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Last weekend at Easter, we witnessed something unprecedented in our church's history. Before diving into today's teaching, I want to celebrate what God did in just one weekend.
Our in-person attendance reached 43,398 people—we were literally trying to cram everyone into our buildings. I know some of you experienced full parking lots and overflow services; I apologize for that and ask that you come a little earlier next time.
When we include our digital disciples and online family, our total attendance last weekend was 71,883 people worshiping Jesus with us.
But the number that matters most to me isn't the crowd size. We're not in the crowd business; we're in the disciple business. Jesus said to go and make disciples, not just big crowds. The number that moved me is this: 3,174 people indicated a first-time decision to follow Christ. In one weekend, we had a Pentecost moment. In Acts 2, about 3,000 people were saved—and we just matched that.
If you were one of those people who crossed the line of faith, let me be your pastor for a moment. Jesus said that if anybody will follow Him, they must be willing to take up their cross daily. The first step as a disciple is baptism in water—a visible representation of the invisible reality of being cleansed and washed of our sin by the blood of Christ.
Here's something I need to say gently but with an edge: if you won't follow Him into water, I promise you won't follow Him to a cross.
Next weekend is baptism weekend at Lakepointe. We're going to have a big party, and we'll baptize hundreds of people who have crossed the line of faith. If you're one of those people or if you've never been baptized after giving your life to Christ, text the word LIFE to 20411 right now and we'll get you signed up.
I know what you're thinking—it's going to be weird, awkward, embarrassing. But no. Thousands of people are going to be watching and cheering for you. We're on your team. This is going to be awesome.
We're starting a new series this week called "Honest to God." Here's what this series is: I'm looking for fresh ways to preach verse by verse through passages of Scripture because the power is in the Word of God.
This series focuses on encounters people have with Jesus while they're struggling with things everybody experiences but nobody wants to talk about—things like doubt, addiction, condemnation, and shame. One week we'll talk about sexual brokenness. But here's what you'll notice: at the exact moment somebody gets honest to God, Jesus breaks that thing off them, sets them free, and breaks the power of sin.
The moment you bring that thing to Jesus, freedom starts to happen.
Before we dive into today's text, I want to tell you about something I learned from a book called Case for Faith by Lee Strobel. At the beginning, Lee tells the story of two men as a contrast.
Both were saved in 1936. Both professed faith in 1936. By 1945, both were the two most prominent preachers and evangelists in the United States. The man on the left is Charles Templeton; the man on the right is Billy Graham.
That photo was taken in 1945. Both were young, gifted preachers. Both were preaching to huge crowds, leading thousands to Jesus, filling stadiums. Many people predicted that Charles Templeton, not Billy Graham, would have the better career as a preacher. He seemed like the more illustrious of the two.
But shortly after that photo was taken, Charles Templeton began to experience what he called "gnawing doubts" about the truth of his faith in Jesus. His doubts centered on three things:
During this crisis, Charles and Billy were very good friends. Charles tried to pull Billy Graham into his skepticism toward Christianity and actually caused a crisis of faith in Billy's life—something Billy wrote about years later.
Their lives took different paths. Billy Graham went on to become the most prolific evangelist in human history, preaching to an estimated two billion people and leading over two million to Christ. Charles Templeton eventually renounced his faith altogether, resigned from ministry, moved to Canada, and became a commentator and novelist. In 2001, he wrote a sad book entitled Saying Farewell to God.
In his interview with Lee Strobel, now 83 years old, Lee wrote this reflection: "Today, Templeton's faith repeatedly punctured by persistent and obstinate doubts has leaked away." Then he added: "Maybe forever."
Let me put a pin in that. I'm coming back to it.
As a pastor, a Christian, and just someone watching this unfold, the Bible is very clear: everyone everywhere is going to walk through the valley of the shadow of death at some point in their life.
But what people don't talk about quite as often is this: I'm going to make you a promise. At some point in your life as a Christian, you are probably going to walk through the valley of the shadow of doubt.
My job in this sermon is to tell you what to do when you get to that moment.
Here's something extremely important that's happening right under our noses: Point one—in our culture, doubt is on the decline.
When I was in high school in the late 1990s, every year they would trot out charts and graphs. Line graphs showing faith in Jesus—and it was always down. Every year there'd be a new chart going down, down, down, and they'd prognosticate: "If this trend continues, we'll see the collapse of faith in America by such-and-such year."
But something's happening right now. For the first time in 70 years, faith in Jesus is surging in our nation. Surging.
I'm in group texts with pastors all over the country. Everyone, everywhere is seeing record attendance, surging faith, the most baptisms, high momentum.
