By Fr. George Dorbarakis
The first Sunday after the Resurrection of the Lord, also called Antipascha, is dedicated to the disciple of Christ, Thomas, who now becomes the “means,” through his unbelief, in order that the fact of the victory over death may be made certain. “Unbelief gave birth to firm faith,” according to the Hymnographer. And this is because this unbelief “provokes” the Lord to reveal to him more clearly the signs of His presence and to lead him to the saving confession: “My Lord and my God.”
1. Thus the unbelief of Thomas becomes good unbelief. However paradoxical this may sound, the reality is this: there exists good unbelief, but also bad unbelief. Good unbelief is that which, in the first stage, traps a person in doubt and denial, setting as a priority for him faith in reason and the senses. “Unless I see, I will not believe.” It is the skepticism that we encounter many times in the Gospel narratives, as in the case, for example, of Nathanael, when he is called to know the Messiah by his friend Philip—“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”—or as in the case of the tragic father who indeed turns to Jesus in order to heal his child, but full of questions and doubt: “But if You can do anything, help us.” And the Lord does not reject this doubt and this skepticism. He takes them as the first impulses of faith, which will lead to firm and certain faith. For He sees that this unbelief springs from a heart that suffers and is in anguish. Thus the mark of good unbelief appears to be this: the suffering heart of a person, which struggles between faith and unbelief. “I believe, Lord”—to recall again that same father—“help my unbelief.” One also remembers here the similar event of unbelief that Elder Paisios experienced in his childhood (then Arsenios), when the unbelief of a student shook his certainties up to that time. And he describes to us the pain of that state: “My spiritual horizon became clouded. I was filled with doubts. Sorrow took hold of my soul.” It is the similar condition that every person goes through, until he becomes firmly established in his faith in Christ—a fact which means that this phase of unbelief is not regarded as something negative and strange, but as a natural step in the course of a person’s spiritual maturation.
2. When is unbelief considered bad? When it is not regarded as the fruit of an inner struggle, but as an occasion for the distancing of a person from Christ to become final—something which obviously has already been decided by him. In other words, when a person has decided to serve his passions, when his priority is his impassioned attachment to this world, whether as love of pleasure or as ambition and love of money—when, in other words, first place is occupied by himself—then he uses unbelief as a pretext to justify his choices. In this case he is not helped by the grace of God in a positive way—or rather, he is helped, but in a way that refers to “it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.” The case of the betrayer disciple of Christ, Judas, who also passed through the furnace of unbelief, is, we think, indicative in this regard.
3. What seems to be the decisive point of the passage from unbelief to faith? The existence of even the smallest degree of humility—that is, the questioning of the absoluteness of one’s own choices—which leads a person to trust the common experience of others and guides him to the Church. Thomas manages to free himself from his unbelief as soon as he decides to come out of his “shell.” The humility he shows, as a turning toward others and not toward himself, is the risk he takes in order to enter into the realm of surprise: the experience of the Risen Christ. We see that the Lord reveals Himself to him there: in the gathering of the disciples, in the Church, and not in the cloudy haze of the thoughts of his solitude. And He calls him in an entirely personal way, which dissolves his doubts: “Bring your finger here and see My hands, and bring your hand and put it into My side, and do not become unbelieving, but believing.” This overwhelming experience of Thomas now leads him to the natural stance of the faithful disciples: to the worship of Christ and to the confession of faith: “My Lord and my God.”
4. Thus faith in the Resurrection of the Lord is seen to be a reality lived in the Church and only there. Only the one who lives in the Church, and indeed the one who strives to walk the way of the Lord—that is, to keep His holy commandments—can both see and feel His risen presence. “Because you have seen Me, you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” Beyond the event with Thomas, the Lord had already foretold this to His disciples in His extended teaching during the Secret Supper: after His Crucifixion He would be visible and perceptible only to His disciples. To the objection of Judas—not Iscariot—“Lord, how is it that You will manifest Yourself to us and not to the world?”, that is, to the objection of worldly reasoning which demands an outward imposition and victory over the enemies of faith, the Lord is absolute and clear: only the one who keeps His commandments, therefore His faithful disciples, will live Him and will see Him. “If anyone loves Me, he will keep My word, and My Father will love him, and We will come to him and make Our dwelling with him.”
And this is also the constant answer, beyond what we have said, as to how one becomes assured in the faith of Christ: only through love for one’s neighbor. “Faith working through love,” as the Apostle Paul notes. In other words, when doubt and unbelief begin to trouble me, the answer is to warm my heart more intensely toward every neighbor—and especially toward the one considered my enemy. At the very moment when I struggle to love the one with whom I seem to have a problem, at that very moment I will also feel the grace of the Risen Christ flowing into my heart. It is an experience of the Resurrection which, of course, it goes without saying, one must test in one’s own self in order to feel it.
Source: Translated by John Sanidopoulos.
