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Series: N/A
Service: Lord’s Supper Service
Type: Lord's Supper Talk
Speaker: Dwayne Gandy
Series: Life and Character of David
Service: Sun Bible Study
Type: Bible Class
Speaker: Dwayne Gandy
Series: Life and Character of David
Service: Wed Bible Study
Type: Bible Class
Speaker: Dwayne Gandy
Series: N/A
Service: Lord’s Supper Service
Type: Lord's Supper Talk
Speaker: Brian Messerli
Series: N/A
Service: Praise and Preaching Service
Type: Sermon
Speaker: Dwayne Gandy
“My Lord and My God”: The Faith Journey of a Former Skeptic
(Based entirely on the sermon: “My Lord and My God – Faith of a Former Skeptic”)
04-20-25 - Transcript - My Lord…
When the world pauses to think about the resurrection of Jesus—especially during seasons when the resurrection occupies the minds of friends, neighbors, and family—it is helpful for Christians to revisit the story of Thomas. Thomas is one of the twelve apostles, a man whose journey from committed disciple, to confused skeptic, to bold confessor serves as one of the most encouraging character arcs in the Gospel of John.
His story matters to us because Thomas is real. He is loyal, courageous, sincere, and yet deeply confused when suffering, uncertainty, and death confront his expectations. He struggles honestly. He asks questions courageously. He wrestles with frustration and disappointment. And yet when clarity finally comes to him, he makes the highest, most personal confession of Jesus recorded in the Gospels.
Thomas teaches us that a good heart can still experience real intellectual struggle, and that God is patient with good hearts that need more information.
The Three Episodes of Thomas’s Journey
John’s Gospel gives us three stories that highlight Thomas more than any other Gospel writer. In these three episodes, we see:
These three stories form a single narrative arc that helps us understand Thomas’s faith, his doubt, his fear, and his remarkable transformation.
Story One: A Courageous and Loyal Heart (John 11)
The first time we hear Thomas speak is in John 11—the chapter containing the resurrection of Lazarus. Jesus receives word that Lazarus, His dear friend, is sick. Lazarus and his sisters, Mary and Martha, lived in Bethany, just two miles from Jerusalem, and Jesus loved them dearly.
Mary and Martha send word asking Jesus to come to Bethany to heal their brother. It is a logical request. They know that Jesus has healed many before, and they believe He can heal Lazarus as well.
But there is a complication. Jesus and His disciples had recently left Judea because the religious leaders were trying to kill Him for healing on the Sabbath and for calling Himself the Son of God. Jesus has escaped to Galilee, away from the epicenter of hostility.
When Lazarus becomes sick, Jesus deliberately waits two days before traveling south toward Bethany. After the delay, Jesus tells His disciples, “Let us go to Judea again.” The disciples immediately protest. The last time they were there, the religious leaders tried to kill Jesus. Logic tells them not to go.
Jesus then tells them that Lazarus has fallen asleep. The disciples misunderstand. They think Lazarus is sleeping naturally and will recover. So Jesus finally states plainly: “Lazarus is dead.”
His disciples are heartbroken. These men likely loved Lazarus too. Jesus then explains, “I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, that you may believe. Nevertheless, let us go to him.”
That surprising statement—“I am glad he is dead, so that you may believe”—reveals that Jesus is preparing the disciples to witness something they have never seen before: resurrection power.
At this point Thomas speaks his first recorded words:
“Let us also go, that we may die with Him.”
This sentence reveals more about Thomas than any quick label ever could.
Thomas Had a Committed Heart
All the apostles had given up everything to follow Jesus, but Thomas expresses a level of commitment that is remarkable. He is not half-hearted. He is not straddling two paths. He is fully devoted.
Thomas Had a Courageous Heart
While others argued that returning to Judea would be fatal, Thomas courageously declares that following Jesus is worth dying for. He does not say, “Let us go and see what happens.” He says, “Let us go and die with Him.”
Thomas Had a Loyal Heart
Thomas is not a spectator. He is a disciple who is willing to suffer and die with Jesus if necessary. His loyalty is unquestionable.
His character here is inspiring. If Thomas never appeared again in the Gospel record, we would remember him as one of the most courageous and loyal of the Apostles.