Let me waterboard you with data and headlines:
USA Today: "Not just Easter, Gen Z is returning to Christianity. Data proves it."
Another study: "Gen Z is half as likely as their parents to identify as atheists."
YUGGOV: "No sex, no booze, we're off to church. Gen Z have found God." The study reveals that young adults, particularly men, are moving toward faith and toward the church. This is significant because traditionally we've had more women than men in church. Young men especially are returning.
International growth: "The Quiet Revival—Gen Z leads rise in church attendance in England and Wales." The article states: "Church decline in England and Wales has not only stopped, the church is growing as Gen Z leads an exciting turnaround."
From France: Record number of adult baptisms shows a 45% increase from 2024 figures. The survey data, gathered over 20 years, shows the highest numbers ever recorded. Young adults now constitute the largest segment of converts.
Wall Street Journal: "Sales of Bibles are booming." Publishers attribute a 22% year-over-year jump in Bible sales to rising anxiety and a generation's search for hope.
Barna Research: "Belief in Jesus reaches a decade high level."
Team Jesus is winning, y'all. I read the end of the book, and we win. You're on a winning team.
To Gen Z: where are you at? Look around. Way to go. I'm fired up about this because for the last 10 years, everybody's been making fun of your generation. "Oh, all these lazy, TikTok, anxiety-ridden people. You're good for nothing."
But here's what my Bible says. Let me speak this over you: "You shall be called the repairers of the breach and the restorers of the streets to dwell in." You're going to do things our generation didn't. God's using you right now, and we're behind you.
To everyone: people have been shouting at me for 20 years, "Stand on the right side of history." Here's how you stand on the right side of history: be on the same side as the one who died to redeem history and is going to end history by returning to judge the living and the dead.
Now, a hard emotional gear shift. We went way up, and now we're coming back down. Point two—doubt is inevitable.
Look at this passage from John 20. This is post-resurrection. It says: "Now, Thomas, one of the 12, called Didymus."
Let me explain something. Didymus was a Greek word meaning "twin." Thomas was almost certainly an identical twin. Here's what bothers me: Thomas gets the short end of the stick on nicknames. What's his nickname? We all know it. We call him "Doubting Thomas."
This dude had one moment of doubt in his entire life, and we've defined him by it forever. Don't define people by their worst moments. Peter cursed Jesus the night he was betrayed—do we call him "Profanity Peter"? No.
Here's what church history tells us: After Thomas came back to vibrant faith in Jesus, he walked from Jerusalem to India. He was the first person to take the gospel to India. Today, there's still a Christian community named after Thomas—they're the spiritual great-great-great-grandchildren of Thomas, planting churches and carrying on his legacy.
Church history tells us he was martyred for his faith. He converted the wife of a king and refused to bow down to a pagan god.
How about we call him "Courageous Thomas"? How about we call him "Bold Thomas"? How about we call him "Faithful Thomas"?
This man either gets "Doubting Thomas" or "T. Diddy." Poor guy can't win.
Thomas had witnessed everything—he heard the sermons, saw the miracles, and didn't just watch them; he participated in them. He literally walked around with bread in his hands when Jesus fed the 5,000. He heard eyewitnesses tell him, "We just saw Jesus. He's alive." And he still doubted.
But here's what's important to understand: doubt is inevitable. We don't live in a perfect world where everything makes sense. We live in a fallen, sinful, broken world where almost nothing makes sense. This is why the New Testament is remarkably honest about the doubts of Jesus's followers.
Consider John the Baptist. He was filled with the Holy Spirit from birth—the only person in the entire Bible of whom this is true. He had a prophetic vision when he first saw Jesus: "Behold, the Lamb of God that takes away the sins of the world." He knew who Jesus was. Yet when John was imprisoned, awaiting his execution, he sent word asking, "Are you the one who is to come, or should we be looking for another?" He was doubting the very message he had preached his entire life.
Or consider Matthew 28, right after the resurrection. The disciples saw the resurrected Jesus, touched him, witnessed everything. Then Jesus ascended into heaven before their eyes. Yet the text says: "When they saw him, they worshiped him. But some doubted." They literally just watched him levitate into the clouds, and some were still like, "Yeah, I'm not sure. I need a little more."
I want to point something out: both Thomas and John the Baptist experienced their acute moments of doubt during extreme emotional compression. Thomas had just witnessed the Lord's crucifixion—massive trauma. John was sitting in prison waiting to be executed.
Here's what I've observed as a pastor: Human nature, you do not see things as they are. You see things as you are. When you're at the grocery store hungry, sushi-flavored Oreos start looking good. You're not seeing things as they are.
