Worship - 27 April 2025

Summary of this week's theme

The film, Conclave, based on Robert Harris’s novel, has suddenly become intriguing, following the recent death of Pope Francis; its themes have become deeply relevant. Viewership of the film has tripled - people are curious about what really goes on behind the Vatican’s closed doors. But let’s remember: it’s a work of fiction.

Still, the story holds profound truths. In one striking moment, the fictional cardinal Thomas Lawrence says, ‘There is one sin I have come to fear above all else: certainty.’ He speaks of how faith is often a messy path, marked by both belief and doubt, and how the church has sometimes pushed away those with questions. But doubt, far from being the enemy of faith, may in fact be its companion. Certainty, he warns, is the true enemy - of tolerance, of growth, of mystery.

That fictional Cardinal Thomas reminded me of two other Thomases. One, a friend and former colleague from Kerala, South India, whose family traces its Christian heritage to the Apostle Thomas - yes, the so-called Doubting Thomas. And that’s the second: the biblical Thomas, who, unfairly labelled for one moment of hesitation, is the one who ultimately declares, ‘My Lord and my God!’ - the first to do so in John’s Gospel.

Thomas’s journey of faith is not a fall from grace but a story of courage, grief, searching, and return. Perhaps he wasn’t with the others that night because he had the courage to step out while the rest hid. And when he returned, full of questions, Jesus didn’t shame him. He met him - scars and all.

And that’s where much of this story takes place: around the table. The table where Jesus washed feet, shared bread, and returned after resurrection. The Eucharist is more than ritual; it’s a symbol of Christ’s return to community, a place of forgiveness and peace. What were his first words, full of reconciliation and forgiveness? ‘Peace be with you.’

So, as the world peers into a fictional conclave hoping for certainty, we gather around a real table that invites mystery, grace, and honest doubt. Faith doesn’t require the absence of questions. It asks us to walk with them - open-hearted, hopeful, and ever returning to the table.