Yet even such a heart does not guarantee understanding. Thomas has great devotion and yet does not fully grasp what Jesus is about to do.
Thomas Witnesses Resurrection Power
Jesus eventually arrives in Bethany. Martha greets Him with heartbreaking honesty: “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.” Martha knows Jesus has the power to heal, but she does not yet understand that Jesus has power over death itself.
Jesus then makes one of the most powerful statements in the New Testament:
“I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in Me, though he die, he shall live.”
Thomas hears Jesus say this. Jesus is not merely teaching resurrection—He is identifying Himself as resurrection.
Then Jesus calls Lazarus from the tomb. He does not touch the grave. He does not send for anyone. He simply speaks: “Lazarus, come forth.”
Lazarus walks out alive, wrapped in burial cloth. Some of the disciples probably help unwrap him. Thomas may have been among those who loosened the wrappings from Lazarus’s hands and face.
Thomas has now witnessed public, undeniable resurrection power.
Yet understanding still lags behind experience.
Faith can be wholehearted and yet still puzzled.
A loyal heart does not always produce immediate clarity.
Story Two: A Sincere but Confused Mind (John 14)
The next recorded words from Thomas come on the night when Jesus institutes the Lord’s Supper and washes the disciples’ feet. It is the night before the crucifixion. Jesus knows His betrayal, suffering, and death are imminent. So He speaks words meant to comfort:
“Let not your heart be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in Me.”
Jesus assures the disciples of future hope. He tells them:
“In My Father’s house are many mansions… I go to prepare a place for you… and where I go, you know, and the way you know.”
These statements are beautiful and reassuring—but Thomas does not understand them.
Thomas says:
“Lord, we do not know where You are going. How can we know the way?”
Thomas is intellectually honest. He has enough courage to speak up when the other disciples remain silent. His confusion is reasonable: if you do not know the destination, how can you know the route?
Jesus answers with another defining statement:
“I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.”
The way is not information. The way is a Person. Jesus Himself is the path to the Father.
Thomas hears these words, but they do not yet resolve his confusion.
Here is the lesson:
Thomas’s heart was not the problem. His understanding was.
Good hearts may lack clarity. When understanding is incomplete, confusion is natural—not sinful. Understanding problems are easier to correct than heart problems. A good heart can learn more information, more evidence, more explanation, and come into fuller faith. Jesus is patient with honest confusion.
Story Three: The Crushing Confusion in the Garden
Later that same night, Jesus enters the garden where Judas arrives with officers from the chief priests and a detachment of Roman soldiers. Jesus boldly identifies Himself: “I am He.” The soldiers fall backward in shock. Jesus then commands: “If you seek Me, let these go their way.” And the soldiers bind Jesus and lead Him away.
For Thomas, this moment is unbearable. He was willing to fight and die with Jesus in Bethany. He has already resolved that loyalty is worth death. But he does not understand a Messiah who surrenders without resistance.
This is not the victory Thomas expected. Moments earlier, crowds shouted “Hosanna!” as Jesus entered Jerusalem. Days later Jesus stands bound, without defending Himself.
Thomas may also have felt personally rejected. When Jesus says, “Let these go their way,” Thomas may have wondered whether he has been excluded from something sacred. He had pledged to die with Jesus—but Jesus dismisses them and goes on alone.
This is deep confusion.
Thomas knew who Jesus was—but now he has no idea what Jesus is doing.
Even people with strong commitment can be spiritually disoriented when life contradicts their expectations.
Thomas is loyal, courageous, and devoted, but the suffering Messiah makes no sense to him.
Story Four: The Crisis of the First Resurrection Reports (John 20)
On the first day of the week, women go to the tomb and find it empty. They return and tell the disciples—including Thomas—that Jesus is alive. Luke tells us that their report seemed to the disciples like “idle chatter.”
Out of eleven disciples present that morning, only two—Peter and John—go to the tomb. Thomas, like most of the apostles, does not go.
Later that evening, ten of the disciples are gathered behind locked doors. They are afraid of the Jews. Suddenly Jesus appears among them and says, “Peace be with you.” He shows them His hands and side. They are filled with overwhelming gladness.
Jesus then breathes on them and says, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” He commissions them with authority and mission: “As the Father has sent Me, I also send you.”
But Thomas is not present.