I've seen people in the worst emotional situations of their lives—the most depressed, most traumatized, most relationally wounded—make a decision to walk away from faith. And here's the problem: they're seeing things the least clearly and have the most distorted vision.
So here's my warning: Don't make a permanent decision based on a temporary emotion. Don't doubt in the dark what you saw clearly in the light.
This is so important. If you miss this, Satan's going to lock you up with it.
When Jesus appeared to Thomas eight days later, He didn't answer all of Thomas's questions. He didn't explain why He had to die. He didn't explain why it felt like He had abandoned them. Instead, Jesus said: "Thomas, put your finger here. See my hands. Put out your hand. Place it in my side. Don't disbelieve. Believe."
And Thomas went from doubting to shouting: "My Lord and my God!"
Now, here's what I want you to see. The Greek word translated "believe" or "faith" is pisteuō. And this word means to trust. It does not mean to understand. In fact, the Bible talks about "a peace that surpasses all understanding." What God means is: in order for you to have peace, you have to give up your right to understand.
Think about it this way: If God is the size of the Pacific Ocean and your mind is the size of a Capri Sun, there are some things you should expect not to fit. There's going to be some things that don't fit.
But here's what Thomas did—and what the disciples all eventually did: They carried their questions and doubts, and they started following Jesus anyway. They were like, "Man, there's some stuff over here that doesn't make sense, but that dude was raised from the dead. I'm going to follow the guy that walked out of the grave. Someday He's going to answer all this stuff. Until then, I'm following Him with these doubts, but I'm following Him."
Let me give you the best analogy I can. About eight years ago, I went skydiving for the first time. You go 12,000 feet in the air, and that moment is awesome. You're literally flying. But then comes the jump.
In that moment, I'm 90% sure I didn't say a cuss word, but I'm 100% sure I thought one.
Now, here's my question: In that moment, did I have fears? Did I have questions? Was I doubting my decision? Yes. Unequivocally, yes.
But I still jumped.
So here's the question: Did I have faith? Yes.
This is the key: Faith is not the absence of questions. Faith is the presence of trust in the midst of your fears, doubts, and questions.
If you've got doubts, you're going to make a great disciple, because the disciples had a lot of doubts. But watch what the disciples did with their doubts—they carried them and followed Jesus anyway.
Here's the theology: Satan oversees a dominion of darkness. But the Bible says that if we walk in the light as Jesus is in the light, the blood of Jesus covers us and cleanses us from all of our sins.
Satan does darkness. Jesus is in the light.
Don't try to fight the devil in the dark. If you fight the devil in the dark, you're always going to lose because the darkness is his dominion. Here's what Satan wants you to do with sin, doubts, questions, and shame: he wants to lock you up. Keep it in the dark all by yourself. Don't process it with any other Christians. Keep it private, hidden, secret. And when he gets you isolated in the darkness, he's going to ground and pound you with condemnation, shame, and a feeling of disqualification. You're probably not even saved. None of this stuff is true.
But Jesus is not in the darkness. He's in the light.
So here's what you do with your doubts: You find people of God who have faith, who have an intimacy with Jesus, who love you, who have conviction and courage and a backbone. And then you drag whatever you're struggling with—your doubts, your questions, your sins, your addictions, your failures, your shame—you drag it all out into the light with those other believers.
Once you drag it out of the darkness into the light, that's where Jesus is. And you let Him reign victorious over that thing. Because that's what Jesus does when you bring it to Him.
Jesus was not angry with Thomas's doubt. Look at the gentle mercy of Jesus: "Thomas, put your finger here. See my hands. Put out your hand. Put it on my side."
Here's the last point: Jesus meets your doubts with a demonstration.
Now, I know what some of you are thinking: "Yeah, but He did that for Thomas. He's not doing that for me. I'm not sticking my fingers in skin holes." Fair point.
But I want to say something gently: Yes, He has given you a demonstration.
Listen to what Romans 1 says:
For what can be known about God is plain to them. God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely his eternal power and his divine nature, have been clearly perceived ever since the creation of the world.
God is saying: I have made it clear to everyone. In creation itself, in the way that the world has been created, there is evidence of a creator. I have made it plain. It is very clear.
Sociologists and archaeologists have pointed out that they have never discovered a civilization, society, or tribe that when discovered did not have some belief in God, the supernatural, or the divine. Never. Why? Because God has made it clear to us in the things that have been created. Creation implies a creator.
And here's what Romans 1 concludes: "So they are without excuse." No one will stand before Jesus in final judgment and say, "You didn't give me enough evidence." God says, "Yes, I did. Everything around you declares My glory."
