Doubting Thomas: the disciple we’re all familiar with, having said he would not believe Christ had risen unless he himself could see and touch the nail marks in His hands and His wounded side (John 20).
The Chosen, in a clever and creative way, depicts Thomas as someone whose personality structure is characterized by the desire for absolute certainty, exhibiting traits of Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder. (Not to be confused with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, which includes the experience of actual obsessive thoughts and compulsive behaviors. Although it can be very confusing, because the two commonly co-occur, and there is significant overlap. For now, we’re looking at relational patterns, more characterological experiences.)
The Cost of Certainty
In the show, Thomas does not experience mere moments of doubt, as everyone does, but more so his life is built around eliminating the unknown and uncertainty. His sense of what keeps him safe and secure is found in performing well: taking on as much responsibility as he can, overthinking, analyzing, being productive and efficient. He does everything he can to prevent the pain and disconnection that may occur as a result of mistakes and failure. Somewhere along the line, he must have learned in relationship that being loved, being secure, could come from trying to be perfect.
The show introduced Thomas, employed by the vintner, who had done all of the responsible things—calculated and measured and planned—to adequately supply the wedding party with wine at Cana. In his anxiety over the quandary of running out of wine, he became agitated with Jesus for His mysterious instructions. Of course, it was completely unclear how filling the jars with water would address the concern of running out of wine.
It was not long after that the character of Thomas left everything behind to follow Jesus. Yet, witnessing the miracle at the wedding feast of Cana was not the last time that Thomas wrestled with doubt, that he grasped for ways to control and secure his own safety. Although this particular scene has yet to be released, we know what the Scripture says—that Jesus did permit Thomas to see and touch His wounds. The Lord met Thomas where he was at, and repeatedly moved him from a place of fearful control to trust in His perfectly loving care.
When Safety Depends on Perfection
It can be particularly challenging for individuals who struggle with traits of OCPD to trust the process of change, to accept that being human means that we are in a process of becoming. Even if we are acutely aware of our own OCPD tendencies, intellectually understanding that clinging to control is not ever going to be the path to peace, we can find it frightening and frustrating that we cannot just perfectly trust through our efforts and focus and fight.
Relational patterns are developed over time, after repeated wounding experiences. It may not have been dramatic or overt; it could have been subtle but repetitive, that someone important in our lives caused us to feel that if we fell short, then there would be disconnection and loss. Adaptive as we are, we find ways to avoid and pre-empt the pain of separation, and achieve the connection for which we are made.
Both understandably and devastatingly, these wounds get projected onto God, and we can sadly come to believe that our connection with Him actually can be achieved. He knows this and understands this far better than we can, and He invites us into repeated experiences of growing in trusting Him. We can expect that we will need repetition as we grow in tolerance of the unknown. We, too, like Thomas, may need more than one miraculous experience to live a life of childlike trust.
From Clarity to Trust
It was mercifully, and annoyingly, during one of the most uncertain seasons of my twenties that the Lord introduced to me a story of Mother Teresa. I was already craving clarity when plans came undone in ways I never could have guessed. For months, I was reminded of how Mother Teresa refused to pray that a famous ethicist would have his sought-after clarity. Surprised, he pushed back that she seemed to have clarity. Mother laughed and said, “I have never had clarity, what I have always had is trust; so I will pray that you will trust God.”
I wrestled with what it even means to trust God, and how one grows in trust. Years later, I found my favorite line in the Litany of Trust by the Sisters of Life:
“That You will teach me to trust You,
Jesus, I trust in You.”
Just as we learned over and over again in relationship that we would have to work for our sense of safety and belonging, so, too, will we need to learn over and over again that we can relinquish this control and trust in the reality of being beloved children of God. We will inevitably have opportunities day in and day out to try something new, to receive rather than earn that which is already ours.
Learning to Let Go
But, how? How do we reach out and hold the wounded hand of Christ? Practically speaking, it will involve taking risks, stepping out into the unknown, and seeing firsthand the ways in which we can not only survive, but enjoy, letting go of control. It may look like setting aside that extra read-through of the report, deviating from the schedule, not scrupulously crunching the numbers, going on vacation, and having fun. (If you struggle with OCPD tendencies, you may be surprised to find you are not alone in having a hard time going on vacation and having fun.)
It is critical to ask for help, both from the Lord Himself and from others. We need to let others accompany us, and participate in His love. It will be uncomfortable, especially at first, but it will be a beautiful act of trust in our loving Father, who longs to give us rest.