Reach your finger here, and look at My hands; and reach your hand here, and put it into My side. Do not be unbelieving, but believing.
John 20:27
I told them they were crazy. I got too emotional and just blurted out from my own anger and hurt, “I won’t believe unless . . .” Unless—not if or when—but unless. “Unless I put my finger in the hole in His hand that I saw the Roman guard put there. Or put my hand into His side. Nope, I don’t know what all of you saw, but I can’t go there.”
Then eight days later, we were back in the upper room. It was weird between the others and me. I mean, everyone was nice and all, but you could feel the tension when I was there.
Then it happened. I saw Him, or He let me see Him. I’m not sure. All I know is, in that moment something terribly wonderful happened to me. My pride, my pain, all the stuff I thought I was protecting by doubting began to crumble in His presence. Then He repeated the statement I had made. He granted my request. When He asked for my hand, I started weeping uncontrollably. I didn’t want to touch His hands or His side. I wanted to hide. I felt so shameful. I felt like a fool.
I don’t know how to explain it. He never made me feel these things; it must have been in me the whole time. I realized how I must have hurt the others by calling them crazy. How arrogant I was to tell them that all their experiences were invalid if I didn’t have one! He still took my finger and put it into the hole in His hand. He never took His eyes off of me. I almost didn’t want to look at Him, but at the same time, the more I looked into His eyes, the more I felt whole again. Then He took my hand, turned His side to me, and began to place my hand where the spear penetrated Him. I pulled my hand back saying, “No, don’t,” but He gently took it again and placed it in His side. Then, I lifted my eyes until they met His.
At that moment, I had the most amazing and yet heart-breaking revelation. My hand was touching the wound that paid for my unbelief. This experience was not about Him responding to my doubt, but His response to my sin. This revelation cut me one way, completely breaking my sinful, wicked, doubting heart, and then cut me again another way, healing me with redemptive grace. I could only manage to get these words out of my mouth in that moment: “My Lord and My God.”
Thomas doubted. That did not make him evil, but human. He may have doubted out of his own insecurities. Jesus visited Mary, the Emmaus boys, and now the other disciples, and he seemed to be the only one left who hadn’t seen him. That kind of disappointment or rejection could have led him to doubt, because believing would hurt too much. Whatever the reason, Jesus offers us peace.
“My Lord, and my God” was Thomas’ response to this encounter with the Christ. Nothing about this experience elicits this kind of response. In fact, nothing one can see, feel, or touch could be sufficient evidence that Jesus is God incarnate. During this encounter, Jesus pronounced over Thomas, “Peace to you.”
We all have wounds of mistrust that become the basis of many of our doubts. We need Jesus to speak “peace” to our wounded hearts so that we might see Jesus for who He is.
The Resurrected Jesus brings hope and healing for doubting Thomases. Hope that in all our insecurities, fears, carnal logic, and unbelief, Jesus still cares about us and can make us whole. Dallas Willard, a formidable author, philosophy professor, and Christian thinker, once said, “If you are going to doubt, you might as well doubt your doubts.” Don’t settle for doubts; pursue, learn, pray, listen, study, and search. But also take the time to ask, seek, and knock for the healing presence of peace to our wounded hearts.