We spend so much of our lives trying to be sure—sure of the outcome, sure of the person, sure that God is real and near. These Gospel scenes put that ache for certainty right in the middle of the risen Lord’s first words to his fearful friends: “Peace.” What would it take for your doubt to meet the risen Jesus and be held—rather than shamed—by him? This passage matters because it shows God meeting fragile, frightened people and beginning a mission from the place of their honest weakness.

In these accounts Jesus appears to his disciples in Jerusalem after the resurrection. Luke (24:36–49) and John (20:19–29) both record Jesus greeting them with peace, showing his hands and feet, and commissioning them to proclaim repentance and forgiveness. Luke emphasizes that Jesus opened their minds to the Scriptures and even ate to show he was truly risen. John records the evening appearance and then, uniquely, a week later the story of Thomas—who refuses to believe without touching Jesus’ wounds—and Jesus’ patient invitation to touch and then to believe. Mark 16:14–18 contains a similar rebuke of unbelief and a commissioning, but those verses come in the longer ending of Mark, which is present in many manuscripts but absent from some earliest ones.

These moments reveal who Jesus is: bodily, personal, and unafraid of our questions. He does not scold curiosity into silence; he meets it with evidence and with the gift of peace. The Kingdom he inaugurates is not a polished, doubt-free community but a forgiven, sent one—a people who have been held and then released to bear witness. Don’t miss the weight: God’s victory over death doesn’t erase fear; it transfigures it into mission.

Today, bring one honest doubt to God in prayer—name it on paper or aloud—and then read one short resurrection scene (Luke 24 or John 20) slowly. Offer that doubt to Jesus and ask for his peace. Practically: speak a word of peace to someone anxious today, or take one small step of obedience you’ve been avoiding because you weren’t “sure.” The risen Christ meets our uncertainty with wounds we may touch and a Spirit that sends us out—imperfect, forgiven, and sent.