St. Thomas the Apostle: A Guide To Our Inner Room

Have you ever felt left out when you wanted to be included? If you have, pray to St. Thomas the Apostle; I think he will understand how you feel. St. Thomas the Apostle—one of the twelve, a devoted follower and evangelist for Christ—learned the hard lesson that God does not give everyone the same kinds of experiences of His presence. He is the saint who is remembered in a kind of knee-jerk reaction for what he said when still overcome by grief over the death of Jesus. This statement of his led to the assignment of one of the most intransigent and dismissive nicknames ever to be embedded in the public mind:

Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe. (John 20:25)

Thomas had to have wrestled with the question: “Why did our Lord pick a time to reveal Himself to the others when I was not there?” It must have felt like steel wool being dragged across his heart. After all it was he who said, after hearing Jesus say they will return to Bethany because Lazarus had died, “Let us go too, that we may die with him” (John 11:16). Is this not an act of faith and fidelity for which any of us would like to be remembered? Thomas did not question this action or try to talk Jesus out of it, as Peter did on an earlier occasion (Matthew 16:22). Is it not a response we could repeat daily in current times and thus be regarded as true followers of Christ, willing to die to self to be closer to God?

Thomas’ insistence on seeing and touching Christ’s wounds before believing has forever attached “Doubting” to his name. Jesus assented to Thomas’ demand out of love for him while using that moment to offer a precious insight for ages to come; those who have not seen Christ’s wounds and still believe have in fact been blessed with a grace. For those of us who believe without seeing, it is not to our own credit; it is the result of God’s grace in us.

If the events of the crucifixion and resurrection happened in today’s world, would Thomas’ insistence for evidence seem an unreasonable expectation? I don’t think so; it’s likely there would still be substantial pockets of disbelief and skepticism, even after Christ showed His wounds.

Reflecting on Thomas’ state of grief when he expressed his memorable statement of doubt, don’t we all say things in such a frame of mind that we might express differently once the grief subsides? In current terminology, one might say Thomas did not sufficiently “filter his thoughts” to avoid the judgment of centuries. However, that grief-infused doubt did not stop him from eventually traveling to India to evangelize.

In a 2022 article for Indian Catholic Matters, Lucien de Guise honors the legacy of the doubter-turned-saint, writing:

St. Thomas had preached to the Hindus and Jews of southern India and had preached to thousands of converts. For St. Thomas Christians there is still no doubt that theirs is an unbroken tradition going back to their patron’s arrival in 52.

In addition to recognizing the blessing of a faith that does not insist on seeing, perhaps there is another lesson Jesus is trying to teach us through His delayed appearance to Thomas. Though following Christ may include social celebrations with others, this is not why we follow Him. We follow Him because we are called to, and not because it may result in our being among the guests of honor at a banquet or awarded admission to a select group. Perhaps Jesus’ appearance to the group at a time when Thomas was not present is His way of reminding us that, very often, our direct experience of Him will be when we go to our “inner room” to pray to Him (Matthew 6:6).

Fortunately, Scripture also records Thomas’ most deeply felt statement, spoken in a moment when he was overcome with joy. It’s a saying we can use under any circumstance to acknowledge whatever God is asking of us at the moment, whether we are being publicly honored or publicly ignored, whether our circumstances are painful or pleasant, sad or joyful, confused or clear:

My Lord and My God. (John 20:28)


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Tim McGuire is a retired Clinical Social Worker in the Midwest who brings Eucharist to the homebound, writes to men in prison, and provides piano programs to residents of a senior living facility. His articles have been published in An Unexpected Journal and The Catholic Digest, and his poems have been published in the Clayjar Review and The Penwood Review.

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