Stop Doubting

John 20:24-29 (NIV)

24 Now Thomas (also known as Didymus), one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came.

25 So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!”

But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

26 A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!”

27 Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”

28 Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”

29 Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

He Is Risen

Today is Easter Sunday.

The day everything changed. The day the tomb was found empty and the stone was rolled away and the angels sat where the body of Jesus had been and said — He is not here. He has risen.

Good Friday was the darkness. Easter Sunday is the morning that follows it.

And in the middle of that first Easter week, while the disciples were still processing what had happened, Thomas was not in the room when Jesus appeared. He missed it. He heard about it secondhand. And he did the most human thing possible.

He doubted.

Thomas Was Not There

We do not know why Thomas was not with the others when Jesus appeared.

Maybe he was too grief stricken to be around people. Maybe he needed to be alone. Maybe he was out trying to make sense of the last three days on his own terms. Whatever the reason — he was not in the room.

And because he was not in the room, he missed the moment everyone else experienced.

There is something quietly relatable about Thomas that gets missed when we reduce him to just the doubting one. He was a man who had given everything to follow Jesus. Who had watched Him die. Who had spent three days in the kind of grief that does not have words. And when his friends came to him with the most extraordinary news in human history — we have seen the Lord — something in him could not make the leap.

Not because he was a bad person. Not because his faith was weak by nature. But because grief has a way of making hope feel dangerous. When you have lost something that precious, letting yourself believe again feels like opening yourself up to be destroyed a second time.

Sometimes doubt is not the opposite of faith. Sometimes it is just what faith looks like when it has been through something devastating.

Unless I See

Thomas did not say I will never believe.

He said — unless I see. Unless I can touch. Unless there is something real and tangible that I can put my hands on, I cannot get there.

That is an honest statement. More honest than pretending to believe something you do not actually believe in the moment. Thomas could have nodded along with the others and quietly kept his doubts to himself. He did not. He said exactly where he was.

There is something God can work with in that kind of honesty.

The person who pretends to believe while doubting on the inside closes themselves off from the very encounter that could change everything. Thomas stayed in that honest uncertain place — I need to see, I need to touch — and that openness is exactly what Jesus walked back into the room to meet.

God is not put off by our honest doubt. He is put off by the pretending.

Though the Doors Were Locked

A week later the disciples were together again. This time Thomas was with them.

And though the doors were locked — Jesus came and stood among them.

Locked doors do not stop the risen Jesus. Walls do not contain Him. The barriers we put up — physical, emotional, spiritual — are not too much for Him to walk through when He wants to reach someone.

He came back specifically for Thomas.

He did not send a message. He did not ask the other disciples to keep working on him. He showed up in person, in the room, and He went straight to the one who had said he needed to see and touch.

Put your finger here. See my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side.

Jesus offered Thomas exactly what Thomas had asked for. He did not lecture him about doubt. He did not make him feel small for not believing. He just — showed up. Met him exactly where he was. And gave him what he needed to get there.

That is the risen Jesus. Still showing up for the one who is not quite there yet. Still walking through locked doors to reach the person sitting in honest uncertain doubt. Still meeting us exactly where we are rather than where we think we should be.

My Lord and My God

When Thomas saw Jesus the response was immediate and total.

He did not say — oh good, there you are. He did not say — I knew it all along. He said the most complete confession of faith in the entire gospel of John.

My Lord and my God.

Not just Lord. Not just a good teacher or a miracle worker or a prophet. Lord and God. The full weight of who Jesus actually is — landing on Thomas in one moment and coming straight out of his mouth before he could even think about it.

This is what an encounter with the risen Jesus does. It does not leave you with slightly adjusted opinions. It does not move you a few degrees in a warmer direction. It breaks you open and puts you back together with something completely different at the centre.

Thomas went from I will not believe to My Lord and my God in one encounter.

That is Easter. That is what the resurrection does when it becomes real to a person. Not just a historical fact to acknowledge but a living reality to encounter.

Blessed Are Those Who Have Not Seen

Then Jesus says something that reaches across two thousand years directly to us.

Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.

We are those people.

We do not have the option Thomas had. We cannot ask Jesus to show us His hands. We cannot put our fingers where the nails were. We were not in that room.

And Jesus calls us blessed.

Not disadvantaged. Not second class believers who have to make do with less. Blessed. The ones who believe without seeing carry something that Jesus Himself said is worth honouring.

That is us today. On this Easter Sunday. Believing in a resurrection we did not witness. Trusting in an empty tomb we have never stood in front of. Saying My Lord and my God to someone we have never seen with our physical eyes.

And Jesus looks at that faith — our faith, the faith of every person who has believed without seeing across two thousand years of church history — and He says blessed.

That word is for you today. Right where you are. With all the questions you still carry and the doubts you do not always know what to do with and the faith that sometimes feels stronger and sometimes feels like you are holding on with both hands.

Blessed.

He Is Still Walking Through Locked Doors

Easter is not just something that happened two thousand years ago.

The risen Jesus is still walking through locked doors. Still showing up for the one who missed the first meeting. Still offering His hands to the person who needs to see something real before they can get there. Still meeting honest doubt with patient presence rather than lectures and disappointment.

Whatever room you have locked yourself in. Whatever grief or uncertainty or unanswered question has kept you on the outside of belief — He can walk through that door.

He did it for Thomas. He will do it for you.

He is risen. And He is still in the business of showing up for the ones who are not quite there yet. 🤍

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