We do not know where he was. We only know what he missed:
For eight days the other ten apostles live with transformed minds and resurrected hope. Thomas lives with confusion and heartache.
The disciples tell him, “We have seen the Lord!”
Thomas responds with a statement that earned him an unfortunate nickname:
“Unless I see the print of the nails and put my hand into His side, I will not believe.”
Thomas is not rebellious. His heart is good. His understanding is wounded. His skepticism grows from disappointment, confusion, and a longing for clarity.
Many Christians have felt this way at some point. We feel passed by. We wonder whether we have missed our opportunity. We wish we had been more faithful or more attentive when God was moving. We regret decisions or absences or moments when we were not where we should have been.
Thomas assures us that if we are still breathing, Jesus is not finished with us.
Thomas’s Victory: The Greatest Confession (John 20:26–29)
Eight days later, the disciples are together again, and Thomas is present this time. Again the doors are locked. Again Jesus appears in the room and says, “Peace to you.”
Jesus immediately turns toward Thomas—the confused disciple, the absent disciple, the man caught between loyalty and bewilderment.
Jesus says:
“Reach your finger here, and look at My hands; and reach your hand here, and put it into My side. Do not be unbelieving, but believing.”
Jesus gives Thomas exactly what he asked for—not because Thomas’s heart is hard, but because His heart is searching.
We have no evidence that Thomas touches Jesus at all. The Gospel says only that Thomas answers:
“My Lord and my God.”
Not simply Lord or Son of God.
“My Lord and my God.”
This is the highest and most personal confession in the Gospels. Thomas recognizes Jesus in resurrection glory—not only as Messiah, but as divine.
Jesus then speaks about you and me:
“Thomas, because you have seen Me, you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
Thomas believed because he saw Jesus. We believe because of eyewitness testimony. The New Testament gives us layers of testimony: the women, Peter, John, the apostles, and 500 witnesses at one time. Paul tells his readers that most of the 500 were still alive—you could go verify the resurrection with living witnesses.
Thomas’s story shows that faith built on evidence is reasonable, strong, and personal. We are blessed because we believe without physical sight, trusting credible eyewitnesses whose testimony has stood unchanged for 2,000 years.
From Confusion to Clarity
Thomas’s faith journey matters because it mirrors ours:
Thomas became a powerful witness and eventually a martyr. Tradition says he was killed by spears for preaching the risen Christ. His loyalty, courage, and conviction never left him.
The risen Jesus gives every confused disciple a second opportunity. If you are alive, you have not missed out. Jesus invites you, as He invited Thomas, to move from uncertainty to personal confession:
“My Lord and my God.”
Series: Life and Character of David
Service: Sun Bible Study
Type: Bible Class
Speaker: Dwayne Gandy
Series: Life and Character of David
Service: Wed Bible Study
Type: Bible Class
Speaker: Dwayne Gandy
Series: Life and Character of David
Service: Adult Class
Type: Bible Class
Speaker: Dwayne Gandy
Series: N/A
Service: Lord’s Supper Service
Type: Lord's Supper Talk
Speaker: Dwayne Gandy
The Dignity of Jesus (Part 2
Two weeks ago, we fixed our minds on a picture that is difficult to forget. Jesus hanging on the cross. Alone. Stripped of His clothing. Covered in blood. His body broken, His spirit unbroken. The crowds jeered. His friends were gone. His enemies laughed. The soldiers gambled for the last visible symbol of His dignity at the foot of the cross.
There was no robe, no crown, no army, no advocate. No throne. No palace. No public defense. By every human standard, Jesus appeared humiliated, disgraced, and defeated. And yet, no one in history has ever looked more dignified than Jesus did in that moment.
The reason Jesus remained dignified, even in the face of unimaginable humiliation, was that Satan was never able to separate Him from His identity. Jesus knew who He was. He knew where His value came from. And He refused to let that be taken away.
In this lesson, we look more deeply at one of Satan’s primary strategies: redefining Jesus through false names and accusations. Satan understood that if he could convince others to misidentify Jesus, they would forsake Him. And if he could get Jesus to misidentify Himself, the mission would fail.
Jesus knew the stakes. He could not misidentify Himself, or He would forsake the Father.
That battle becomes especially clear in the Garden of Gethsemane.
