Two major legal investigations made the news just before Easter: one which we’d all known about for months, the indictment of Donald Trump; and one which caught us totally “on the hop”: the arrest of Peter Murrell, the Scottish National Party’s chief executive. Murrell was of course released the same day without any charge being made against him (although investigations continue); Trump will definitely come to court. He definitely won’t come quietly!

The task of every court is basically simple: does it believe that the person before it is guilty or not guilty of the allegations that have been made about them? By listening to witnesses, reading documents and hearing expert reports and character references, it has to decide whether the case against the accused person stands up or not. If it does, they are convicted; if it doesn’t, they are exonerated (although Scotland still, I believe, has that middle way, unknown in the rest of Britain, of “not proven”, which leaves a question mark hanging in the air). A US Senator – a Democrat, so no friend of Mr Trump – explains the former President’s position very clearly: “He will be judged fairly and impartially, just like any other criminal defendant.  The burden of proof is squarely on the prosecution. As in all cases, impartial judges and jurors will have to put aside their personal views and uphold the law. Facts and evidence will determine the outcome”.

That sounds easy, but – as those of you who have done jury service (I haven’t) will know – it may be very difficult to decide whether a person is guilty or not, whether the evidence being presented in court is credible or a pack of lies. It is easy to forget the “golden thread” in British justice which says that a person enters court innocent of wrong-doing and that it’s the prosecution’s job to convince the court that they are not. Those lawyers need to prove their case – which can’t always be easy. So how certain of the evidence does the jury have to be for a person to be convicted?

What we might not realise is that the level of proof needed to convict in criminal cases is much higher than it is in civil ones. Juries in criminal courts were for centuries told that they must be convinced of a person’s guilt “beyond reasonable doubt”; however this phrase has been confusing so judges now tell them that they must be “satisfied that they are sure” of their position. As a Professor of Law explains: “It’s not enough for jurors to think that the accused is probably or very probably guilty; although they don’t have to be absolutely 100% certain. However if they have a real doubt, rather than one based on an extremely remote possibility, they should acquit”.

That’s for criminal law; the standard of proof required in civil cases is much lower and is known as “a balance of probabilities”; in other words, it’s necessary to prove that something is more likely to have occurred than not. So, in a case, two competing versions of events may be presented. If the court feels that they are equally probable, then they are perfectly balanced – 50/50 if you like. But as soon as one version is thought to be more likely, then the scales – the balance – tip in its favour. The court must, of course, take into account the kind of event being described: the more improbable it seems to be, the stronger must be the evidence for it. So, for instance, saying that I drove into a wall because I was swerving to avoid a child stepping into the road would be less contentious than me saying that I was distracted by an elephant that was walking along the pavement. I’d need a lot more evidence – such as CCTV footage or flyers advertising the circus that had just come to town – to prove my point.

That’s been a lengthy preamble but you have probably guessed where I’m going! For the questions I want us to think about today are, “What level of proof do we need if we’re to have a religious faith?” and, more specifically, “What level of proof did Thomas require in order to believe in Jesus’ resurrection? Was he setting the bar too high?” After all and as we know so well, he wasn’t prepared to accept the other disciples’ accounts of meeting the risen Jesus; he not only had to see Jesus for himself but physically touch his wounds. And Jesus rewarded him with some very equivocal words of praise: “You are blessed because you have seen and believed. But how much more blessed are people who will believe without having seen, who will have to take my risen life on trust”. Future people couldn’t demand the same level of proof.

I’ll come back to that last thought in a minute; for now I want to stick with Thomas. Why was he – one of Jesus’ hand-picked disciples who’d heard his master say, more than once, that he would return to life – so reluctant to believe? Why, when the others told him about their experience of Jesus at the tomb and indoors, did he say, “You’re nuts, guys. Calm down and face facts. You must be mistaken – sincere, but mistaken. For dead is dead and there’s no arguing with that”? It’s because Thomas was a realist. He knew that when the Romans killed someone by whipping and crucifixion and shoving a spear into them, they stayed dead. He may not have seen Jesus die, but he might well have witnessed other, similar, deaths.

Now Thomas wasn’t a bad man. In fact he was honest and clear-headed, with his feet firmed parked on the solid ground of reality.  He’d seen Jesus calm the sea, give sight to the blind, heal the lame and cast out demons. He’d seen Jesus raise both Jairus’ daughter and Lazarus. And, as I’ve said, he had heard Jesus repeatedly predict both his death and resurrection. But when Thomas’ own friends told him that Jesus’ predictions had come true, he was unable to believe them. Despite all his first-hand knowledge of Jesus, he couldn’t believe that crucifixion might not mean the final end of life.

So it’s quite wrong for us to call Thomas “doubting”, for there was no doubt in his mind about Jesus’ resurrection: it was something he categorically denied. The only thing that could change his mind was hard, empirical evidence: to go back to those legal terms, a “balance of probabilities” was not enough for him, he needed to be convinced “beyond all reasonable doubt”. And when Thomas was sure – well, the change was instantaneous as he cried, perhaps with embarrassment and remorse at his earlier failure to believe, “My Lord and my God”.

So what about people today? We can’t meet Jesus and physically touch him, so what level of proof do we require to be convinced of his resurrection? Indeed, knowing that the Bible is a book which has been written, edited, copied and translated by a multitude of people over many centuries, what level of proof do we require if we’re to be convinced that Jesus even lived in the first place? The stories of what he said and did are like many other ancient myths – but we are asked to believe that they aren’t just myths but real events which actually took place at specific places and times. Those stories of miracle and resurrection are indeed extraordinary, which means that they require extraordinary evidence – evidence which, if we are totally honest with ourselves, we do not and cannot have.

That’s why an atheist can write, “Until evidence shows the Bible to be true, atheists will rightfully remain today’s doubting Thomases. Until and unless the evidence can be provided, we will continue to warn humanity of the folly of belief in God, pointing the way to a better future free of doubt, hatred and fear”. However we aren’t atheists but believers (although, I’m sure, believers whose faith is a bit wobbly at times!) and we emphatically disagree with those words. For we don’t actually live on a day-to-day basis with solid proof and hard evidence of everything we see and hear – in fact philosophers would say that we can’t be sure of anything, that we cannot know if our senses are in fact deceiving us, that our entire life might be a delusion. And, while we might not go as far as that, we still believe in many things that cannot be rationally proved. For instance, we’d all say that it’s wrong to inflict pain on people for no reason – but how can we prove that that is true? Equally, we all take gravity for granted (life would be tricky without it!), yet none of asks for evidence of how it works.

Ultimately, of course, we are in the realm of faith when it comes to belief in Jesus’ resurrection. That’s not a blind faith, like that of the Lewis Carroll’s White Queen who, after drawing a long breath and shutting her eyes, was able to believe six impossible things before breakfast – mind you, she said she’d had a lot of practice! No; I believe (although I can’t go into them) that there are good reasons for believing not just in God but in Jesus who died and rose from death.

So, although we might lack the total confidence shown by the writer to the Hebrews who wrote: “Having faith is being sure of the things we hope for, being certain of the things we cannot see”, and although we can’t prove the Easter story true “beyond reasonable doubt”, I do think that, in the balance of probabilities, it is true: not 100% (for faith always involves an element of doubt), nor 51% (because I think that the evidence is better than that), but somewhere in-between. Your level of faith may be at the top end of that range, it may be near the bottom, it may (depending on circumstances) slide up and down. But I hope it is sufficient for you to say, with Thomas, “My Lord and my God”, and to follow Jesus throughout your life.