2nd Sunday of Easter - Sunday 12 April 2026
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Meditatio:
‘ Blessed are those who have not seen and yet
have come to believe.’ (John 20:29)
To have faith is to trust and to entrust. It means taking a step, sometimes a leap, without full certainty. Faith does not require doubt, yet because we are limited creatures, doubt often accompanies the journey. In trusting, we hand our doubts to God, and God receives them. Simple? Yes and no. Life is rarely clear‑cut, and questions press in on every side.
If everything we believed were provable in a scientific
sense, trust would be unnecessary. But we live in a world marked by
uncertainty, struggle, growth, and change. This is the human condition. And so
we return to the great definition in Hebrews 11:1:
Bereavement and the faith that can grow in doubt
In bereavement—a universal human experience—our emotions are
mixed. Some people of deep faith sense signs of their loved one’s continuing
care. Others hold fast to the hope of reunion in God. These movements of the
heart should not be dismissed as mere coping mechanisms. The seeds of faith lie
deep within us, and they often grow in the rough soil of turmoil and
uncertainty. We look for clues, for reassurance, for something—or Someone—to
hold on to.
Thomas, “the twin,” is a thoroughly modern figure. He wanted
honesty, not second‑hand conviction. Perhaps he had been misled before; perhaps
the disciples were not always reliable narrators. Why should he accept the
impossible? Yet God meets us precisely in our doubts, questions, and honest
searching.
The wounds of Christ and the goodness of the material
When Jesus appears again “eight days later,” he shows Thomas
his wounds. However glorified his risen body, the wounds remain. Our peace is
found there. John’s Gospel is profoundly sacramental: blood and water, body and
touch, seeing and believing. The material world is not an obstacle to the
spiritual but its companion. We reach the spiritual through the physical; they
are two sides of one reality.
Resurrection: continuity and transformation
Origen, writing in the second century, described the
resurrection as a “spiritual transformation without loss of individual
identity.” He rejected both crude resuscitation and the gnostic dismissal of
matter. While some of his language was later judged speculative, his instinct
was sound: the risen body is continuous with the earthly body, yet transformed.
Scripture itself holds this tension.
Material is good. The spiritual is not a ghostly alternative
but the fulfilment of the material.
Paul’s seed metaphor in 1 Corinthians helps us today: the
seed is buried, dies, and yet becomes something new. There is continuity, yet
also radical transformation. Understanding this requires imagination, humility,
and trust. We hear the word; we do not know how; we believe.
“What you sow does not come to life unless it dies… God
gives it a body as he has chosen.” (1 Cor 15:37–38)
Ancient faith, living thought
Our faith is 2,000 years old, but our thinking need not be.
After all our debates, efforts, and sufferings, everything rests on this:
“If Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation has
been in vain and your faith has been in vain.” (1 Cor 15:14)
A sobering—and life‑giving—truth.
Further reading: notes and questions, verse by verse
Preliminaries
This passage is unique among the four Gospels. Written
roughly sixty years after the Resurrection, it reflects the lived experience of
the early Johannine community, likely situated in what is now modern‑day
Turkey.
20:19–20 — Jesus Appears to the Disciples
“When it was evening on that day, the first day of the
week…”
The disciples are gathered behind locked doors “for fear of
the Jews”—a phrase reflecting the growing tension between early Christians and
the synagogue communities from which many of them came. As Christianity emerged
as a distinct movement, faithful Jewish Christians often found themselves
expelled from the synagogues. John’s Gospel carries the marks of this painful
separation.
Into this fear, Jesus speaks: “Peace be with you.”
This peace—eirēnē in Greek, shalom in Hebrew—is not simply the
absence of conflict. It is wholeness, blessing, and the joining together of
what has been torn apart. It is the peace the early Christians desperately
needed as their communities fractured and re‑formed.
We, too, yearn for peace, though we often seek it in the
wrong places. The peace Christ gives is of a different order entirely—warmth,
light, spaciousness, and ease. It is a peace that can break through even in the
aftermath of trauma, just as it did for the apostles in the days following the
crucifixion.
20:21–23 — The Gift of the Holy Spirit
Jesus repeats his blessing of peace and then commissions his
disciples:
“As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”
He breathes on them—emphysáō, a verb used only here
in the New Testament—and says, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” The same verb
appears in Genesis 2:7, when God breathes life into Adam. John is telling us
that the Resurrection inaugurates a new creation. The Spirit empowers the
disciples to preach, to heal, and to forgive sins. Without the Spirit, the
mission cannot succeed; with the Spirit, the peace of God becomes a healing
force for the world.
20:24–26 — Thomas the Doubter
Thomas, called the Twin, was not present at the first
appearance. He wants evidence—reasonable, empirical, tangible. His caution is
understandable. Perhaps he had been misled before. Perhaps the disciples’
excitement sounded like exaggeration. His demand for proof is not cynicism but
honesty.
20:27–29 — The Faith of Thomas Confirmed
A week later, Jesus appears again and invites Thomas to
touch his wounds. Christ meets Thomas exactly where he is. Doubt dissolves in
the presence of the Risen One, and Thomas makes the great confession of faith:
“My Lord and my God!”
This is more than sight; it is encounter. It is the heart
recognising truth, goodness, and beauty in the person of Christ. Each of us
must ask: Have I had such an encounter? Do I need to renew it? Where am I on my
journey as a thinking, believing disciple in the 21st century?
Jesus’ final beatitude is for us:
“Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
We are among those blessed ones. And as 1 Peter reminds us:
“Although you have not seen him, you love him… you
believe in him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy.” (1 Pet
1:8)
This joy is our compass and our armour as we navigate the
seas of doubt.
20:30–31 — The Purpose of the Gospel
John concludes by reminding us that many signs of Jesus were
not recorded. These were written “so that you may come to believe that Jesus
is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in
his name.”
Brother Roger of Taizé once wrote:
“A luminous Gospel insight has come to light after gathering dust for a long time:
The Risen Christ is united to every human being without exception, even if they are not aware of it.”
Christ’s universal solidarity with humanity does not remove
the need for personal response to grace, but reveals the depth of His love for
every person.
His community prayed:
“O Christ, you are united to every human being without exception… Risen from the dead, you come to heal the secret wound of the soul.”
This is the fruit of faith: joy—overflowing, enduring joy.
20:20 Joy
“The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.”
Christ is risen and with us now.
Alleluia. Let us rejoice. Amen.
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