“Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.’ Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!'” (John 20:27–28)

Thomas is often unjustly called “Doubting Thomas,” as if he were some sort of sceptic or unbeliever. This label is both misleading and unfair. Thomas was not doubting the possibility of Christ’s resurrection in a rationalistic or modern sense; he was demanding to see the marks of the nails and the wound in Christ’s side because he knew what had happened at Golgotha. He had seen the crucifixion with his own eyes. He had seen the Lord’s body broken, His side pierced, His blood and water poured out. He wanted to be certain that the one appearing to the other disciples was not a vision, not a ghost, and not a deception of grief or the imagination. He was not content with second-hand reports, even from the other Apostles. He wanted personal knowledge. His words—“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” (John 20:25)—were not words of defiance, but of rigorous integrity. He would not proclaim the Resurrection unless he was certain that it was the crucified Lord Himself who had risen.

Christ, in His condescension and patience, does not scold Thomas. He appears again, this time for Thomas. “Peace be with you,” He says, and then He invites Thomas to touch His wounds: “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe” (v. 27). He does not humiliate him. He meets his need. He offers His risen body for inspection. There is no dismissal, no belittling. He gives Thomas what he asked for, because faith in the Resurrection must be grounded in the reality of the Cross. The risen Christ still bears His wounds. The wounds are not erased; they are glorified. They are marks of identity, not shame. Thomas responds with the clearest and most theologically rich confession in the Gospels: “My Lord and my God!” (v. 28). He does not call Him teacher, or Rabbi, or Messiah. He calls Him Kyrios and Theos—Lord and God. This is not doubt. This is certainty. And it comes from contact with the wounded, risen flesh of the Saviour.