In Mark 14, Jesus has already established the memorial. He has washed the disciples’ feet. He has shared the bread and the cup. Now He withdraws to pray. Leaving most of the disciples behind, He takes Peter, James, and John a little farther, and then goes on alone. There, overwhelmed with sorrow, He falls to the ground and prays.
“Abba, Father… all things are possible for You. Take this cup away from Me. Nevertheless, not what I will, but what You will.”
The word “Abba” is deeply significant. It is an Aramaic term of intimacy, trust, and affection, much like a child calling out, “Daddy.” It is not casual, nor manipulative. It is deeply personal and reverent. Jesus was not using the word to escape suffering or to bargain with God. He was anchoring Himself to His identity as the Son.
Jesus knew He was about to walk directly into Satan’s fiercest attempt to separate Him from the Father. And in that moment, He reaffirmed who God was to Him and who He was to God. His dignity rested on that unshakable relationship.
From that point forward, accusations come rapidly, each one designed to redefine Jesus in the minds of others and, if possible, in His own mind.
In John 18, the Jewish leaders bring Jesus before Pilate and offer a vague but damning accusation: “If this man were not doing evil, we would not have delivered Him over to you.” Notice the strategy. No specifics. No evidence. Just a label. “Evil doer.”
The irony is staggering. As Peter later tells Cornelius in Acts 10, Jesus “went about doing good.” Healing the oppressed. Restoring the broken. Bringing hope where there was despair. And yet Satan successfully persuaded people to label the embodiment of goodness as evil.
Jesus did not accept the label.
Another accusation follows in Luke 23: “He is misleading the nation.” The truth is exactly the opposite. Jesus never misled anyone. The religious leaders were the ones who perverted fasting, prayer, giving, and truth itself. Jesus had warned that unless righteousness exceeded that of the scribes and Pharisees, no one would enter the kingdom of heaven.
Not long before this, Jesus had told His disciples, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” The irony is painful. The Truth Himself is accused of deception. But Jesus did not surrender His identity. He knew He was not merely a truth-teller. He was the Truth.
Another charge is that Jesus forbade paying taxes to Caesar. This, too, was false. Jesus had explicitly taught, “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” The most honest teacher the world has ever known was accused of rebellion and dishonesty. Jesus did not waver.
Then comes one of the most ironic accusations of all: that Jesus claimed to be a king in opposition to Caesar. Jesus made it clear to Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world.” He had no interest in overthrowing Rome or reorganizing earthly governments. And yet, the Prince of Peace is accused of political insurrection.
By definition, only one person in a kingdom cannot be guilty of insurrection: the king. Jesus is the King of kings and Lord of lords. The accusation collapses under its own weight. Still, Jesus does not defend Himself. He does not argue His case. He clings to His identity.
They accuse Him of blasphemy for claiming to be the Son of God, while God Himself had declared, “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” They accuse Him of stirring up the people, while He taught, “Blessed are the peacemakers,” and promised, “Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you.”
They accuse the Prince of Peace of disturbing the peace.
They accuse Him of being a threat to the temple and religious order, while Jesus declared that He came not to destroy the law and the prophets, but to fulfill them. He is the true temple. He is the fulfillment of God’s redemptive plan.
They accuse Him of working by the power of the devil, while Jesus cast out demons by the finger of God. They call Him a deceiver, while no falsehood ever entered His mouth.
Each accusation is a direct assault on identity. Satan was relentless because he knew the truth: if Jesus ever let go of who He was, everything would be lost.
But Jesus never did.
Through every false name, every distortion, every lie, Jesus held fast to His identity as the Son of God. He did not simply act peacefully; He was peace. He did not merely speak truth; He was truth. He did not merely obey God; He trusted Him completely.
At the table, we remember more than a man who suffered unjustly. We remember the Son of God who refused to be redefined by lies. His perfect life became our peace offering. His unwavering identity restored ours.
Because of Jesus, we are no longer enemies of God. We are no longer separated. We are saints. We are children. We are reconciled. And this memorial reminds us not only of who Jesus is, but of who we are because of Him.
Biblical remembering is active. It shapes how we live. As we eat the bread and drink the cup, we remember what Jesus did, what it means, and what it calls us to become. We live with dignity because our identity is secure in Him.
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