Is your imagination up to it?

‘Life after death’ said the barber. ‘I mean, nobody knows what happens do they? After all, it’s not like anyone’s been there and come back? The clergyman, who was in mufti at the time, swallowed hard and said a silent prayer: ‘Actually,’ he began…’ there was Jesus’

Last week we celebrated the feast of All Souls. We gave thanks for those who have died with faith in Christ, and we looked forward with hope to the day when we shall meet again. For many people, that’s a great source of hope. It gives us comfort when loved ones have died. I still remember feeling that when my grandfather died – he was the first person really close to me who died, he’d been a wonderful example of steadfast faith. This amazing sense of peace came that his long battle was now over and a real confidence that he is now with Christ.

And when someone close to you is constantly living on the boundary between this life and the next, believing that there is a resurrection enables you to cope with it all. I know some of you were at the the confirmation service on Wednesday. I think it was the closest I’ve ever been to heaven: a glorious celebration; friends and family from every stage of your life; all gathered together in joyful worship of our amazing God. When time stands still and eternity seems very close.

But I also know it doesn’t always feel like that. At some times and for some people it’s really difficult to believe in the resurrection. For some folks, the doctrine is more of a stumbling block, a difficulty for faith. Like the barber, they might ask: How can a dead body live? What if there’s nothing left to bring it back together from? What will we look like, what age will we be, will we know each other? How will it happen and when?

Undoubtedly it can be hard to imagine. Or maybe the imaginings that we do have don’t really seem up to the job. How many people have I spoken to who say that they can’t believe in an old guy with a long white beard sitting on a cloud! To which I reply: I don’t believe God and heaven are like that either! But we have to remember: just because we struggle to picture it, doesn’t mean the underlying belief isn’t true.

That was the mistake the Sadducees made in the gospel reading. When Jesus was on earth, there were two main religious groups in Israel: the Pharisees and the Sadducees. The Pharisees were working people who took the Old Testament law seriously. They believed that one day the dead would rise to life and God would make the world perfect. The Sadducees on the other hand were the priestly aristocracy. They believed that once you were dead, that was it.

There’s no reason for us to think that their beliefs weren’t honestly held. The Sadducees seem to have struggled with the resurrection on day-to-day grounds. If God will bring people back to life, what sort of lives will they lead? How are the practicalities going to work out? For instance, what about marriage?

Imagine, they say to Jesus, imagine a woman whose husband dies young. Now we all know that Moses commanded that she should marry the dead man’s brother. But before they can have children and carry on the family line, he too falls sick and dies. In order to pass on the inheritance, she marries the next brother. But he falls out of a tree picking olives. Hoping to be looked after in her old age, she marries no. 4. But he falls under a chariot. And so it goes on.

Finally no 7, who must have been a bit of a mug not to notice what’s going on, predeceased her. So, say the Sadducees, in v.33: imagine the resurrection. The woman climbs out of her grave, then her husbands rise too – all seven of them! So which of them is her husband now?

You see what happened? They’ve got carried away with their own rhetoric! They’ve set up a straw man and knocked it down. They’ve taken the idea of the resurrection and assumed that life after the resurrection would be just like this life. A continuation. And because there are obvious problems, and that doesn’t make sense, they said the whole concept is flawed. But nobody said the resurrection life is just like this life. It’s not a simple continuation. In the case of marriage, relationships are not the same in the resurrection. Marriage is a sign of the soul’s unity with God – and in the life to come the reality is fulfilled

Jesus then shows the Sadducees how the parts of the Old Testament that they accepted point to the Resurrection. The Sadducees only regarded the books of the Pentateuch as Scripture. But even there, points out Jesus, there is the story of Moses and the burning bush. Moses approaches the bush, God speaks to him, and when Moses asks who he is, God replies:

‘I am the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.’ Not the God whom they worshipped when they were alive. Not I was their God. But I am their God – because they are living with God still. To him all are alive.

The mistake the Sadducees made is easily done and we do it all the time: Because I can’t imagine it, therefore it can’t be true. rpt.

This is not some kind of religious cop-out, or invitation to believe uncritically anything outrageous. Coping with the limitations of our imagination is an issue for scientists too: for instance in the book ‘The Blind Watchmaker’ Richard Dawkins says that the reason some people struggle with evolution is that they just can’t imagine it happening.

I wonder how many of our doubts are intellectual or moral, and how many are due to a simple lack of imagination?… I once read a physicist musing on eternal life – I’ll get bored he wrote. I’ll run out of things to do. I’ll get fed up with my own flaws. And as I get older I find I have a little more sympathy with that idea. You know that line in the hymn: ‘Amazing Grace’ – ‘when we’ve been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, we’ve no less days to sing God’s praise, than when we’ve first begun.’ Sometimes I sing that and it feels wonderful. Sometimes it feels a little unnerving – I don’t know what 50 years is like, let alone ten thousand. What about life without end?

