Seeing Jesus - John 20:19-31

Donuts and Copperfield

Our brains are prediction machines. We know how things are supposed to work and we act on those predictions. Our beliefs, our circumstances, our experiences, all combine with our senses, especially sight and sound, to predict what we will experience in the next moment. We rely on this brain function all the time. If I see Ros or David walk in the door on Sunday, my stomach immediately says “donuts”. I get the warm fuzzies for a glazed donut. We depend on our brains to predict what’s being experienced so much that we have a cultural proverb: seeing is believing.

But because we are human and finite and fallen, seeing is believing can get us into trouble. We pay entertainers like David Copperfield and Penn and Teller millions every year to challenge the notion that seeing is believing. While that’s all fun and games, new technology that allows us to manipulate pictures and videos increasingly calls into question whether or not seeing is believing. A few years ago, videos on TikTok went viral showing Tom Cruise golfing and doing magic coin tricks. Only it wasn’t Tom Cruise. It’s his image. It’s his voice. But it’s artificial intelligence making our eyes see things and then believe things that are not real. What are now known as “deepfakes” challenge the idea that our eyes can be trusted.

1 + 1 = 2

At the same time, we all know that 1 + 1 = 2. Lives depend on that. This week, four astronauts returned to earth. We watched to make sure that heat shield kept them safe. It’s all based on precise calculations that must hold when lives are on the line. 1 + 1 = 2. It’s underneath the science of all of our lives. The microwave that heats our food… 1 + 1 = 2. The ibuprofen or tylenol that eases our pain: 1 + 1 = 2. The smartphone you’re looking at right now (LOL): 1 + 1 = 2.

We are so conditioned by our eyes and by our math, we begin to think that our relationship with God is this way. We think the Christian life is this way. Logic rules. Life is a math problem to be solved, so long as we have the right formula. We have turned Christianity into a bunch of formulas to be solved. Our podcasts and books promise "7 Steps to a Joy-Filled Marriage" or "The Amazing Keys for Financial Breakthrough." All of them are suggesting that if your life isn’t adding up… if 1 + 1 doesn’t equal 2… if your kids are struggling, your health is failing, or your doubt is screaming—it’s because you’ve got the math wrong. We want answers.

From Job to Thomas

And in today’s text we find a guy, one of Jesus’ best friends, who sounds an awful lot like the guy we just spent 7 weeks with in an ash heap. There’s doubt. There’s uncertainty. There’s a demand for answers. That sounds like Job. We have that with Thomas. He had followed Jesus for three years. He had watched the ministry, heard the teaching, seen the signs. He had a framework for how reality worked, and it included Jesus, and it had been worked. And then, in the blink of an eye… over a 3 day period… all of it crashes. The crucifixion happened and his worldview shatters completely. What do you do when the formula that organized your entire life stops producing the expected output? Thomas did what any honest person does — he named his new conditions. He rebuilt the formula from scratch. Unless I see. Unless I touch. Unless these specific variables are present, I will not believe. This is a guy who is still hanging on to 1 + 1 = 2. It’s the only thing that makes life certain. He wants to see.

This is absolutely fascinating as to how this all unfolds in John 20. The night of Jesus’ resurrection… the disciples are in a locked room… the upper room. 1It’s been three days since their best friend was executed by the Roman authorities in Jerusalem. These men and women are in hiding. John goes out of his way to note that they are on lockdown because they are afraid that the same crowd that had executed their prophetic rabbi would be coming after them shortly.

These people are also confused, because one of their most trusted friends, Mary Magdalene, has already burst into their sheltered huddle and announced that Jesus is alive. Peter and John were witnesses to an empty tomb, and while they had not seen Jesus, they began to believe he may in fact be risen… and here one of their community, Mary Magdalene, telling them Jesus is alive.

Jesus shows up

But… Mary’s not the only one who bursts into their room. In spite of the fact that the doors were locked… Jesus himself shows up and immediately their world is transformed. Jesus shows them his hands and his side and they believe for themselves.. Jesus is indeed alive. Their world will never be the same.

Here’s the center of all that is happening in this text:

John 20:20 Jesus showed them his hands and his side. So the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.

The power of that moment can’t be understated. John tells us that when the disciples saw Jesus, they rejoiced. There was bedlam in that room. They move from fear and confusion to rancorous celebration in a matter of seconds. Cloudy to sunny in a heartbeat. The One who was dead on the world’s darkest day is alive. Stupendous. Their seeing is believing.

Seeing Jesus is a big deal in the story of the resurrection. Earlier in the day, John tells us that:

Mary Magdalene “saw the stone had been removed from the tomb.”

Peter and John “saw the linen cloths lying in the tomb.”

