John 20:19-31 Commentary

Those Jesus called “brothers” last week have been told the news about Jesus’s resurrection by Mary Magdalene (v. 18) and they’ve come together, not out of hope or wonder, but John says, out of fear. For all intents and purposes, I think that we are supposed to understand that the disciples are in hiding because they know that the authorities will believe that they are the reason Jesus’s body is missing and they fear for their lives.

So now fear is mixed with grief, mixed with regret, and likely mixed with shame for how they abandoned Jesus just days ago. The layers of shock that come with unexpected death have only been compounded by Mary’s wild story of Jesus’s resurrection. They aren’t out there looking for Jesus, they are locked up tight and out of sight. We can imagine huddled whispers, darting glances when shadows cross the opening below the door, and a genuine edginess in the room.

So it’s got to be another shock when Jesus is poof! standing in the center of that room and saying, “Peace be with you.” It seems to me that we’ve been given the CliffsNotes version of this encounter, bullet points where a lot of subtext is left out. Because as if appearing in a room under lock and key wasn’t miraculous proof enough, Jesus jumps in the narrative to showing them his crucifixion wounds to prove his identity. This isn’t some nasty trick or trap but the real deal, in the flesh.

Plus the emphasis on speaking peace makes me wonder what Jesus saw on their faces as he looked around the room. As I think about what I would be feeling if I were sitting there, if I had been them and done what they’ve done (isn’t that kind of the point of understanding our own sinfulness?), that word of peace goes much further and deeper within than just stilling my fears about the Roman authorities scouring the city looking for me and my friends. Last week, I noted how Jesus reveals his forgiveness by the way he calls the disciples his brothers; here we see him speak it as “Peace.”

He speaks peace, and then gives Easter power and entrustment. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you,” breathing the Holy Spirit in the same sort of creative act we read about throughout the Old Testament. “Receive the Holy Spirit.” Is there a gentleness and a grace to the way that Jesus speaks about forgiveness here? We’ve not heard a single man talk about their struggles and the impact of that behaviour for Jesus or others. (Is this another reason to think we’ve been given the CliffsNotes version?) And still, Jesus speaks forgiveness. In the past, I’ve understood this as integrally connected to the fear and anger they have towards those who instigated and worked to make sure that Jesus’s execution actually happened. Now, I wonder if there isn’t also a word for them in Jesus’s description. Easter power is like that—layered and richly profound, growing itself as the Spirit works.

The disciples become like Mary was for them, trying to convince another (Thomas) with their words that what they are saying is believable. They seem to tell Thomas the whole story of how they came to trust that the encounter was real because Thomas essentially responds with, “Yeah well, until it happens for me too, I’m not buying it.” And again, Jesus is kind enough to do so. Jesus wants his brother to have peace.

Jesus ends their encounter with a word for us all, especially those of us living post-Ascension. “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” Being able to trust the witness and hope of others is how the Holy Spirit will grow this Easter religion. Being able to move from hearing someone else’s story and wonder about its implication in your own life will become the foundation of entrusting yourself to God. There is no other way for Christians today than to build on the words of others. This is how God has chosen to work. The Gospel writer provides his own commentary in our closing lectionary verses to this same effect. In coming to read and hear the stories of God at work, we too “may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing [we] may have life in his name.”

Textual Point

BDAG’s primary definition of pisteuō (translated as “believe”) is “to consider something to be true and therefore worthy of one’s trust.” Its secondary definition is “to entrust oneself to an entity in complete confidence.” Can we blame Thomas for not trusting the words of his fellow disciples? By the time that Thomas encounters Jesus for himself, the “who” Thomas is putting his trust in has shifted to Christ himself, and his proclamation, “My Lord and my God!” implies that the meaning of belief has shifted to that secondary sense as well. This double sense of the word applies just as strikingly to those that Jesus describes: others are blessed because they have put their trust in God by trusting the words of others.

Illustration Idea

As many of us do from time to time, I’ve been thinking about forgiveness and how it is transformative. We have all probably encountered the idea that we can work at forgiveness even with people who don’t ask for it, but how powerfully restorative it is—for everyone involved—to seek forgiveness. Would the disciples have gotten there eventually? What is there to make of the fact that Jesus offers forgiveness before it is even sought? Personally, I’ve struggled with people who have wronged me and have not asked for forgiveness but after a time of separation, have tried to slowly inch their toes back into our mutual waters without any attempts at amends. Obviously, us doing the work to be reconciled would be good for all of us, but is there a way for me to live in God’s Easter power peace with someone even when forgiveness is not sought?