That too is a lack of imagination. So how can we begin to dream of eternity? Look back to the very best holiday you’ve ever been on, one you never wanted to end – and imagine that the whole of creation is perfect, ready to be explored. Or how when you’re totally absorbed in good useful work you lose track of time. Remember being engrossed in conversation with friends, or completely lost in worship which lifts up the soul to the presence of God – and imagine that there is never any earthly weariness or sin to drag you back down again.  We’ll be made perfect in the world to come. The infinity of God is able to keep us occupied. And eternity isn’t the same thing as a very very long time.

That physicist should have known we don’t need to be able to visualise something in order to believe it. He would have studied quantum physics, and that’s a prime example of what I’m talking about. For nobody has seen a subatomic particle and they have strange properties like nothing we experience.

And yet that physicist was willing to believe that in physics there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy. Why not apply the same logic to faith? Our imaginations are limited. There are some things we may never be able to grasp, or we can only approach by using pictures.

Are we ever like those Sadducees? Do we struggle to believe in the return of Christ because the words St Paul uses are hard? The Biblical imagery of stars falling from the sky, is a sign that words and images are striving to portray a reality that no-one has set seen. The Biblical writers were stretching their imaginations to describe it. No surprise that we have to too.

Let’s therefore be honest with ourselves. Most people have doubts. Not about everything all the time, but occasionally on particular subjects we do doubt. Don’t feel bad about that. It’s only human. Don’t try and hide it from God though – no point because he knows everything, and it’s when we’re open and honest with God about doubts that he is most able to help us.

Do address doubts. They show us where we haven’t quite understood our faith, where there is space to grow, as long as we address them. So don’t let doubts fester. Bring them to God and pray about them. Think about them and reason them through. Find a helpful book, ask a minister, go on a course. Have we really understood what Christians actually believe, or are we trying to believe something the church has never actually taught? Allow God to renew your imagination and draw you closer to the unimaginable.

On this earth, we won’t understand what life after death is like. Not until we get there. It will hold wonderful surprises! There’ll be limitations we didn’t know we had that we’ll be free from, things we can do that we couldn’t have thought possible, experiences that are inconceivable to us now. For God is the God of the living, and to him all are alive.

Doubting Thomas?

‘I hate driving in the countryside at night’ said a friend who lived in the city. ‘The roads are so small and you never know what might be coming.’ Actually, of course, it’s far safer driving in the countryside at night because you can see a car’s headlights a mile away!

Maybe it was the potholes she had in mind. I met someone the other day near Norton who had not just lost a tyre, but the wheel nut had broken as well. It’s understandable that if you didn’t know the roads, and couldn’t see far ahead of you in the darkness, you’d end up driving slowly and cautiously, perhaps not even going out.

Doubt can be rather like that. Doubt can be like potholes in the road of faith. You never quite know when doubt might suddenly appear. You’re worried about pressing on because you don’t know how deep it will be. You’re not sure what it might do to you if you run into it. So one can become cautious, wary, maybe not venturing out.

The remedy of course is to look at the potholes in the clear light of day, and repair them. The right thing to do with doubt is to bring it to God, talk to him about it, pray and think it through, and seek advice from an experienced fellow Christian. Let’s be clear: honest doubt is not a sin. It can be faith seeking understanding, or looking for a deeper assurance.

Sometimes doubt can be sent by God – for instance if we’ve been brought up believing pat answers to the big questions of life, things that roll off the tongue but are actually sub-Christian; If we’ve been brought up with that, we’ll have an underlying sense that those simplistic solutions don’t add up. Owning that doubt, working with it can bring us to a deeper, more Christian, understanding.

Where doubt goes wrong is if we push it away, or shove it down into the subconscious. If we daren’t admit it to God or are too shy to try out a course, that’s when doubt becomes like a decaying tooth, a dull throbbing ache spreading poison. Far better to tackle it.

That’s what St Thomas did in our reading. He doubted. He was honest about it. God met him in his doubts. And as a result, Thomas was granted deep insight. I’ll be looking at the passage closely so do please follow it on page 112.

In v.19, On that first Easter day, the disciples were hiding behind locked doors in the upper room. The Resurrection has not yet transformed them. Jesus comes and stands among them, saying ‘Peace be with you.’ They can have peace because he is alive, he is with them always. The future holds no fear because Jesus has conquered death. Humanity can have peace with God because Jesus has died for our sins. Peace is Jesus’ gift at Easter, and as a result the disciples rejoice.

That peace is not for them alone. In v. 21 Jesus says ‘As the Father sent me, so I send you.’ The church is sent by Christ with his gospel so that the whole world may know peace and forgiveness. He breathes the gift of the Holy Spirit, giving us the power and courage to fulfil that task. The wonderful experience of Easter is not meant for us alone, but sends us out in mission.

