Touching Wounds

I have long known about Thomas and his need to be certain, but this Easter he has spoken to me in a new way. For those unfamiliar with Thomas, he was one of Jesus’ disciples who was not with the others when Jesus was made known to them after Easter. He famously said he would not believe Christ was risen unless he touched Jesus’ wounds himself. When reading his story again recently, I was drawn to an important subject: knowing Jesus through touching wounds.

Sometimes I think faith like a mustard seed would be an improvement over the faith I hold. Too often, my mind dominates, and my heart can’t get a word into the conversation. Like Thomas, I want to see things for myself; mystery becomes an uncomfortable proposition. Even though my heart longs to enter into a relationship with God, my mind stands at the gate demanding proof.

To be able to reach out and touch Jesus’ wounds would certainly do the trick, but that’s not possible. However, I realized something the other day which awakened my soul: there are wounds all around me. I have many. My wife and children do, too. My friends have wounds, and I’m sure every person I pass during the day does as well. The question is not whether there are wounds to touch. The question is whether I’ll reach out my hand?

I believe every time I touch a wound, I’m touching Christ’s. It’s how I can know him for myself. It may not be what Thomas had in mind, but it achieves the same purpose.