When St. Thomas picks up his unflattering soubriquet “Doubting Thomas,” he is asking (perhaps unawarely) for the privilege of entering more deeply into the profundity of Christ’s passion, death, and resurrection. When Christ appears to him, Christ says, “peace,” and while admonishing Thomas’ little, mustard-seed faith, Christ presents his wounds to the man who was willing to die with him back in John 11. I love how Caravaggio incorporates Christ reaching to bring Thomas’ own finger into the place of the wound, bringing εν χριστος into literal display. What St. Thomas professed to need (visible proof of Christ’s resurrection), Jesus is glad to provide. St. Thomas’ doubt magnifies Christ’s mercy.

The rays of light emitting from the wound of Christ come from St. Faustina’s icon of the divine mercy, whose accompanying prayer repeats the phrase “have mercy on us and on the whole world.” Faith is not the absence of incredulity, but rather the endurance of incredulity until the light of divine mercy shines—trusting that God will mercy for the broken and hurting world. The Church unites these images on the 8th day of Easter—imagine needing to wait an entire week longer than the other disciples before seeing the Lord! But the Lord does appear; His light shines on those who dwell in darkness; He takes us by the hands to give us what we need; He prepares our voice to recognize him as St. Thomas did: “my Lord, my God!”

Jesus, I trust in you.
+JMJ+