If you're someone who says, "I struggle to believe in God," listen to this:
Scientist Sir Roger Penrose calculated the likelihood of the universe having this precise of a design—the fine-tuning of all the factors of physics that are exactly as they need to be for life to exist. His calculation? 10 billion to the 123rd power. That's a 1 followed by 123 zeros. A number human minds cannot comprehend.
Atheist scientist Stephen Hawking said in A Brief History of Time that at the moment of the Big Bang, if the expansion rate of the universe was different by even one 100,000th millionth of 1%, the universe would have collapsed back on itself. That precise.
The genetic odds of you existing as a human? 400 trillion to one. You are not an accident.
In 1944, scientists discovered that underneath our genetic existence is a complex language called DNA. Underneath who you are is a language. Who wrote the language? If one person's DNA was unraveled and stretched end to end, it would stretch to Pluto and back. One person.
You say it takes too much faith to believe in a creator. But let me ask you: Have you ever seen non-intellect produce intellect? Have you ever seen non-life produce life? Have you ever seen a massive explosion produce design and order?
Every explosion I have ever seen led to destruction and chaos—not design and order.
You say you struggle to trust the Bible because they're ancient texts. But consider this: Homer, Plato, Aristotle, and Caesar combined have a few hundred surviving manuscripts, and the earliest ones are more than 500 years after their original writing. Yet the New Testament is the most attested document in human history, with more than 6,000 surviving manuscripts dating to within years or decades of its writing.
So why do you trust that Caesar, Homer, and Plato existed when there are exponentially fewer things written about them than about Jesus?
You say you struggle to believe in things like the virgin birth of Christ. But you believe in the virgin birth of the universe—that everything came from nothing, with no one, no problem.
There are over 2,000 fulfilled prophecies from the Bible confirmed in the Old Testament and New Testament. The evidence is there.
God has given you a demonstration. You have to listen to what He's already shown you.
You look at the world and ask, "Why is there so much suffering? People are starving, oppressed, hungry, and broken. Where is God?" But I want to turn that question around. God is looking at us and asking, "Where are you? I made you in my image. I set my love upon you. I gave you my resources. Where are you? Feeding the hungry, healing the broken, helping the hurting. Where are you?"
You say, "Why doesn't God come down and show himself so that we could believe?" And to that, I say: He already did and we killed him. He already did and we killed him. And if he came again, we would kill him again.
The cross proved two things forever and for all time. The cross simultaneously proved that man hated God enough to kill him. And it proved that God loved man enough to die for him. That's what the cross proved.
This leads me back to the curious case of Charles Templeton. Lee Strobel interviewed Templeton when he was 83—two years before Templeton died. I want to read you how that interview ended, because it reveals something profound about doubt and love.
Strobel asked Templeton, "How do you assess this Jesus?" It seemed like the next logical question, but Strobel wasn't ready for the response it would evoke.
Templeton's body language softened. It was as if he suddenly felt relaxed and comfortable in talking about an old and dear friend. His voice, which had displayed such a sharp and insistent edge, now took on a melancholy and reflective tone. His guard seemingly down, he spoke in an unhurried pace, almost nostalgically, carefully choosing his words:
He was the greatest human being who ever lived. He was a moral genius. His ethical sense was unique. He was the intrinsically wisest person that I've ever encountered in my life or in my readings. His commitment was total and it led to his own death, much to the detriment of this world. What could one say about him except this was a form of greatness.
Strobel was taken aback. "You sound like you really care about him," he said.
"Well, yes. He is the most important thing in my life," came Templeton's reply. "I know it may sound strange, but I have to say, I adore him. Everything good I know. Everything decent I know. Everything pure I know. I learned from Jesus."
Templeton went on to speak about Jesus's character: "Look at Jesus. He castigated people. He was angry. People don't think of him that way, but they don't read their Bibles. He had a righteous anger. He cared for the oppressed and the exploited. There's no question. He had the highest moral standard, the least duplicity, the greatest compassion of any human being in history."
In my view, he is the most important human being who has ever existed.
And then Templeton uttered words Strobel never expected to hear from him. As his voice began to crack, he said: "And if I may put it this way, I miss him. I miss him."
With that, tears flooded his eyes. He turned his head downward, raising his left hand to shield his face. His shoulders bobbed as he wept.
We don't know if Charles Templeton ever came home. Lee Strobel doesn't know. But I know you can. If you walked away from faith in Jesus years or decades ago, and today while I've been talking a sense of the love of the Father has been on your heart—if you're hearing Him say, "It's time to come home"—today you can come home. Because He loves you.
Maybe you have unanswered questions. That's okay. God doesn't require you to understand everything before you take a step toward Him. He requires your heart.
