12 April 2026, 1 Peter 1:3–9, John 20:19–31, Finding Yourself in Unfamiliar Places: Thomas and His Honest Cry

Last June, I took some study leave to attend a preaching conference hosted by Moore College. As an Anglican seminary, the gathering consisted primarily of Anglican ministers—about thirty in total. Alongside a friend of mine, I was one of only two participants from the Uniting Church. It was a setting that felt quite unfamiliar to me, with a vibe and tradition much different from what I was accustomed to.

Even the way people addressed me felt new. Throughout the conference, I was called "Brother." While it was a warm and sincere gesture, it was a term I hadn’t often heard within my own community. Each time I heard it, I was gently reminded that I was stepping into a world different from my own.

The preaching style was equally distinct. The sermons were deeply rooted in a specific tradition—often extending over thirty minutes, meticulously structured with clear points, and delivered with a strong sense of pulpit conviction. As my friend and I gravitated toward each other during the breaks, we couldn't help but reflect on these differences, comparing this environment to our own "Uniting Church way" of doing things.

On the final day, we transitioned into small groups to preach and receive feedback from mentors. I felt a unique sense of responsibility: How would my preaching represent the heart of the Uniting Church to this group? I received encouraging words, though it was noted—perhaps predictably—that my sermon was a bit on the shorter side compared to their tradition!

During the session, observing the intense and rigorous feedback given to others, I found myself in a moment of deep reflection. That uncomfortable, unfamiliar space didn't push me away; instead, it became a mirror. For the first time, my identity as a Uniting Church minister, which I had always taken for granted, began to stand out in sharp relief.

I realized that it was this very sense of being "different" that clearly defined who I was. It wasn't about judging which tradition was right or wrong. Rather, it was a mysterious and beautiful experience: I saw myself more clearly than ever. I realized, "This is who I am. I truly love our ministry, our tradition, our way of reading Scripture, and the spirit of unity that shapes how we serve."

Being surrounded by people who did things differently didn't make me feel smaller. Instead, it made me feel more authentic. By seeing them clearly in their tradition, I could finally see myself clearly in mine.

To truly find out who we are, we sometimes need to step into the unknown. We need those unfamiliar places where nothing is there to define or back us up. It is in those moments—when we are stripped of the familiar—that we finally come face-to-face with our true selves.

If we want to find out who we truly are, we need to step into the unknown. We need those unfamiliar places. Think about being in a spot where nothing is familiar. There’s nothing there to define you. Nothing to back you up. That is the moment we finally come face-to-face with the “real us.” I think that’s why we love to travel.

We go to strange places. We hear different languages. We try unfamiliar food. We experience different culture…. It’s uncomfortable. But that discomfort actually creates a space, a space for us… to understand ourselves better. Everything suddenly comes into focus. That’s when we truly see who we are….

And I believe... that is exactly what happened to Thomas this morning.  Now, I know what some of you are thinking. "Right. Here we go. Another sermon on 'Doubting Thomas.’ But I want to do something ..a little different this morning. Instead of just reflecting on his doubt, I want to look at where that doubt actually came.  

Just imagine what it was really like for Thomas. Picture him standing there. He’s in a room full of people who are all sharing this incredible, powerful experience. He simply hasn’t had yet. He’s the only one …on the outside. Because I think that's actually our story, especially now, in the weeks after Easter.

The other disciples are saying, "We have seen the Lord!" Can you imagine the energy in that room? ….The tears, the laughter, the disbelief turning into joy? Everyone is sharing this incredible moment, everyone! except Thomas …

He walks in, and suddenly the community he's lived with, grieved with, been afraid with …. that community has become the most unfamiliar place in the world.

 "Thomas! Where have you been? You won't believe it,  we saw Jesus! Right here in this room!"

Some were probably still shaking, some in tears, some unable to find the words. Thomas had never seen his friends like this before. But here’s the thing: He wasn't there. He didn't see what they saw. And as much as he probably wanted to believe them, something inside him just wouldn't let him.  "I’m not so sure," ……while everyone else is shouting, "Yes! Absolutely! No doubt about it!"

That is a very isolating place to be. But it’s right there in that lonely, strange space….Thomas finds his most honest voice.

"Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe." (John 20:25)

We've been a bit unfair… to Thomas. "Doubting Thomas" has become a common phrase, but I think that is seriously underestimates him. 

Look at John 14. When Jesus says, "You know the way to the place I'm going," eleven disciples nod along. Thomas is the one who raises his hand: "Lord, we don't know where you're going, so how can we know the way?" Is that doubt  or is that honesty? This takes courage.