John “saw and believed”

They see the greatest event in the history of the world… the resurrection. Believing is tied to seeing. John wants us to “see” Jesus. He wants his own audience to “see” Jesus. Over 100 times in the book of John the word “see” is used in some form. John the Baptist on the shores of the Jordan invites the crowd to look, see, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. A woman whose life is transformed by a conversation with Jesus next to a well runs and tells her neighbors to “come and see” the Messiah who told me all about my life. Jesus heals a man who was born blind, and when he is asked about who healed him, he says, I don’t know, but what I do know, is that once I was blind and now I see.

One week later

Jesus shows them his hands and his side. He shows them his wounds. They rejoiced when “they saw” the Lord. You know who doesn’t see? Thomas. This isn’t an accident here. It’s the beauty of John’s storytelling. Thomas is absent. That sets up a stunning escalation of what happens in that upper room. There is a detail in our Gospel reading today that we usually skip over to get to the "good part." We like the ending. We like the confession. But we often ignore the timeline. Verse 26 begins with three words that carry the weight of a thousand pounds: "A week later..."

Have you ever thought about what life must have been like for Thomas during that week? For most of us, Easter Sunday is a one-day event. We wear the nice clothes, we sing the "Alleluias," and we talk about the empty tomb. But for Thomas, there was a seven-day gap between the joy of the others and the arrival of his own peace. For seven days, Thomas lived in the "One Week Later."

Imagine that week with the others in that room. The other ten disciples are "rejoicing" (v. 20). They’ve seen the Lord. Jesus was dead, now He’s alive, problem solved. But Thomas wasn't there. We don't know where he was. Maybe he was out getting groceries; maybe he was just walking the streets of Jerusalem trying to figure out how three years of his life had just ended in a bloody execution.

Wherever he was, his absence created a vacuum. For seven days, Thomas had to listen to Mary Magdalene’s "Toxic Positivity." Can you imagine it? Seven days of Mary telling him how "amazing" it was. Seven days of Peter and John saying, "Oh Thomas, if only you’d been there! It was so transformative! You just need to have more faith!" For seven days, Thomas was the only one in the room still living in a world where dead men stay dead. He was the only one for whom the "Formula for a Joyful Life" had completely failed.

It’s also quite apparent that Thomas isn’t listening. That’s all over this. It’s not so much doubt as it is unbelief. You have this entire room saying, “we saw Jesus”. Some in that room have seen the empty tomb.. they’ve seen him more than once. Nope. Not going to go there. Not listening. That doesn’t compute. People don’t rise from the dead. Thomas is the "Doubting Job" of the New Testament. He’s sticking to his “unless”. "Unless I see... I will never believe." He’s demanding the receipts.

One week later.. it all collapses. All the details are nearly identical, except for one.

John 20:26 “A week later his disciples were indoors again, and Thomas was with them. Even though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.”

Doors are locked. Jesus comes and stands among them.. again.. not sure how that happens, but he says “Peace be with you.” And the one little detail… the difference… Thomas is there. Can you imagine? You think the other disciples don’t have out their phones to get Thomas’ reaction after a week of denial? This scene was made for TikTok… “let’s see what Thomas does with this.” You can almost see Peter and John nudging each other, waiting for the "I told you so" to finally land. Mary Magdalene is saying, “awkward.”

For seven days, Thomas has been the "buzzkill" at the Resurrection party. He’s the guy who kept reminding everyone that their "vibes" didn't change the fact that Jesus was dead. And then, in a heartbeat, the whole thing falls down.

But Jesus isn’t there with “I told you so.” That’s the law talking. No there’s something else in play. Another detail we skip when we tell this story is the most important detail of all… this is all about forgiveness. Here’s verse 23, which is part of the story one week earlier:

John 20:23 “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

One of the oddest places for a discussion about sending and forgiveness… but the disciples and Thomas are about to see exactly what it looks like. What does forgiveness look like?

John 20:27 Jesus said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and look at my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Don’t be faithless, but believe.”

Put. Look. Reach out. Put. Believe. That’s forgiveness. There’s no “I told you so”. There’s no “c’mon Thomas, what’s up with the doubt?” Just Put. Look. Reach out. Put. Believe. Jesus is moving toward Thomas with his wounds. And don’t miss that word “look”. Jesus again is directing Thomas’ eyes… to his wounds. To himself. Jesus offers Thomas everything Thomas ever wanted in that moment… Jesus himself.

And a new way of viewing the world. In that instant, Thomas’ worldview is shattered. 1 + 1 = 2 collapses. He doesn’t even bother with touching Jesus as Jesus had invited him to do. There’s nothing for Thomas to do, nowhere to go, except utter a confession:

John 20:28 “Thomas responded to him, “My Lord and my God!”

This is the "Real-Time" delivery of Verse 23: "If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven." Forgiveness is the Great Destabilizer. It is the tactical nuke dropped on the "1 + 1 = 2" world. In a "Stable" world, Thomas should be punished for his doubt. In a "Balanced" world, Thomas should have to apologize first. But Jesus destabilizes the whole economy of merit. He offers the Goods—the Forgiveness and the Peace—before Thomas even has a chance to raise a finger.