Last weekend at Easter, we witnessed something unprecedented in our church's history. Before diving into today's teaching, I want to celebrate what God did in just one weekend.
Our in-person attendance reached 43,398 people—we were literally trying to cram everyone into our buildings. I know some of you experienced full parking lots and overflow services; I apologize for that and ask that you come a little earlier next time.
When we include our digital disciples and online family, our total attendance last weekend was 71,883 people worshiping Jesus with us.
But the number that matters most to me isn't the crowd size. We're not in the crowd business; we're in the disciple business. Jesus said to go and make disciples, not just big crowds. The number that moved me is this: 3,174 people indicated a first-time decision to follow Christ. In one weekend, we had a Pentecost moment. In Acts 2, about 3,000 people were saved—and we just matched that.
If you were one of those people who crossed the line of faith, let me be your pastor for a moment. Jesus said that if anybody will follow Him, they must be willing to take up their cross daily. The first step as a disciple is baptism in water—a visible representation of the invisible reality of being cleansed and washed of our sin by the blood of Christ.
Here's something I need to say gently but with an edge: if you won't follow Him into water, I promise you won't follow Him to a cross.
Next weekend is baptism weekend at Lakepointe. We're going to have a big party, and we'll baptize hundreds of people who have crossed the line of faith. If you're one of those people or if you've never been baptized after giving your life to Christ, text the word LIFE to 20411 right now and we'll get you signed up.
I know what you're thinking—it's going to be weird, awkward, embarrassing. But no. Thousands of people are going to be watching and cheering for you. We're on your team. This is going to be awesome.
We're starting a new series this week called "Honest to God." Here's what this series is: I'm looking for fresh ways to preach verse by verse through passages of Scripture because the power is in the Word of God.
This series focuses on encounters people have with Jesus while they're struggling with things everybody experiences but nobody wants to talk about—things like doubt, addiction, condemnation, and shame. One week we'll talk about sexual brokenness. But here's what you'll notice: at the exact moment somebody gets honest to God, Jesus breaks that thing off them, sets them free, and breaks the power of sin.
The moment you bring that thing to Jesus, freedom starts to happen.
Before we dive into today's text, I want to tell you about something I learned from a book called Case for Faith by Lee Strobel. At the beginning, Lee tells the story of two men as a contrast.
Both were saved in 1936. Both professed faith in 1936. By 1945, both were the two most prominent preachers and evangelists in the United States. The man on the left is Charles Templeton; the man on the right is Billy Graham.
That photo was taken in 1945. Both were young, gifted preachers. Both were preaching to huge crowds, leading thousands to Jesus, filling stadiums. Many people predicted that Charles Templeton, not Billy Graham, would have the better career as a preacher. He seemed like the more illustrious of the two.
But shortly after that photo was taken, Charles Templeton began to experience what he called "gnawing doubts" about the truth of his faith in Jesus. His doubts centered on three things:
During this crisis, Charles and Billy were very good friends. Charles tried to pull Billy Graham into his skepticism toward Christianity and actually caused a crisis of faith in Billy's life—something Billy wrote about years later.
Their lives took different paths. Billy Graham went on to become the most prolific evangelist in human history, preaching to an estimated two billion people and leading over two million to Christ. Charles Templeton eventually renounced his faith altogether, resigned from ministry, moved to Canada, and became a commentator and novelist. In 2001, he wrote a sad book entitled Saying Farewell to God.
In his interview with Lee Strobel, now 83 years old, Lee wrote this reflection: "Today, Templeton's faith repeatedly punctured by persistent and obstinate doubts has leaked away." Then he added: "Maybe forever."
Let me put a pin in that. I'm coming back to it.
As a pastor, a Christian, and just someone watching this unfold, the Bible is very clear: everyone everywhere is going to walk through the valley of the shadow of death at some point in their life.
But what people don't talk about quite as often is this: I'm going to make you a promise. At some point in your life as a Christian, you are probably going to walk through the valley of the shadow of doubt.
My job in this sermon is to tell you what to do when you get to that moment.
Here's something extremely important that's happening right under our noses: Point one—in our culture, doubt is on the decline.
When I was in high school in the late 1990s, every year they would trot out charts and graphs. Line graphs showing faith in Jesus—and it was always down. Every year there'd be a new chart going down, down, down, and they'd prognosticate: "If this trend continues, we'll see the collapse of faith in America by such-and-such year."
But something's happening right now. For the first time in 70 years, faith in Jesus is surging in our nation. Surging.
I'm in group texts with pastors all over the country. Everyone, everywhere is seeing record attendance, surging faith, the most baptisms, high momentum.
