Second Sunday of Easter (or Sunday of Divine Mercy)

First Reading

Acts 2:42-47

They devoted themselves
to the teaching of the apostles and to the communal life,
to the breaking of bread and to the prayers.
Awe came upon everyone,
and many wonders and signs were done through the apostles.
All who believed were together and had all things in common;
they would sell their property and possessions
and divide them among all according to each one’s need.
Every day they devoted themselves
to meeting together in the temple area
and to breaking bread in their homes.
They ate their meals with exultation and sincerity of heart,
praising God and enjoying favor with all the people.
And every day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.

Second reading

1 Peter 1:3-9

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,
who in his great mercy gave us a new birth to a living hope
through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,
to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading,
kept in heaven for you
who by the power of God are safeguarded through faith,
to a salvation that is ready to be revealed in the final time.
In this you rejoice, although now for a little while
you may have to suffer through various trials,
so that the genuineness of your faith,
more precious than gold that is perishable even though tested by fire,
may prove to be for praise, glory, and honor
at the revelation of Jesus Christ.
Although you have not seen him you love him;
even though you do not see him now yet believe in him,
you rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy,
as you attain the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

Gospel

John 20:19-31

On the evening of that first day of the week,
when the doors were locked, where the disciples were,
for fear of the Jews,
Jesus came and stood in their midst
and said to them, “Peace be with you.”
When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side.
The disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.
Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you.
As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”
And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them,
“Receive the Holy Spirit.
Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them,
and whose sins you retain are retained.”

Thomas, called Didymus, one of the Twelve,
was not with them when Jesus came.
So the other disciples said to him, “We have seen the Lord.”
But he said to them,
“Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands
and put my finger into the nailmarks
and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

Now a week later his disciples were again inside
and Thomas was with them.
Jesus came, although the doors were locked,
and stood in their midst and said, “Peace be with you.”
Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands,
and bring your hand and put it into my side,
and do not be unbelieving, but believe.”
Thomas answered and said to him, “My Lord and my God!”
Jesus said to him, “Have you come to believe because you have seen me?
Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”

Now, Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples
that are not written in this book.
But these are written that you may come to believe
that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God,
and that through this belief you may have life in his name.

Sermon

Sisters and brothers!

“Thomas the Doubting” – it is by this nickname that the apostle has become known in today’s Gospel passage. Less firmly rooted in the public consciousness, however, is his other nickname, which is actually recorded in the Gospel: Twin.

Perhaps this means that Thomas could be a twin to many people—closely related and similar—and specifically in what this Easter story is about: related in doubt and skepticism. Does Thomas not share the religious faith situation of many in this regard, especially with regard to the elusive Easter message of the Resurrection? After all, which of our contemporaries can so easily claim to have seen, sensed, or touched the Risen One?

Today, everyone—like Thomas—relies on the reports and testimonies of others. No one can, should, or is allowed to leave the resulting doubts at the church door with a clear conscience: they are an integral part of modern faith. And the same applies to the “active” form of doubt—skepticism, born of the union of doubt with the gift of thought. Skeptical questioning of religious tradition is by no means a sign of unbelief or even mocking contempt—on the contrary:

Skepticism is “piety of thought”! Ultimately, skepticism is even necessary for anyone capable of critical thinking, and it is an indication of how seriously a person takes their faith.

But what, then, of that other phrase we encounter in today’s Gospel—namely, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed”?—This phrase is usually interpreted as a rebuke to the doubter and as praise for those who, somehow, trust blindly after all.

But why, then, does the Risen One engage so deeply with Thomas immediately before this?

Did he not just dispel Thomas’s doubts by his very appearance and his invitation to touch him—and by that alone? Perhaps the beatitude of those who believe without seeing is merely a statement of fact, perhaps also a word of compassion; a word that simply acknowledges the gnawing pain of doubt, but by no means reproaches or even forbids it, because that would make no sense at all.

And perhaps, then, the story of Jesus’ encounter with the doubting Thomas is a kind of parable about how a person can come to the Easter faith at all:

Perhaps this is the true message of Easter for us today. We don’t have to be perfect believers. We don’t have to understand and accept everything right away. We are allowed to ask questions, to doubt, and to search. But we are invited to let ourselves be touched—by a God who comes to meet us, who takes our questions seriously, and who encounters us precisely in our imperfection.

So when Jesus says, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed”—that is not a reproach, but a promise! It is a promise to us who live today. And so we too—perhaps quietly, perhaps searching, but sustained by trust—should speak our own confession:

“My Lord and my God.”

I think Thomas should be remembered not only as a doubter,

but also as a prototype of how a person can find faith through doubt and skepticism.