Forgiveness: Put. Look. Reach out. Put. Believe.

Forgiveness messes with our sense of a balanced life. It ruins our sense of control. If Jesus can just declare a doubter to be "at peace," then the "Formula for a Successful Life" is worthless. Jesus doesn’t walk into that room to stabilize Thomas’ life. Thomas had control of exactly one thing after the crucifixion destroyed his world — his conditions. Unless I see. Unless I touch. He couldn't control the resurrection. He couldn't control his grief. He couldn't control the testimony of all the people in the room that he trusted telling him something he couldn't bring himself to believe. But he could control the terms of his own belief. He could be the one who decided when and whether and under what circumstances he would believe.

And Jesus says “Put. Look. Reach Out. Put. Believe.” That kind of forgiveness cannot be controlled. Jesus is moving toward Thomas without asking permission. Every word is directed, targeted, intimate. This is the language of someone who knows your name and knows exactly where you are and has come specifically for you. The imperatives are not demands. They are the grammar of grace moving at full speed toward a specific person who has been standing in the rubble of his own certainty for a week.

And Thomas cannot process this. There is no processing protocol for it. You cannot run the formula on imperatives that are coming from the wounds of the risen Christ aimed at the exact coordinates of your unbelief. Put — where? Here. Look — at what? This. Reach out — toward what? Me. The commands are not abstract. They are spatial. They have an address. They are pulling Thomas across the distance between his conditions and the God who has already made them irrelevant.

That is uncontrollable grace spoken in five words. Thomas came into that room holding his conditions. Jesus spoke five imperatives and the conditions were gone. Not refuted. Not negotiated. Just — gone. Dissolved in the movement of God toward a man who needed him. You cannot manage that. You cannot systematize it. You cannot turn it into the fourth principle of the six-week series. It is just Jesus, moving, speaking, giving, and Thomas undone on the other side of it, and there’s only one thing left to say.

Confession: My Lord and my God.

This is the Jesus we must see. Jesus shatters the calculator. He offers His resurrected flesh—His scars—as the only "Certainty" that matters. Jesus is not just proving to Thomas that he is alive. He is showing Thomas what his being alive is for. He did not rise from the dead simply to demonstrate that resurrection is possible. He rose to deliver the goods. The goods being: peace with God, forgiveness of sins, life that defeats death.

Jesus Gives Himself

He’s giving Thomas forgiveness. Not moral advice. Not spiritual inspiration. Not a wellness program. Forgiveness. The one thing every human being who has ever lived most deeply needs, placed at the very center of the risen Lord's first act of sending.

Jesus moves toward Thomas just like he moves toward all of us. He doesn't just "appear". He "happens" to Thomas. Jesus gives Himself to Thomas. And a confession for all time is created in that moment. That's Jesus FOR Thomas. That's Jesus FOR YOU. This is no accident. This is the heart of Easter. Jesus did not rise to impress us. He rose to forgive us. You struggle with doubt? You struggle with certainty? You think certainty makes the world go round? A lot of us do. Jesus is the only certainty we need. And what makes it the certainty we need is forgiveness.

Because forgiveness means your uncertainty, your doubt, your week of resistance, your collapsed formula, your impossible conditions — none of it disqualifies you from the movement of Jesus toward you. The certainty is not I will never doubt again. The certainty is he will always come anyway. Those are not the same thing. The first one puts the weight on you. The second one puts the weight where it belongs — on the God who walked through locked doors and gave himself and his wounds and his forgiveness to a man who had spent a week saying no. That is the only certainty that survives contact with real life. Not the certainty of your own belief. The certainty of his wounds, held open, for you, every Sunday, at this Table.

Let’s Pray.

The Table

This is where come and see lands on Sunday morning. Not as a metaphor. Not as a spiritual concept requiring your imaginative cooperation. But here, at this Table, in San Benito, Texas, with this bread and this cup, in this room, with these people. The same Jesus who walked through locked doors walks into this room. The same Jesus who spoke Thomas's name speaks yours. The same wounds that were held open for Thomas are present in this body and this blood — because it is the same body, the same blood, the one given and shed for you and for the forgiveness of sins. You do not need to have your doubt resolved before you come. You do not need to have achieved sufficient certainty. You do not need to have said the right things or felt the right feelings or maintained the right interior state since last Sunday. You need to come. That is all. Come as Thomas — resistant, uncertain, conditions still forming on your lips — and find that Jesus has already been here waiting, already moving toward you, already holding out the only thing he has ever had to offer, which is himself, completely, for you, without remainder. The formula cannot save you. The steps cannot save you. The certainty you manufacture from the inside out will not hold. But this will hold. This Table will hold. Because he is here. He always is. Come and see.

Benediction