Let me waterboard you with data and headlines:
USA Today: "Not just Easter, Gen Z is returning to Christianity. Data proves it."
Another study: "Gen Z is half as likely as their parents to identify as atheists."
YUGGOV: "No sex, no booze, we're off to church. Gen Z have found God." The study reveals that young adults, particularly men, are moving toward faith and toward the church. This is significant because traditionally we've had more women than men in church. Young men especially are returning.
International growth: "The Quiet Revival—Gen Z leads rise in church attendance in England and Wales." The article states: "Church decline in England and Wales has not only stopped, the church is growing as Gen Z leads an exciting turnaround."
From France: Record number of adult baptisms shows a 45% increase from 2024 figures. The survey data, gathered over 20 years, shows the highest numbers ever recorded. Young adults now constitute the largest segment of converts.
Wall Street Journal: "Sales of Bibles are booming." Publishers attribute a 22% year-over-year jump in Bible sales to rising anxiety and a generation's search for hope.
Barna Research: "Belief in Jesus reaches a decade high level."
Team Jesus is winning, y'all. I read the end of the book, and we win. You're on a winning team.
To Gen Z: where are you at? Look around. Way to go. I'm fired up about this because for the last 10 years, everybody's been making fun of your generation. "Oh, all these lazy, TikTok, anxiety-ridden people. You're good for nothing."
But here's what my Bible says. Let me speak this over you: "You shall be called the repairers of the breach and the restorers of the streets to dwell in." You're going to do things our generation didn't. God's using you right now, and we're behind you.
To everyone: people have been shouting at me for 20 years, "Stand on the right side of history." Here's how you stand on the right side of history: be on the same side as the one who died to redeem history and is going to end history by returning to judge the living and the dead.
Now, a hard emotional gear shift. We went way up, and now we're coming back down. Point two—doubt is inevitable.
Look at this passage from John 20. This is post-resurrection. It says: "Now, Thomas, one of the 12, called Didymus."
Let me explain something. Didymus was a Greek word meaning "twin." Thomas was almost certainly an identical twin. Here's what bothers me: Thomas gets the short end of the stick on nicknames. What's his nickname? We all know it. We call him "Doubting Thomas."
This dude had one moment of doubt in his entire life, and we've defined him by it forever. Don't define people by their worst moments. Peter cursed Jesus the night he was betrayed—do we call him "Profanity Peter"? No.
Here's what church history tells us: After Thomas came back to vibrant faith in Jesus, he walked from Jerusalem to India. He was the first person to take the gospel to India. Today, there's still a Christian community named after Thomas—they're the spiritual great-great-great-grandchildren of Thomas, planting churches and carrying on his legacy.
Church history tells us he was martyred for his faith. He converted the wife of a king and refused to bow down to a pagan god.
How about we call him "Courageous Thomas"? How about we call him "Bold Thomas"? How about we call him "Faithful Thomas"?
This man either gets "Doubting Thomas" or "T. Diddy." Poor guy can't win.
Thomas had witnessed everything—he heard the sermons, saw the miracles, and didn't just watch them; he participated in them. He literally walked around with bread in his hands when Jesus fed the 5,000. He heard eyewitnesses tell him, "We just saw Jesus. He's alive." And he still doubted.
But here's what's important to understand: doubt is inevitable. We don't live in a perfect world where everything makes sense. We live in a fallen, sinful, broken world where almost nothing makes sense. This is why the New Testament is remarkably honest about the doubts of Jesus's followers.
Consider John the Baptist. He was filled with the Holy Spirit from birth—the only person in the entire Bible of whom this is true. He had a prophetic vision when he first saw Jesus: "Behold, the Lamb of God that takes away the sins of the world." He knew who Jesus was. Yet when John was imprisoned, awaiting his execution, he sent word asking, "Are you the one who is to come, or should we be looking for another?" He was doubting the very message he had preached his entire life.
Or consider Matthew 28, right after the resurrection. The disciples saw the resurrected Jesus, touched him, witnessed everything. Then Jesus ascended into heaven before their eyes. Yet the text says: "When they saw him, they worshiped him. But some doubted." They literally just watched him levitate into the clouds, and some were still like, "Yeah, I'm not sure. I need a little more."
I want to point something out: both Thomas and John the Baptist experienced their acute moments of doubt during extreme emotional compression. Thomas had just witnessed the Lord's crucifixion—massive trauma. John was sitting in prison waiting to be executed.
Here's what I've observed as a pastor: Human nature, you do not see things as they are. You see things as you are. When you're at the grocery store hungry, sushi-flavored Oreos start looking good. You're not seeing things as they are.