And look at John 11. When Jesus was about to head back to Judea, a place where his life was at risk—the other disciples were hesitating by fear. But it was Thomas was different, he stepped up and said, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” I would say, that doesn't sound like a "doubter" to me. Doubters don't make commitments.

When we put all the pieces together, we can describe, introverted, Sensing, Thinking, and Judging. He needed to see, to touch, to verify … not because he was stubborn, but because that's how God made him.  So…Thomas, what we often call 'doubt' was actually his way of searching and discerning.

So, keeping that in mind about Thomas, Now,  here's the detail that I think,  is the key to everything. Verse 26: "A week later." Eight days after the resurrection, Jesus appears again.

For eight days, Thomas lived alongside disciples who were saying they had seen the risen Lord. This careful, observant man watched them closely. 

And what did he see? People still hiding behind locked doors. Still afraid. Nothing had changed.  Thomas was essentially saying: If you really met the risen Lord, why are you still cowering in this room? 

They should have thrown those doors open, run into the streets, and shouted, "Jesus is alive!" They should have been dancing for joy. Sitting there among these unchanged disciples, Thomas had to face his own truth. He realized: “I don’t believe it. I don’t know yet. I’m just not the kind of person who can believe this without seeing it for myself.” “Looking at you, I just can’t believe it.” Thomas knew that. And that’s why he couldn't just take their word for it. 

And then Jesus comes. Not to argue. But to meet him precisely where he is.  “Put your finger here.” In that moment, it all clicked. Thomas realized that even in those eight days of silence, he was never truly alone. Jesus had been there, listening to his painful question.

And here is the beautiful thing: Thomas never actually touched the wounds. He didn't need to. Seeing Jesus was enough. He cries out, “My Lord and my God”

My brothers and sisters, what is the message we find in Thomas today?

Thomas's empty place in that room  that's our place. Think about him for a moment. While everyone else was shouting for joy, he was the only one left wondering. He was the only one for whom it didn’t quite "click."  That is exactly where we find ourselves today.

We live in a world that feels increasingly unfamiliar. It feels like waves crashing over us, one after another. I don’t need tell you what is happing…this days…. Yes, this isn't the world we hoped for…..but that is exactly where we find ourselves.

We look around and see that people just aren’t looking for God anymore. Even the church is starting to feel like a stranger in this world. Every day, we have to live our lives among people who don’t believe what we believe. I was out playing golf with someone I'd never met… four hours together….At some point he said, half joking: "Do people actually still go to church?"

I wasn't offended. Something just quietly clicked: Oh. This moment is showing me… who I am. I'm a Christian. I'm an Easter person.   We see than. Those places don't destroy faith. They refine us. They reveal what is truth.

Let me share something with you. At my previous church, there was a nursing home nearby. They'd sometimes call when someone was in their final hours. One visit has stayed with me. I got dressed, drove over, walked down the corridor quiet in that particular way… nursing homes are. The family had gathered around the bed. The lady lying there had been a Methodist her whole life. I introduced myself as warmly as I could. But the room stayed… still. Not hostile,  just uncertain. I opened my folder and read the prayer I had prepared. I prayed over their loved one. I prayed for the family. When I said "Amen” no one really said anything. Just glances exchanged across the room. Polite nods. A kind of silence that's really really really hard to describe.

I remember sitting in my car afterwards thinking: I shouldn't go back. We were both uncomfortable. I wondered, 'What's the point of coming back here?' I felt like a fish out of water.

But later, when the nursing home called me again for another resident, I had to go. I realised that at least that person lying on the bed struggling for breath , unable to speak, and about to be held in the arms of God, is the one who truly and surely welcomes me.  In those sacred, silent rooms, I found who I was. That is Thomas's story. And I believe … it is ours too

Where there is shouting, we are the ones who listen. Where there is fear, we bring peace.

Where there is loneliness, we make room. In the darkness, we don’t just talk about the light, we are the light. People may not read the Bible, but they will read our lives. We are the "People of the Resurrection" not because we never doubt, but because we have met the One who knows our hearts.

My friends, this unfamiliar world cannot destroy us. It may shake us, but it will only reveal who we truly are in Christ. Just as Jesus visited Thomas in his loneliest moment, the Risen Lord is meeting us right now wherever we are! Whoever we are, that’s is way we sing, “Come as you are”

As we go, I leave us with two questions: In our current struggle, what are we discovering about ourselves in that place?

And where… can we see the 'resurrection' breaking through?

May these uncertain places become our greatest blessing the very place we encounter the living God. Go out from this room not just as those who heard a story, but as Easter people living evidence that Jesus is alive.

Go and be that evidence.

Amen.