DOUBTING THOMAS

[This is a story for Doubting Thomas Sunday - March 30, 2008 - for our Kids and Family Mass. The Gospel reading is a bit different in the Children's Lectionary.]

Thomas was a doubter ever since he was a tiny kid. If you knew his background, you’d understand.

Thomas was one of two kids – and a twin at that with his twin sister, Theresa – spelled, “T H E R E S A” not “T E R E S A.”

People misspelling her name at times – was to be the only problem Theresa had in life. Not bad.

Now even though they were twins, Theresa had all the gifts. Theresa was smarter, quicker, better looking. At least that’s what Thomas often heard – when he heard adults talk about him and his twin sister – when mom and dad and an aunt and her husband who lived next door would talk in the other room or on the porch outside their house when the weather was warm and the windows were open and he would be listening. Thomas was not just a doubter. He was also a listener.

And when he went to school, the teachers often said to Thomas, even though Theresa was in the same class, “Why aren’t you like your sister?”

“Ouch,” that hurts.

Now of course, his parents tried not to say that horrible thing that every kid hates to hear: “Why aren’t you like your sister?” Or, “Why aren’t you like your brother?” Yet, they said it at times. And sometimes two times are too many times – especially if the person who hears it repeats it a hundred times inside themselves.

It would get Thomas mad – but he would never say it or show it. But he did think about it – as well as other comments about how great his sister was.

He would sit there at table inside his inner room – that inner room we all have somewhere deep inside our brain – our upper room - where hurts hide and hang out.

The implication always seemed to be disappointment with Thomas.

The hidden message always seemed to be: he, Thomas, wasn’t measuring up to expectations. At least that’s what he thought others were implying over and over again.

Thomas and Theresa, mom and dad, lived in a small town – so everybody knew everybody.

Thomas and Theresa were both in the same class – all through grammar school and high school.

Everybody noticed Teresa.

Nobody noticed Thomas – except for comparisons.

When it came time to graduate from high school, Theresa got several scholarships to good universities for lacrosse, basketball, soccer and academics. Thomas got nothing.

Not being an A student like Theresa – not being a great athlete like Theresa, Thomas decided to do something totally different. Instead of going to college, he decided to become a marine. Nobody in the family had ever been in the marines – so that’s what Thomas decided to do.

He doubted he would make it – but he did.

So it was the Marines – training, then off to war in Iraq.

Thomas, now away from his sister, now called Tommy by his buddies – made it – in fact, he did really well at times. Sergeants and lieutenants praised him for his hard work – but Tommy didn’t know how to take compliments. He would doubt that anyone would praise him for his accomplishments. While growing up, he rarely got them in school or at home. Theresa got them all. So he didn’t take the compliments into his inner room – that place inside each of us -somewhere inside our brain – where we sit and talk with our thoughts and feelings.

One day – one horrible day – when driving down a dusty road not too far from Falluja in Iraq – a road side bomb exploded. It was a notorious I.E.D.: Improvised Explosive Device. This time, thank God, nobody was killed. However, Tommy’s left leg was really mangled and messed up – so messed up that he lost it.

He was flown to Germany first and then to a rehabilitation hospital in Texas – one of the best in the United States.

Obviously, his mom and dad and sister flew to Germany and then to Texas to see him as often as they could.

In time, Tommy’s wounds were healed. He was fitted with an artificial left leg – the latest and best artificial leg one could get. Yet down deep he couldn’t deal with his loss. He faked it when his sister Theresa and his parents came to visit him. Down deep in that secret room inside himself – which many of us keep locked – for fear that another person will say something that will hurt us even more, he had doubts that he would ever get anywhere in his life – now with only 1 leg.

Therapists kept telling his group in Texas that many soldiers who had lost arms or legs or hands were leading good lives. Tommy doubted this.

One Sunday – this Second Sunday after Easter he was in church and the priest said that for the past few years this Sunday has been called “Divine Mercy Sunday” – but for centuries before that it’s also been called, “Doubting Thomas Sunday.”

Hearing his name caught Tommy’s attention. He began listening like he used to listen to his parents on the porch in the summer when the windows were open.

The priest said that Thomas was not there when Jesus came back from the dead – when Jesus came into the Upper Room – even though the doors were locked – because the disciples were filled with fear. Jesus the Risen Lord came back and said to his disciples, “Peace be to you and I want you to bring peace and forgiveness to others.”

The priest said when Thomas came back, the disciples told him the good news that Jesus had risen – that Jesus had come back from the dead. Thomas wouldn’t believe them. Thomas doubted them. He said, “First, I must see the nail scars in his hands and touch them with my finger. I must put my hand where the spear went into his side. I won’t believe unless I do this!”

The priest who was preaching said, “That’s why Thomas is called ‘Doubting Thomas’. That’s why this is called, ‘Doubting Thomas Sunday.’”

The priest also said, “Thomas was a Twin” – and added, “I often wonder if the reason the Gospel tells us Thomas was a twin is because we are his twin. All of us have our doubts. Maybe the story was written down in the gospels, so we doubters could have someone we can relate to.”

Well, when Tommy heard this, he found himself in his Upper Room – somewhere in the deep recesses of his brain. Tommy was sorting out his own thoughts about all this. He knew he was a Doubting Thomas as well.

Then the priest added the rest of the story – how Jesus came back a week later and this time Thomas was present and Jesus called him by name to put his finger into Jesus' cuts and into his side and believe. And Thomas believed. And Jesus said, “You have believed because you have seen. Blessed are those who have not seen – yet they believe.”

Tommy began to feel great peace. Then and there his whole life was opened up for him. He couldn’t wait till Monday morning. He couldn’t wait for rehabilitation exercises.

And he did fabulously – so fabulously that he was asked by his superiors if he would consider doing this kind of work full time – that he become a doctor or a physical therapist or what have you – and be given an assignment to help soldiers – men and women injured in Iraq and Afghanistan – who came back in the pits – not believing they would ever recover.

And that’s what Tommy did – but immediately. He went to school at night to become a physical therapist – but during the day he worked with those who lost limbs and spirit in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Seeing Thomas move so well – speak so well – help train so well, many would recover very well. He had a way of getting deep into inside locked minds and hearts – inside people's upper rooms where we get stuck because of fears and anger and comparisons.

And at least 35 times so far, a soldier who lost a leg or an arm would say to him in anger, “Lieutenant Tom, it’s easy for you to say I can recover and lead a normal life. But I lost my leg in Afghanistan or Iraq and look at you – you’re normal – you’re a full person.”

And Lieutenant Tom would smile – knowing the day would come when he would find the right time, the right moment, to say, “Let me show you something.” And he would sit down on a nearby chair and slowly roll up his left pants leg.

No doubt about it, it always worked.