I've seen people in the worst emotional situations of their lives—the most depressed, most traumatized, most relationally wounded—make a decision to walk away from faith. And here's the problem: they're seeing things the least clearly and have the most distorted vision.
So here's my warning: Don't make a permanent decision based on a temporary emotion. Don't doubt in the dark what you saw clearly in the light.
This is so important. If you miss this, Satan's going to lock you up with it.
When Jesus appeared to Thomas eight days later, He didn't answer all of Thomas's questions. He didn't explain why He had to die. He didn't explain why it felt like He had abandoned them. Instead, Jesus said: "Thomas, put your finger here. See my hands. Put out your hand. Place it in my side. Don't disbelieve. Believe."
And Thomas went from doubting to shouting: "My Lord and my God!"
Now, here's what I want you to see. The Greek word translated "believe" or "faith" is pisteuō. And this word means to trust. It does not mean to understand. In fact, the Bible talks about "a peace that surpasses all understanding." What God means is: in order for you to have peace, you have to give up your right to understand.
Think about it this way: If God is the size of the Pacific Ocean and your mind is the size of a Capri Sun, there are some things you should expect not to fit. There's going to be some things that don't fit.
But here's what Thomas did—and what the disciples all eventually did: They carried their questions and doubts, and they started following Jesus anyway. They were like, "Man, there's some stuff over here that doesn't make sense, but that dude was raised from the dead. I'm going to follow the guy that walked out of the grave. Someday He's going to answer all this stuff. Until then, I'm following Him with these doubts, but I'm following Him."
Let me give you the best analogy I can. About eight years ago, I went skydiving for the first time. You go 12,000 feet in the air, and that moment is awesome. You're literally flying. But then comes the jump.
In that moment, I'm 90% sure I didn't say a cuss word, but I'm 100% sure I thought one.
Now, here's my question: In that moment, did I have fears? Did I have questions? Was I doubting my decision? Yes. Unequivocally, yes.
But I still jumped.
So here's the question: Did I have faith? Yes.
This is the key: Faith is not the absence of questions. Faith is the presence of trust in the midst of your fears, doubts, and questions.
If you've got doubts, you're going to make a great disciple, because the disciples had a lot of doubts. But watch what the disciples did with their doubts—they carried them and followed Jesus anyway.
Here's the theology: Satan oversees a dominion of darkness. But the Bible says that if we walk in the light as Jesus is in the light, the blood of Jesus covers us and cleanses us from all of our sins.
Satan does darkness. Jesus is in the light.
Don't try to fight the devil in the dark. If you fight the devil in the dark, you're always going to lose because the darkness is his dominion. Here's what Satan wants you to do with sin, doubts, questions, and shame: he wants to lock you up. Keep it in the dark all by yourself. Don't process it with any other Christians. Keep it private, hidden, secret. And when he gets you isolated in the darkness, he's going to ground and pound you with condemnation, shame, and a feeling of disqualification. You're probably not even saved. None of this stuff is true.
But Jesus is not in the darkness. He's in the light.
So here's what you do with your doubts: You find people of God who have faith, who have an intimacy with Jesus, who love you, who have conviction and courage and a backbone. And then you drag whatever you're struggling with—your doubts, your questions, your sins, your addictions, your failures, your shame—you drag it all out into the light with those other believers.
Once you drag it out of the darkness into the light, that's where Jesus is. And you let Him reign victorious over that thing. Because that's what Jesus does when you bring it to Him.
Jesus was not angry with Thomas's doubt. Look at the gentle mercy of Jesus: "Thomas, put your finger here. See my hands. Put out your hand. Put it on my side."
Here's the last point: Jesus meets your doubts with a demonstration.
Now, I know what some of you are thinking: "Yeah, but He did that for Thomas. He's not doing that for me. I'm not sticking my fingers in skin holes." Fair point.
But I want to say something gently: Yes, He has given you a demonstration.
Listen to what Romans 1 says:
For what can be known about God is plain to them. God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely his eternal power and his divine nature, have been clearly perceived ever since the creation of the world.
God is saying: I have made it clear to everyone. In creation itself, in the way that the world has been created, there is evidence of a creator. I have made it plain. It is very clear.
Sociologists and archaeologists have pointed out that they have never discovered a civilization, society, or tribe that when discovered did not have some belief in God, the supernatural, or the divine. Never. Why? Because God has made it clear to us in the things that have been created. Creation implies a creator.
And here's what Romans 1 concludes: "So they are without excuse." No one will stand before Jesus in final judgment and say, "You didn't give me enough evidence." God says, "Yes, I did. Everything around you declares My glory."
