Richard Doster
On the first Easter evening, Jesus’ disciples had slipped away and gathered at some remote location behind locked doors. They hoped to lay low and avoid those who'd orchestrated the arrest and execution of Jesus, and who might now be searching for them.
But somehow — silently and to the amazement of everyone — Jesus appeared there. The disciples turned to one another — “startled and terrified,” the Scriptures say, and wondered aloud if he was a ghost. That's how odd this was. The figure that stood before them made no sense; it (or he) was beyond the realm of what they believed was possible. A ghost, then, must have seemed more plausible than a resurrected Jesus.
But there he was, in the room and in the flesh. He showed them the scars on his hands and the wound in his side. Later, he even cooked some fish so that they'd see he was hungry, just the same as every living, breathing human.
All the disciples saw him with their own eyes, except for Thomas. When the others told him the story he wasn’t buying it. They were delusional, he thought, seeing what they so desperately wanted to see. Even when they described Jesus’ wounds, Thomas wouldn’t budge. He scoffed at the notion, insisting that he’d have to touch the wounds — to put his fingers where the nails and spear had pierced Jesus’ skin — only then would he believe that Christ had risen.
Thus, he became “doubting Thomas.”
A week later the disciples were together again in the same house; this time Thomas was there. Once again, Jesus appeared. He went to Thomas, stretched out his hands and said, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side.” And then Jesus added, “Do not disbelieve, but believe.”
And without further interaction, Thomas declared, “My Lord and my God” (John 20:28). There was no hesitation, nor a shred of doubt.
And the truth is, when we look at the events that led to this one, Thomas never doubted more than the others. Peter and John believed because they had seen the empty tomb and the grave clothes Jesus left inside. Mary believed because she had seen, heard, and touched Jesus. The disciples believed because they had examined the wounds left by the crucifixion. They, and many others, were all persuaded by the physical evidence.
So why is this a big deal? Why do we need to know that Thomas saw Jesus, touched him, heard him, and even smelled him? Why did Jesus need to tell Thomas, "Because you have seen me, you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed" (John 20:29).
It is, of course, for us. It’s because Christ’s followers — now and until he comes again — need to know that a physical, death-defeating resurrection puts everything in a spectacular new light. We need to understand that if a man rose from the dead, then everything we do brims with a new and glorious purpose. No other conclusion is possible. In this world, dead men don't rise. The biological realities and anatomical truths are fixed and immutable. But if God, by the sheer power of his will, repealed these inviolable laws, then our perspective must change. If Jesus was dead and then became alive, we need to see everything in the light of that single event.
And the reality of it boils down to this: If Jesus defeated death, then a new kingdom has come. And there’s a different way to think about what’s real and what’s possible.
That day, when Thomas touched Jesus’ wounds, he was drawn into a realm that had never existed; one that was renewed by hope and redefined by a measure of love no one had ever imagined.
Such thoughts don't always square with our circumstances, but that’s the point. If Christ overcame the power of death, then he also prevailed over the power of brute force. By his resurrection, Christ brushed aside the power of wealth and influence. He even deposed the false gods of greed, envy, and lust.
When Jesus walked out of the tomb, his work of renewal began, and we are the primary tools he employs. Our work lives and our retirement lives are, then, to be inspired by our hope for eternity. If the kingdom has come, then salvation isn’t something we have to wait for, says theologian N.T. Wright; we get a glimpse of it now. A new era of redemption has begun, and our lives are to anticipate its glorious consummation.
Richard Doster lives in Fernandina Beach with his wife Sally. He's the founding editor of byFaith, the magazine of the Presbyterian Church in America. Reach him at doster.richard@gmail.com.