Welcome, sisters and brothers, and peace be with you. May the words on my lips and the meditations in our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen. It was a quiet evening in a small apartment. A young woman sat alone, her phone lighting up her face in the dim room. She had lost her job. Her savings were running low, and the messages that she scrolled through only seemed to deepen her anxiety. World news of conflict division bluster bullying uncertainty. Earlier that day she had texted a friend. I don't know what to believe any more about the future about hope even about God. Later that night there was a knock on her door. She hesitated. No one was expected. Slowly she opened it, and standing there was her neighbour, someone she barely knew, holding a warm meal, and saying simply I thought you might need this. Remember, you're not alone. That moment didn't solve everything. The young woman's problems, the world situation didn't disappear. However, something shifted. In the middle of fear, doubt and uncertainty. A presence broke through. Hope stood at the door. This is where we find the disciples in today's gospel John chapter twenty verses nineteen to thirty one. It is evening. The doors are locked. Fear fills the room. These are not bold, confident followers of Christ, they are frightened people, hiding, unsure of what comes next. The one they trusted has been crucified. The future they imagined has collapsed. And into that locked, fearful space Jesus comes. He doesn't wait for them to figure things out. He doesn't want to wait for their faith to be strong. He simply appears. And he says, Peace be with you. This is the first gift to us from the risen Christ. Peace in the midst of fear. Notice what Jesus does not say. He does not rebuke them for hiding. He does not say Why did you abandon me? Instead, he brings peace. A peace in a world ancient or modern that is not the absence of trouble, but the presence of Christ Himself. How often do we live behind locked doors, those doors of anxiety, fear, disappointment, global uncertainty? Like those disciples, we try to protect ourselves. We can close off, we can withdraw, we can doubt. And yet the risen Jesus still comes, not because we are strong, but because he is faithful, reliable, and trustworthy. Then Jesus shows them his hands and his side. The wounds are still there. Do you notice that? Resurrection has not erased the scars. And this is the second gift to us from the risen Christ, a hope that includes our wounds. We often think that faith means everything becomes perfect, but do you notice how the risen Christ bears scars? That means our pain, our struggles, even our failures. None of those are wasted. In Christ, they are transformed. Your wounds do not disqualify you from faith. They may, in fact, become the very place where you encounter God most deeply. Then Jesus breathes on them, and he says Receive the Holy Spirit. This echoes the very breath of God in creation. It is new life, new beginning. These fearful disciples are being remade. And then comes the mission. As the Father has sent me, so I send you. This is the third gift to us from the risen Christ. It is a purpose that goes beyond our worries and our fears. Even in their uncertainty, even before they fully understood, they are sent. Faith is not about having everything figured out. It is about being willing to step forward, trusting that Christ goes with us. Aha and then we meet Thomas. Thomas was not there that first evening. When the others tell him we have seen the Lord. He can't believe it. He says unless I see, unless I touch, I will not believe. Thomas is honest. He voices what many feel but are afraid to say. And here is the good news. Jesus meets Thomas in his doubt. A week later Jesus comes again. The doors are still closed, the disciples are still gathered, and this time Christ speaks directly to Thomas. Put your finger here. See my hands. Jesus does not reject Thomas. He invites him. Doubt is not the opposite of faith. Doubt perhaps is the doorway to a deeper faith if we bring it honestly to Christ. And Thomas responds with one of the most profound declarations in all of Scripture My Lord and my God. From doubt to faith, not because Thomas figured it all out on his own, but because Jesus met him where he was. And then Jesus speaks the words that reach to us across the centuries. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe. And yes, my sisters and brothers, that's us. We have not seen the risen Christ with our eyes, we have not touched his wounds, yet we are invited to believe, not blindly but trustingly. We see Christ in moments of unexpected kindness, like that neighbour at the door. We see Christ in the courage to keep going when life is hard. We see Christ in the quiet assurance that we are not alone. This gospel ends by saying these things are written so that you may come to believe, and that through believing you may have life in his name. Not just existence, not just survival life life a full, meaningful, hope filled life. So where does that leave us today? Maybe you feel like the disciples afraid, uncertain about the future, locked behind closed doors. Maybe you feel like Thomas Questioning, needing proof, struggling to believe. Or maybe you are somewhere in between. Wherever you are, the message is the same. In the midst of a troubled world, Christ comes to you. He speaks with peace and hope into your fear. He meets you with peace and hope in your doubt. He breathes new life, new peace, new hope into your spirit, and he sends you out filled with peace and hope and with purpose. The doors may still be locked. The questions may not all be answered, but Christ is present. And sometimes that presence looks like a simple knock on the door, a reminder that you are not alone. Shalom shalom Asalama Laikum. Peace be with you.
