Thomas's Point of View: John 20:19-31 - Second Sunday of Easter

¹⁹When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” ²⁰After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. ²¹Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” ²²When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. ²³If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”
 ²⁴But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. ²⁵So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”
 ²⁶A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” ²⁷Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” ²⁸Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” ²⁹Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
 ³⁰Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. ³¹But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name. (NRSV)

Béla Iványi-Grünwald, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

All my life, I’ve been called “Doubting Thomas.” My given name is Judas—and I’m the youngest of identical twins. Thomas is my nickname. It means “the twin” in Aramaic. In other words, I’m the “doubting twin.” 

When people asked, “how can you tell them apart,” my mother distinguished us in ways that made my brother the shining star. He was the outgoing one, I was the shy one; he was the leader, and I was the follower; he was the go-getter, and I played it safe. Mother could not hide which of us she favored. But my father and I had an unbreakable bond.

We are fishers by trade—and I learned to copy everything my father did: how to cast the nets, when to mend them, even how to read the sky ahead of nasty weather. 

Some of the best years of my life were spent on that fishing boat with our father, my twin, and our two younger brothers. 

Everything changed when he died, though. My twin made it clear to the rest of us that it was his boat now. He did not inherit our father’s cautious nature, as I had. He was a risk-taker. I was all about safety. He was all about the catch. One time, I convinced him that we needed to wait to set out because I sensed a storm was brewing. But that storm never came, and they never trusted instincts again. In fact, whenever I had concerns and my twin didn’t agree with me, he called me “Doubting Thomas.” We may have caught more fish than we did when father was alive, but we had a lot more problems too. Some days, it was a miracle we made it safely home.

But everything in my life changed the day Jesus of Nazareth began ministering to the fishermen on our shores. It was as if there was this energy that drew me toward him. I don’t really remember what he said, all I remember was the love I saw in his eyes as he spoke. I had never felt this close to God. When Jesus said, “Thomas, follow me,” I was born again. 

Jesus did not, however, call my brothers. I’ll never forget the shock on their faces when I told them I was going with Jesus. They probably thought I’d lost my mind. But I had found my purpose.

All my grief and dejection disappeared as I joined with Jesus in caring for people who were even more lost and afflicted than I had ever been. And hearing him speak of the Kingdom of God, where the meek inherit the earth and the real heroes are those who show mercy—that made sense to me. 

I especially appreciated the fact that Jesus was never annoyed when I questioned things I didn’t understand. I was never “Doubting Thomas” to him. He appreciated my inquisitive nature. Jesus loved me for who I was.

It didn’t bother me when Jesus clashed the religious leaders. I was always intimidated by them as a child. Even when Jesus was driven out of towns and synagogues, I knew Jesus was on God’s side, and they were not. When Jesus spoke about being killed by the scribes and chief priests, I thought he was being overly cautious—just like me. 

But after he raised Lazarus from the dead and we entered Jerusalem for the Passover, I sensed that a storm was brewing. Judas Iscariot became even more unpleasant and withdrawn. In hindsight, everything happened exactly as Jesus said it would. But it all happened so quickly. When we saw the temple guards put Jesus in chains, we panicked. My mind simply couldn’t comprehend how someone could chain up the same person who cast out demons and raised the dead. 

And then, when I saw him crucified, the fires of hell burned within me. It was all the grief, the confusion, the shame, the hatred for the religious leaders; the fear that they were going to hunt me down and kill me too..

The other ten disciples eventually regrouped at the house where we shared the last supper, but I didn’t go. I decided to go home, just like the prodigal son in Jesus’s parable. Except there was no father waiting to welcome me; and I doubt my brothers would throw a party. 

Before I left Jerusalem, the other disciples caught up to me and told me that Jesus was risen. But my mind was made up. I was done. So, I told them that unless I could see Jesus for myself, I will not believe. Peter, James, and John reminded me so much of my older brother, and I refused to sail with them into another storm. 

As I made my way back to Galilee, I broke down. I wept and I wailed like a child. I’d lost the Messiah I loved, and going back to the life I knew before felt like dying. I prayed to God, “let it be true. Let it be that Jesus is truly your Son and that he’s risen from the dead.” I prayed these words as I made my way back to Jerusalem. I needed to see the risen Jesus, or else I was as good as dead. I went back to that house, and there, the eleven of us waited and prayed… It was one week after I first heard the news that Jesus appeared—even though our doors were locked. His first words to use were “peace be with you,” which were so perfect, because we were not at peace. Then Jesus showed me his scarred hands and side. He looked at me and loved me more than he ever had before. 

Jesus was risen from the dead. But I was reborn. God answered my prayers. Jesus truly is the Lord and my God. 

I wish I could tell you that I never again experienced any doubts. That would be a lie. There were plenty of times I had doubts:  doubts about myself; doubts about Jesus; doubts about our mission. What I learned was not to allow the doubts to make me turn around and go away from the direction God had been leading me. Like I did that day, I learned that when I have doubts, I will pray until I see the glory of God. And I will open myself up to receive the prayers, the testimony, and the support of others—because we’re all in this together, anyway. We’re the Church. We are Body of Christ. 

Don’t let your doubts pull you away from Jesus. Don’t let them pull you into isolation. Let your doubts be a sign for you of how much you need Jesus. Let those doubts become your prayers. Even though you will not see him in the flesh as I did, you will see his glory. The risen Jesus wants to be known! 

Don’t underestimate the amount of good you can do, because the same love that raised him from the dead is alive within you and alive in your church. Trust Jesus, and you, too, will join the chorus in singing, “My Lord and my God!”