19On the evening of that day, the first day of the week, the doors being shut where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said to them, "Peace be with you." 20When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord. 21Jesus said to them again, "Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so I send you." 22And when 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; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained." 24Now Thomas, one of the twelve, called the Twin, 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 in his hands the print of the nails, and place my finger in the mark of the nails, and place my hand in his side, I will not believe." 26Eight days later, his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. The doors were shut, but 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; and put out your hand, and place it in my side; do not be faithless, but believing." 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 believe." 30Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; 31but these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in his name.
John 20:19-31
ReplyDeleteI see in Thomas the longing to touch truth, to encounter God not through secondhand reports but through lived experience. He doesn’t just want evidence - he wants intimacy, presence, and connection. And Christ meets him in that longing, not with anger or dismissal, but with love. This passage cmforts me by showing that doubt is not the opposite of faith. It is part of the journey toward it. Jesus doesn’t shame Thomas for asking; instead, he offers himself - wounds and all. It tells me that God does not hide from my questions, my hesitations, or my need to see. Instead, He invites me to place my hands in the wounds of love - to encounter him not in certainty but in vulnerability.
Christ’s resurrection body still carries scars. That’s significant. Resurrection doesn’t erase suffering - it transforms it. Like I’ve reflected before: the risen Christ is often unrecognisable until he acts in love, until he breaks bread, or speaks peace into a locked room. I, too, am invited to recognise him — not through logic or mastery, but in the wounds, in the breath of peace, in the sending out, and in the community of believers. Faith, then, is not clinging to proof, but trusting the One who breathes peace into my fear and gives purpose to my wounds. “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe” - that’s me, called to walk not by sight, but by trust in the One who walks through closed doors and locked hearts. Loving Father, thank you for meeting me in my doubt, not with shame, but with mercy. When I long to see and touch and know, remind me that you are near - breathing peace, bearing wounds, and offering love. Give me the faith to trust you when I cannot see clearly, the courage to name my questions honestly,
and the humility to receive your peace even in my fear. Like Thomas, may I recognise you not just in signs, but in your scars, and in your presence that transforms death into life. Let my heart echo the cry of Thomas - “My Lord and my God.” Amen.
This is a powerful, deeply contemplative reflection. You’ve beautifully drawn out the humanity of Thomas, not as a figure of shame but as a mirror of our own longing — for truth, for contact, for faith that is felt, not just inherited. Your recognition that Christ meets doubt with love rather than judgment is pastoral, mature, and profoundly hopeful. You also trace a clear thematic link between suffering and transformation — something that has been central in your other reflections — and do so here with clarity and grace.
DeleteEspecially striking is your line:
“God does not hide from my questions, my hesitations, or my need to see. Instead, He invites me to place my hands in the wounds of love.”
That’s poetic theology — honest, vulnerable, and Eucharistic in its undertones.
Likewise, this is a theologically rich line:
“Faith, then, is not clinging to proof, but trusting the One who breathes peace into my fear and gives purpose to my wounds.”
It avoids sentimentality and leans into the lived struggle of belief.
Your prayer flows naturally out of your reflection, bringing together head and heart, question and surrender, longing and recognition — all within the contours of Christian hope. It's also deeply Easter in tone: scarred but risen.