I think Thomas gets a bad rep. After all, he wasn’t in the room with the other disciples when the risen Christ appeared to them. He didn’t see the nail-scarred hands himself; neither did he stick his hand where Jesus was speared. All he had was the word of his fellow disciples, and they’ve obviously gone crackers!

Jesus is dead, remember? They were all there when He died, so they should know. They saw the man they called Lord for three years hanging on a Roman cross, despised and humiliated. They saw the blood pouring from his hands, feet, brow, and side. He’s <em>dead!</em> Dead people don’t just get up and walk around, right? So Thomas says, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe” (John 20:25).

Can you blame him? I know I would have said the same thing if I were Thomas. In fact, I already do.

If I can be honest with you, I have trouble believing in the Resurrection. No, it’s not because of anything I read by Marcus Borg or any other Jesus Seminar scholars. It’s because the Resurrection means that death has been defeated. It means that God is restoring God’s creation and God’s kingdom. It means we are free. Yet when I look around, all I see are bondage, misery, suffering, and death.

That’s why I’ve always had a hard time getting into the Easter season. I can get ecstatic about Advent, Ash Wednesday, Lent, and Good Friday, though. I understand waiting for God to restore the world. I understand death and how we will all return to dust someday. I understand brokenness. And I definitely understand suffering, pain, humiliation, and persecution.

But resurrection? Death has been defeated? God making all things new? Pfft, I’ll believe it when I see it!

The other day I was talking to a friend of mine about this. She said she sometimes wants to see the nail-scarred hands, too. “But then I realize,” she said, “<em>we</em> are the proof. Me and you. The sin in my life has been defeated. My life has been resurrected. We are the proof of the Resurrection to the world.”

Maybe she’s right. I can’t see Jesus’ scars, but I can see my own, and God knows I have plenty of them! And yet, I’m still here. I’m breathing. I’m alive. Despite all the pain, suffering, and doubt I’ve been through—and will no doubt go through in the future—I’m somehow able to stand before people and show them my scars.

If <a href="http://provoketive.com/2012/04/04/the-suffering-god/">God suffers with us</a>, then we resurrect with Jesus. Or as Paul puts it, “we have been united with [Jesus] in a death like his, we will certainly also be united with him in a resurrection like his” (Romans 6:5). So maybe I don’t need to see Jesus’ scars to believe in the Resurrection. I just need to look at my own.