But Thomas wasn’t there. The disciples tell him, it’s the first time they’ve shared the good news – and the recipient doesn’t believe! What a disappointment! Thomas is open and honest: ‘I need to see for myself.’

I think it’s a massive credit to all of them that they managed to keep together for an entire week before Jesus came again. It can’t have been easy, the disciples full of joy, reliving the event, speculating about what it all means. Thomas not wanting to be a party pooper but thinking they’ve all gone mad. Perhaps after a few days the disciples are beginning to question what happened– did Thomas’ doubts spread?

Somehow they held it together. It is so important that we are able to live as a community, holding together those with certainty and those with doubt.

It can take time for people on the edge of faith to come to a point of decision, and Christians need to be sensitive about when it is right to encourage commitment, and when it is right to give space. We must never give the impression that our continuing friendship is conditional on someone expressing faith.

Often, as in v.27 it’s the encounter with Jesus that enables people to grow. How many of you here have done the Alpha course? Talking to those who’ve done it, we often hear the same story: ‘the course was great, I got a lot out of it.’ What helped the most? ‘Well, it wasn’t the points in the talk, or the group discussions, or the great atmosphere and good food, although all that was important. The best bit was the Holy Spirit day. That’s when it all seemed real.’ It’s the encounter with Jesus which changes lives.

Jesus who meets us individually, to whom each one of us matters. Jesus who graciously responds to our particular issues: ‘put your finger here, see my hands. Do not doubt but believe.’ Jesus whose resurrected body bears the marks of his suffering, transformed and glorified.

And so Thomas, at this unique point, says in v.28 ‘My Lord and my God.’ A confession of Jesus’ divinity unparalleled in all the gospels; a deep insight which came about because he had the courage to own his doubts, express them and resolve them. Jesus replies, with us in mind: ‘Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed’. As v. 30-31 make clear, all these things are written so that we might come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing we might have life in his name.’

So far in this sermon I’ve assumed that doubt is having honest questions about our faith. Can we really believe in the Resurrection, is it all true, how can a good God allow suffering, important questions like that. And I’ve argued that if we have doubts we should own them, bring them to God and seek out answers. I believe if we do that, God will help us and doubt will lead to greater understanding.

But I do also meet people who have other kinds of doubt, different reasons for doubt. And I think we need to be honest with ourselves – if I have doubts, why? There’s a spiritual discernment about what kind of doubt one might have and the role it plays in someone’s life.

For instance, I had a friend at university who had been to lots of events exploring Christianity. She said it all made sense. But that’s as far as she got – faith never became personal. And I’ve met other people who seem to have their questions answered, and then nothing really has happened. So I think you’ve got to live the Christian faith for it to make a difference. If it seems to make sense, then try it out. what I’d say to someone in that situation is: Don’t just look at the manual, and ask questions about it, test drive the car. It’s as you start praying, following Christ’s teaching, that the truth has an impact and is felt to be real. Addressing doubts at an intellectual level is important but it is rarely everything a person needs.

Other people correctly grasp that Christianity is life changing. If you believe this and put it into effect, all sorts of things could happen. Habits we’d have to give up, priorities we’d need to change. And if we’re honest that can be a scary prospect. Like St Augustine, we might say: ‘Lord make me chaste, just not yet.’ And doubts can be a very useful cover for that. Hiding behind doubt – ‘ah yes, but what about…’ can be a way of avoiding commitment. We need real honesty with ourselves to spot if that is happening. Bring it to God, he will not condemn but help you to see how his way is best, and how he is gentle with us.

Respectability too can be a temptation. In our society, it is acceptable to be a cultural Christian; to celebrate the festivals, support the church, and practice Christian morality. But regular commitment, conviction in Christian belief – in certain circles that seems overkeen, intellectually dubious. Politicians at election? For people who are influenced by those around them, staying in doubt can be kind of respectable. Again, if that is a temptation to which we are prone, we should bring it to God, who can take away fear and will help us to be clear yet loving in our conversation.

Whatever doubts we have, whatever the reasons behind them, it is good to bring them to God. So I have here a doubt box. I’ll put this on the Vicar’s stall during the offertory. If you want to, you can write any doubts or questions you have on these pieces of paper. That can be a way of entrusting the doubts to God. Saying, yes God, I struggle with this, will you please help me resolve it.

It’s up to you what you do with the paper. If you put it in the box, the only person who will see it will be me. I would use any anonymous items in there to inform my preaching, try and address them in sermons. Anonymously. If you put your name on the piece of paper, then of course that is still confidential but it does mean I can arrange to meet up and talk through any questions with you.

So an opportunity to think about our response to faith seeking understanding, and a chance to take a step of action. Let’s think about that for a few moments before we say the creed.