The Rev. Dr. Brandon Perrine
Easter 2A
John 20:19-31
April 12, 2026
It was still the first day of the week. That evening, while the disciples were behind closed doors because they were afraid of the Jewish authorities, Jesus came and stood among them. He said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. When the disciples saw the Lord, they were filled with joy. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father sent me, so I am sending you.” Then he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone’s sins, they are forgiven; if you don’t forgive them, they aren’t forgiven.” Thomas, the one called Didymus, one of the Twelve, wasn’t with the disciples when Jesus came. The other disciples told him, “We’ve seen the Lord!” But he replied, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands, put my finger in the wounds left by the nails, and put my hand into his side, I won’t believe.” After eight days his disciples were again in a house and Thomas was with them. Even though the doors were locked, Jesus entered and stood among them. He said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here. Look at my hands. Put your hand into my side. No more disbelief. Believe!” Thomas responded to Jesus, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus replied, “Do you believe because you see me? Happy are those who don’t see and yet believe.” Then Jesus did many other miraculous signs in his disciples’ presence, signs that aren’t recorded in this scroll. But these things are written so that you will believe that Jesus is the Christ, God’s Son, and that believing, you will have life in his name.
~o~
Last weekend, a boy and his mother ran into their minister at the store. The boy told the minister they were getting ready for Easter. Seeing a teaching opportunity, the minister replied, “Oh really? Do you know what Easter’s all about?” The boy looked a little offended. “Of course I do. It’s when Jesus went to Jerusalem on a donkey and he got in trouble and they nailed him on a cross and then he died. They put him in a tomb with a big rock in front of it. But three days later the rock was rolled away.” “That’s great!” said the minister, pleased to know the Sunday School program worked so well. “But that’s not all,” said the boy. “When the rock gets rolled back, Jesus steps out and looks around, and so on Easter if he sees his shadow there’s six more weeks of winter.”1
With the weather we’ve had this spring, nothing would surprise me! According to the story we just heard from John’s gospel, when Jesus exited the tomb, he went to visit his pals, the 12 disciples. Unfortunately, only 10 of them were present. Judas was no longer among them and Thomas, it seems, had stepped out. When he returned, the 10 told him about their miraculous visitor, but he famously responded that he wouldn’t believe it until he’d seen and touched the wounds in Jesus’ hands and side, thus garnering him the unshakeable nickname “Doubting Thomas.”
In deference to Thomas, it’s worth pointing out that we don’t call Peter “Denying Peter” or Mark “Ran-Away-Naked Mark”—even though Peter did deny Jesus and the young man in Mark’s gospel did run away naked when Jesus was arrested. Why should Thomas be saddled with this title, when no one else seems to be known by the worst thing they ever did? But it stuck. Like it or not, I suspect that Thomas will always be Doubting Thomas, patron saint of doubters, skeptics, and—oddly enough— theologians. Scholar Elaine Pagels believes that is by very intentional design.
In her book Beyond Belief, Pagels undertakes to prove that the Gospel According to John, the only gospel containing the story of so-called Doubting Thomas, was written with the express intention of countering the theological claims in the extra-biblical Gospel of Thomas and discrediting Thomas, once and for all.
Whether or not Pagels is correct, we now know that early Christianity was significantly more diverse than previous generations believed it to be. Prior to the great councils, the adoption of the creeds, and the canonization of scripture, there was considerable variety among those who knew themselves to be followers of Jesus. This came to be seen as problematic by some. They couldn’t all be right, could they?
In the centuries that followed, “correct” belief came to be understood more and more narrowly. Certain gospels—like Thomas—were condemned, while others—like John—became official scripture. The variety of the early Jesus movement was replaced by the conformity of orthodox—so-called correct—Christianity.
So, why the early church history lesson, you may be wondering. I’ve observed what I believe to be a growing trend on social media and in society as a whole—people intentionally disassociating with the church or becoming ex-Christians. It usually begins with what is commonly called deconstruction. One author defines deconstruction as “a crisis of Christian faith that leads to either a reevaluation of Christianity or sometimes a total abandonment of Christianity.”2
While most people who ultimately leave the faith deconstruct, not everyone that deconstructs leaves the faith. In fact, I would be willing to bet that a significant number of us in this room have actually deconstructed the faith we inherited from our families or adopted early on.
Deconstruction is not a bad thing. Reevaluating one’s faith is not a bad thing—in fact, it can be a very good thing. The tragedy is that most people have bought into the idea that if it doesn’t look like this narrowly defined version of correct Christianity, then it’s not Christianity at all. The big tent of the early Jesus movement has gotten so small that many people simply do not find themselves inside it anymore. And that is the tragedy.
I’m not looking for hands, but how many of us have heard people say that they can’t be part of a church because of its implied stance on any number of hot-button issues? How many of us have friends, family members, or even children that have basically distanced themselves from what they perceive to be a backward, self-serving, money-hungry extension of status quo? How many of us have ever wondered whether we really belong in the Christian tent ourselves?
Thankfully, there are churches like this one—churches trying to be the big tent of the early Jesus movement; trying to live and love like Jesus together while holding a variety of personal beliefs about Jesus; trying to experience Christian fellowship built on mutual respect and the honoring of other; trying to experience real peace, not because we all agree, but because we truly value one another, despite disagreeing on some things.
And maybe that’s where Thomas comes back into the story. Whatever the author’s intentions—to discredit Thomas or not—they’ve shown us something important: that it’s natural to have doubts; that it’s good to seek answers; that faith and intellect are not mutually exclusive; that not everyone responds to Jesus in the same way—and that Jesus is okay with that.
He welcomes Thomas. He gives him what he needs. And he sends him forth as a witness. That’s what we’re called to do too. To welcome people. To give them what they need—not what we think they need. And to go forth, once again, as witnesses in word and in deed.
May it be so. Amen.
1 Elizabeth Rees. “Gospels As Stand-Up Comedy,” Reverendelizabeth.blogspot.com, April 18, 2018: https://reverendelizabeth.blogspot.com/2018/04/gospel-as-stand-up-comedy.html.
2 Brian Zahnd. When Everything’s On Fire, Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2021.
