Category Archives: character

How a doubting Thomas believed

Posted on by
6

On Sunday night, ten disciples were gathered in a room.

Okay, there may have been more than ten, but only ten of The Twelve were there. Judas was dead.  Thomas simply wasn’t present.

It was a gathering of uncertainty. The door was locked. The disciples had heard that Jesus was alive, but weren’t sure what that meant. And they were trusting more in locks than in stories that night.

Suddenly there was another person in the room. Jesus said, “Peace.” Jesus held out his hands. Jesus pointed to his side. The disciples were thrilled.

Sometime during the next few days, the ten tell Thomas, “you should have been there! We saw Jesus! He’s alive!”

And Thomas, with the words everyone thinks should go on his tombstone, says, “Unless I see his hands and touch his hands and side, I won’t believe what you are saying.”

And we talk about doubting Thomas. And we get frustrated with the people around us who aren’t as spiritually trusting as we are, as jumping up and down happy to believe as we are.

But wait a minute.

What was Thomas asking for, other than what the other disciples had already seen? And who was Thomas talking to, other than guys who had wanted to hold back when Thomas followed Jesus into danger at Lazarus’ tomb?

Be honest. You would have been skeptical of Peter, too.

The real measure of Thomas is not his honest skepticism about seemingly unreliable witnesses. The real measure is that, when given the kind of evidence he said he wanted, evidence provided more in Jesus’ words that showed Thomas’ heart than in the actually touching, Thomas acknowledged who Jesus was.

An honest skeptic can see evidence. Thomas, seeing, believed. Still others, believing, see.

A professional skeptic, however, often won’t look.

—

This was first posted April 9, 2009.

If you found this post helpful or challenging, subscribe to 300wordsaday.com for daily words about following Jesus. 

 

How Cliff Schimmels changed my life. I think.

Posted on by
8

Sometimes one conversation changes the course of your life for good. You are heading one direction and someone pours counsel and direction and affirmation into you. Suddenly, you are heading another direction. That happened to me sometime during the spring of 1980. I say “sometime” because I can’t remember the conversation.

I graduated from college in November 1979, a few months ahead of my class. I worked full-time in data processing. I remember thinking that I didn’t want to do that the rest of my life. By summer 1980, I was heading toward a college teaching career. During the summer I took history and philosophy of education, did an independent study in teaching higher education, and was accepted into a masters degree program for the fall.

But I don’t remember how it happened.

My sister thinks it was Cliff Schimmels. “He did that for a lot of people,” she said recently. I think she’s right. Since my summer courses were all with Cliff.

Cliff was unconventional. Cliff was an education prof at Wheaton College. He had taught history and Latin and coached high school football, then earned his PhD and taught education. He started writing and spent 6 weeks going back to high school as a student. When he preached or spoke in chapel, he gave one point sermons. As you were waiting for the second point, he walked to his chair. And you replayed his words over and over.

Our lives intersected at church. He taught the college-age Sunday school class at the church I was attending. I loved his teaching. I must have spent some time some day talking with him about my studies, my interests, my life.

I think that we work too hard to make our conversations memorable. Maybe we should work harder to help people be different.

So, who turned your life?

–

An obituary
Cliff’s teaching tips

How 2 ordinary guys confounded religious scholars.

Posted on by
Reply

Peter and John stood in front of the leaders of their tribe.

Imagine a random Catholic talking to the Pope and cardinals, an ordinary citizen in front of the Supreme Court or the President’s cabinet, a student in front of the university president and faculty, you in front of the people you grew up being taught to respect.

The formality of the setting is designed to remind you of the history of the tribe. Every person in the room is present because of intellect, scholarship, reputation, training.

Everyone but Peter and John.

Their families lived by the lake, but not in the resorts. They fished all night and then sold the fish to live. They didn’t have time to study, not beyond the basics that everyone learned.

Standing in this meeting room, Peter and John should have been tongue-tied, knock-kneed. They should have been silent when asked, “By what power or what name did you heal that man?” Instead, Peter reminded the leaders that they had killed Jesus, that God had brought Jesus back to life, and that the living Jesus was the name, the power, the authority they claimed when healing the lame man outside the temple.

These were gutsy words. This was the single most provocative thing to say to the people who had killed your rabbi because they were jealous of his power.

The leaders were astonished at the courage. They knew Peter and John were untrained, undereducated. The only remarkable thing about them, realized the leaders, is that Peter and John had been with Jesus.

Peter and John had spent three years listening to Jesus teach, watching Jesus challenge other teachers, seeing how Jesus healed. It wasn’t the same school as the authorities, but it was pretty solid training.

I think class is still in session.

–

From Acts 4

twitterversary

Posted on by
Reply

I’ve been using twitter as a way of interacting for five years. I’ve sent 20,641 tweets. That means that on average, 11 times a day I have said something to someone, said something about someone, said something for someone, or just said something. I’ve encouraged a little, talked about myself a lot, conversed some. I’ve met some people who have become friends. I have added a new way of touching friends and family. I’ve even sent messages to Nancy and Andrew and Hope who were, at the time, in the same house. (I would talk to Allie, too, but she refuses to use twitter. She figures that Andrew has it covered for the two of them.)

If we assume that we start making sense of our conversation by about age three, I’ve been using twitter for a tenth of my communicative life.

As I was thinking about this anniversary, I thought of some words of Paul. He wrote to some people that he respected very much, “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.”

Paul cared a lot about these friends. He talks about having spent three years with them, teaching constantly. He spoke in public, he taught in houses. He worked and wept and listened and explained. When he talks about how to talk, he had spent three years showing them exactly what he meant.

In the same way that I’m a fan of writing and telephones and tables in coffee shops and walks with Nancy, I am a fan of twitter. But as a means of communication. After somewhere around half a million words, I have to wonder: no unwholesome? Only what’s helpful? Aware of people’s needs?

–

For 7×7, see 3.6.12

changing me.

Posted on by
3

We were singing about the Bible.

Ancient words, ever true
Changing me, changing you

I looked across the room. I saw someone signing the song to her husband in his wheelchair. He had a stroke a few years back. He was in nursing care for a long time, but finally was able to move home last summer. They work really hard and they need help.

Most of us singing were looking at the lyrics. We were talking to each other, but we didn’t look at each other. Except for these two. They were looking right at each other. And when she signed “changing me” she pointed at herself. And when she signed “changing you” she pointed at her husband.

That’s just how the signs go. I know that. But it is one thing to sing words. It is very different to say them with your body, to acknowledge by pointing that the words of the Bible, the words from God are changing me. A physically tangible, identifiable, me. I can say lots of things. But when I have to raise my hand, when I have to sign my name, when I have to point at myself, I’m involved in a different way.

And it is a remarkable thing to point at someone and say, “I see that you are changing. God’s words are working at you, chipping at you, shaping you.”

Knowing the story of these two, I cried as I watched. As she signed, she was demonstrating gesture by gesture compassion and commitment and love. Suddenly the lyrics aren’t just words you sing. They are life. They are conversation. They are affirmation.

I’ve often had a sense that signing goes deeper into songs that singing. I don’t know whether that’s true.

But it was true on this Sunday morning.

—

Ancient words video

And here’s the link for today’s 7×7: 2.27.12 And you can subscribe for emails of 7×7.)=