Wounds of Belief

Read: John 20:24-29
 
          The sounds of Easter's "Hallelujah" are still fresh, but as the lilies fade and the excitement of Resurrection Sunday calms, we enter a new spiritual season. Since January, we've been on a meaningful journey, building an "Unshakable" foundation and traveling "The Wilderness Road." We walked with Jesus through Palm Sunday, stood at the Cross, and saw new life come from the tomb. Now, we're starting a new series called "Echoes of the Empty Tomb: Living the Eastertide." This season isn't just about remembering a miracle from the past. It's about discovering what the Resurrection means for our everyday lives and how the early church grew from that empty grave. This week, our theme is "Wounds of Belief," focusing on Thomas's story in John 20:24-29.
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          We often call Thomas "Doubting Thomas," though that label isn't really fair. After our own long journey, many of us can relate to him more than we might admit. Thomas, also called "the Twin," seemed caught between his deep love for Jesus and the harsh reality he saw at Calvary. He wasn't with the other disciples when Jesus first appeared to them behind closed doors. While the others celebrated the Resurrection, Thomas was still in the quiet of Holy Saturday. When they told him they had seen Jesus, Thomas didn't just accept their story. He boldly said, "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." Thomas wasn't looking for a ghost or a vision. He wanted to see the real Jesus, the one who carried the scars of real pain.

          A week later, the disciples were together again, and this time Thomas was with them. Even though the doors were shut, Jesus appeared and greeted them with, "Peace be with you." He didn't scold Thomas for doubting or criticize his faith. Instead, Jesus went straight to Thomas and showed him kindness. He offered exactly what Thomas needed: "Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side." This moment shows us what "Eastertide" is about. The Resurrection didn't erase the wounds of the Cross; it changed them. Jesus still has his scars, showing us that faith isn't about avoiding pain, but about finding hope and healing through it.

          This has a big impact on our daily lives: if Jesus's resurrected body still has wounds, then our own wounds don't keep us from the new life Easter brings. During "The Wilderness Road," we spent time confessing, admitting our needs, and letting go of burdens. We might have thought that after Easter, all our scars would be gone. But "Wounds of Belief" shows us that God uses our scars as signs of His work. Thomas's story reminds us that faith isn't about being perfect or certain all the time. Often, belief comes when we face our broken places and find Christ's presence there. Our wounds connect our struggles to God's victory.

          When Thomas finally sees and touches Jesus's wounds, he says the strongest confession of faith in the Gospels: "My Lord and my God!" He moves from doubt to a real encounter with the living Christ. He understands that the one who died is alive, and the scars prove a love that never gives up. Jesus's reply is a blessing for all of us as we continue this series: "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe." That's us! We live in these "Echoes." We may not touch Jesus's side, but we see signs of His presence in the church, in sharing Holy Communion with each other, and in the lives of people who have been set free.

          As we begin this first week of Eastertide, I encourage you to reflect on your own "wounds of belief." What doubts have you been afraid to share? What scars have you tried to hide, thinking they make you less faithful? Thomas teaches us that honesty brings Jesus close. When we admit our needs and struggles, we make room for the Risen Lord to give us peace. The Resurrection doesn't ask us to ignore the Cross. Instead, it shows us that the Cross wasn't the end. What seemed like a dead end is now a doorway, where even our deepest hurts can become reasons to celebrate.

          Our journey from the empty tomb to Pentecost is just starting. As we go forward, let's remember Thomas's courage. Let's not be afraid to notice the wounds in our world—in places of pain, injustice, and sadness—because Jesus is often most present there. The echoes of the tomb aren't fading; they're getting stronger as we learn to believe, not despite our wounds, but because of them. I hope you find Christ's "Peace" in your doubts this week, and that your own words of faith become the foundation for what God is doing in your life.