If you're someone who says, "I struggle to believe in God," listen to this:
Scientist Sir Roger Penrose calculated the likelihood of the universe having this precise of a design—the fine-tuning of all the factors of physics that are exactly as they need to be for life to exist. His calculation? 10 billion to the 123rd power. That's a 1 followed by 123 zeros. A number human minds cannot comprehend.
Atheist scientist Stephen Hawking said in A Brief History of Time that at the moment of the Big Bang, if the expansion rate of the universe was different by even one 100,000th millionth of 1%, the universe would have collapsed back on itself. That precise.
The genetic odds of you existing as a human? 400 trillion to one. You are not an accident.
In 1944, scientists discovered that underneath our genetic existence is a complex language called DNA. Underneath who you are is a language. Who wrote the language? If one person's DNA was unraveled and stretched end to end, it would stretch to Pluto and back. One person.
You say it takes too much faith to believe in a creator. But let me ask you: Have you ever seen non-intellect produce intellect? Have you ever seen non-life produce life? Have you ever seen a massive explosion produce design and order?
Every explosion I have ever seen led to destruction and chaos—not design and order.
You say you struggle to trust the Bible because they're ancient texts. But consider this: Homer, Plato, Aristotle, and Caesar combined have a few hundred surviving manuscripts, and the earliest ones are more than 500 years after their original writing. Yet the New Testament is the most attested document in human history, with more than 6,000 surviving manuscripts dating to within years or decades of its writing.
So why do you trust that Caesar, Homer, and Plato existed when there are exponentially fewer things written about them than about Jesus?
You say you struggle to believe in things like the virgin birth of Christ. But you believe in the virgin birth of the universe—that everything came from nothing, with no one, no problem.
There are over 2,000 fulfilled prophecies from the Bible confirmed in the Old Testament and New Testament. The evidence is there.
God has given you a demonstration. You have to listen to what He's already shown you.
You look at the world and ask, "Why is there so much suffering? People are starving, oppressed, hungry, and broken. Where is God?" But I want to turn that question around. God is looking at us and asking, "Where are you? I made you in my image. I set my love upon you. I gave you my resources. Where are you? Feeding the hungry, healing the broken, helping the hurting. Where are you?"
You say, "Why doesn't God come down and show himself so that we could believe?" And to that, I say: He already did and we killed him. He already did and we killed him. And if he came again, we would kill him again.
The cross proved two things forever and for all time. The cross simultaneously proved that man hated God enough to kill him. And it proved that God loved man enough to die for him. That's what the cross proved.
This leads me back to the curious case of Charles Templeton. Lee Strobel interviewed Templeton when he was 83—two years before Templeton died. I want to read you how that interview ended, because it reveals something profound about doubt and love.
Strobel asked Templeton, "How do you assess this Jesus?" It seemed like the next logical question, but Strobel wasn't ready for the response it would evoke.
Templeton's body language softened. It was as if he suddenly felt relaxed and comfortable in talking about an old and dear friend. His voice, which had displayed such a sharp and insistent edge, now took on a melancholy and reflective tone. His guard seemingly down, he spoke in an unhurried pace, almost nostalgically, carefully choosing his words:
He was the greatest human being who ever lived. He was a moral genius. His ethical sense was unique. He was the intrinsically wisest person that I've ever encountered in my life or in my readings. His commitment was total and it led to his own death, much to the detriment of this world. What could one say about him except this was a form of greatness.
Strobel was taken aback. "You sound like you really care about him," he said.
"Well, yes. He is the most important thing in my life," came Templeton's reply. "I know it may sound strange, but I have to say, I adore him. Everything good I know. Everything decent I know. Everything pure I know. I learned from Jesus."
Templeton went on to speak about Jesus's character: "Look at Jesus. He castigated people. He was angry. People don't think of him that way, but they don't read their Bibles. He had a righteous anger. He cared for the oppressed and the exploited. There's no question. He had the highest moral standard, the least duplicity, the greatest compassion of any human being in history."
In my view, he is the most important human being who has ever existed.
And then Templeton uttered words Strobel never expected to hear from him. As his voice began to crack, he said: "And if I may put it this way, I miss him. I miss him."
With that, tears flooded his eyes. He turned his head downward, raising his left hand to shield his face. His shoulders bobbed as he wept.
We don't know if Charles Templeton ever came home. Lee Strobel doesn't know. But I know you can. If you walked away from faith in Jesus years or decades ago, and today while I've been talking a sense of the love of the Father has been on your heart—if you're hearing Him say, "It's time to come home"—today you can come home. Because He loves you.
Maybe you have unanswered questions. That's okay. God doesn't require you to understand everything before you take a step toward Him. He requires your heart.
