! And nobody survives death. Even Lazarus only got a temporary reprieve, and only because Jesus called him out of the tomb. If Jesus was dead, who could possibly call him out of the tomb? And how could his body even move and function after all the whipping and the nailing and the bleeding?
I figured that depression and fear had just made the other disciples lose their minds. Probably they were seeing things. Maybe Jesus had sent a ghost version of himself to comfort them. Maybe some other spirit had deceived them. But a raised, living body? The resurrection? The life? No. That I couldn’t believe, because it had never ever happened before! I’m sure you can see my point. I wasn’t going to believe in a cheerful lie just to cheer myself up. I was ready to be an adult - a sad adult, to be sure - who could accept the terrible truth about life: that it always ends in death.
And I expected the other disciples to grow up and face the truth too. So that’s why I said to them: “Don’t bother me with your silly tales of spirits and visions. The only Jesus I’m interested in is the real resurrection Jesus, the Jesus with a body, the Jesus whose body is really and forever beyond death, not just temporarily rescued. Unless I see with my own eyes where the nails pierced his skin, unless I can stick my finger right into the hole, which will prove that he is really a body and not just a ghost, I will not and cannot believe a word you’re saying.”
Well, you can imagine, the other disciples were disappointed in me. I asked if they had touched him. They said no - he’d only breathed on them, but no hands or touching. Mary Magdalene hadn’t touched him either. “You see?” I said. “You saw a ghost or something. But it wasn’t really Jesus.”
They couldn’t argue with me, as much as they wanted to. One good thing came out of their visit, though - they insisted that I shouldn’t be alone any longer. They made me join them. Even if I didn’t believe what they’d seen, at least we could be together, remember Jesus together, pray, and try to figure out what to do next.
It was on the following Sunday that everything changed for me. We were in a locked room, because rumors were going around that the authorities were hunting down all of Jesus’ followers. As if it wasn’t bad enough that I’d lost Jesus, I was afraid for my own life too. So the other disciples and I were sitting together, talking quietly, making plans to get out of Jerusalem safely. And then - well, I don’t blame you if you can’t believe what I’m about to tell you, because I didn’t believe it either! Not till I saw it myself.
Jesus was in the room with us. The locked door didn’t stop him. He stood there, his full size, his recognizable body, and then came his voice: “Peace be with you.” That’s the last thing I expected him to say! Peace to a bunch of terrified men hiding in a locked room, peace to us who were looking at someone who used to be dead? Yet even as he said it, I felt it: peace in my heart. Peace all the way through my body, to my fingers and toes.
And then, Jesus looked right at me. Me! He took a step closer. He held out his hands to me. I could see in them the holes where the nails had gone through. He wasn’t bleeding any more, but there was no mistaking the marks of violence on his body.
Then he showed me his side. I found out later that right after he died, a soldier stuck a spear into his rib cage - that’s where the wound came from. Jesus said to me, “Go ahead. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Make sure that it’s really me, really my body. There’s no need to doubt or disbelieve any more. Touch me, and believe.”
So I did. Yes, I really did. I couldn’t stop now. I reached out my own hand and touched Jesus’ wounded side. I put my finger in the holes in his hands. Your sight can play tricks on you, you can hear things that aren’t really there, but there’s no mistake when it comes to touching. I touched a real body, Jesus’ body, and what I know now is a resurrection body: a body that lives beyond the reach of death. Not like Lazarus; like something new, created out of nothingness and death and despair and darkness. Whatever happened to Jesus wasn’t an alternative to death. It’s what lies on the other side of death.
And that’s when I knew. This wasn’t a ghost or a vision or an illusion. It was: “My Lord and my God!”
I’d always admired Jesus, I’d even called him Lord, but now I knew for real who he was: my God. My God who took on this mortal human flesh, and walked with it all the way to death - and a terrible death, at that. And my God who stayed human in the pit of death so that he could rise up out of it again. And having done that, so he could call me out of it again, some day, after my own death.
Dear friends, I got to touch the risen Jesus with my own hand. But you don’t get to do that. And Jesus realized that there would be many, many people in the future who would wonder about him, or doubt the stories like I did, but they wouldn’t be able to check for themselves. That’s why Jesus said: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believed.”
Blessed are you, who are listening to my story, who can only hear but can’t see or touch. Blessed are you for believing. Trust me, I know how hard it is to believe! But that’s why I’m telling you my story. Jesus lives, the same Jesus who died. He is not a ghost or a spirit or a vision or a delusion. He is my Lord and your Lord, my God and your God. Do not doubt, but believe!”
- Revd. Dr. Sarah Hinlicky Wilson,Assistant Pastor, Tokyo Lutheran Church
As we continue to this spiritual pilgrimage, we must remember that Jesus’ message of peace and love is for all of us, regardless of our sexual orientation or gender identity. This reminds us that God’s love is not limited by societal norms or human constructs of gender and sexuality. As Marcella Althaus-Reid said:
‘God is queer, queerer than we can suppose.’
Our duty to fight for justice and equality. We cannot forget that Jesus was a revolutionary, who challenged the status quo and fought against oppression. The struggle for LGBTQ+ rights is a continuation of this fight for justice.
And if you hear that we have arrived, honey, I’m sorry, you are wrong. As long as there is a space on this world for queer people not to be embraced with a true ‘Peace be with you’, then we are NOT done. As theologian James H. Cone said,
‘To be Christian is to be involved in the struggle for liberation and humanization of all people’.
So, let’s take a moment to reflect on how we can continue this struggle. How can we be agents of peace and love in our communities? How can we fight for the rights and dignity of all LGBTQ+ individuals, especially those who are marginalized?
May we go on from here with a renewed sense of purpose and a commitment to fight for justice and equality for all.
Let us pray:
Loving God, we thank you for your message of peace and love, which transcends all boundaries. We pray for the LGBTQ+ community, for those who have faced rejection and discrimination. May we continue to hold on to hope and work towards a more just and loving world. Amen.
