Eight Days Later

Chris Nye
5 min readApr 22, 2019

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“The Incredulity of Saint Thomas” (Caravaggio, 17th Century)

Recently a friend of mine proposed an idea to me that was a bit outlandish. Before he gave any details he said, “I don’t want an answer today; just tell me you’ll think about it for 24 hours.”

Has this ever happened to you? Have you ever used this trick?

It might not even be a trick — it might be one of the more generous things we can do for people when something surprising is put in front of us. When faced with a decision, we need time to contemplate. We probably need to, as we say, “sleep on it.”

Why? Are we not unconscious when we sleep? Why would being unconscious help us make a conscious decision?

And yet, from our experience so many of us can testify to making better decisions when given a span of time to think on it. Contemplation, reflection, and consideration are hidden but essential assets in the work decision-making.

I’ve been thinking about all of this because I recently read the climactic end to the story of Doubting Thomas in John 20. The story is famous: after the disciples come to Thomas saying “We have seen the Lord,” Thomas gives his well-known remark: he won’t believe until sees his wounds and even places his fingers on the scars (John 20:24–25).

We miss the next line, verse 26: “Eight days later, his disciples were inside again, and Thomas was with them.”

Eight days later.

This is a significant amount of time. I read that recently and began to wonder, What happened over those eight days? Thomas’ closest friends were obsessing over the news, certain they had seen Jesus (John 20:25). Others were skeptical, claiming the body was stolen (Matthew 28:13). Word around Jerusalem, we know, was ablaze with the news that a man who was dead is now alive (Luke 24:18). It is not an absurd suggestion to say that Thomas probably could not escape people talking about Jesus over those eight days.

Imagine: everywhere he goes, someone has an opinion on this. And Thomas, our favorite skeptic, remains silent as people loft their opinions and shout down their dissenters. The varying comments must of been dizzying…

“He is risen!”

“That is absolutely not possible…”

“His body was stolen!”

“I saw him alive from the dead with my own eyes.”

There, amidst the pundits as they lob dramatic phrases in the air of conversation, Thomas is still mulling it all over: “I need to see it to believe it.”

And then, “Eight days later…”

If a lot can change in our minds over 24 hours, then a lot can change in our minds over eight days. Or can it? We are in an age where changing our minds is a bit of a rarity. Stuck in our ways, jammed within our worldview, we’ve lost the ability to be surprised that we may, in fact, be wrong.

It’s my opinion that this is all that needed to happen with Thomas over those eight days. He didn’t need to completely change his mind in eight days; he just needed to be willing to change his mind. I think I know this because of what happens next in the story: “Although the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and see my hands…” (John 20:26–27).

Now let’s pause and clarify: there’s a traditional reading of this story that follows the famous Caravaggio painting (seen above): Jesus makes this offer, “Put your finger here…” Thomas puts his finger in the wound of Jesus — and he believes!

Is this what the text says? Thanks to Dave Lomas, I now see it does not. Caravaggio has led us to misread the story. Read it now, carefully:

27 Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.” 28 Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!”

— John 20:27–28

There is nowhere in the text that says Thomas actually placed his finger there. Instead, we read that Jesus walks through a locked door, gives Thomas the opportunity — the grace — to satisfy his skepticism…but it’s unneeded. It’s as if simply the offer was what moved Thomas.

Or, let’s look even more plainly at the story: not just the offer, but the appearance of Jesus. Simply the presence of Jesus appears and Thomas sees and believes. Can the presence of God dominate or rearrange our skepticism? My decade of pastoral work would tell me “yes.”

Sometimes all we need is to be mulling life over for a couple of days, start to be open to the possibility of being wrong, and allow ourselves to be surprised by God’s appearing.

“Surprised” is certainly the word for Thomas, who answered Jesus in the exclamatory: “My Lord and my God!” Surprise is a key element of spirituality. Nobody plans to become a Christian; it’s something that happens to you. Faith follows after the surprising, unplanned appearance of God.

As the Risen One, Jesus shows up to us today in a similar fashion. The clues are all around our “God bathed world,” as Dallas Willard puts it, and the historical evidence is sufficient. Suddenly, through various means, Jesus appears behind the locked doors of our minds as a surprise. Even when we desire to shut him out and stick to our guns, he appears. Nothing can stop the relentless pursuit of a God like Jesus, who opens his wounded hands to us and says, “Here.” Well, nothing except…us.

Our brains like to remain where they are, but our hearts like to be moved. Which is why the resurrection brings us Good News: despite the time that has passed since we’ve declared our skepticism — eight days or eighty years — and despite our fixed opinions about it all — whether inside locked doors or made-up minds—Jesus is constantly appearing. The presence of Jesus shocked Thomas thousands of years ago and can catch you off guard now. I guess my only question is, are you willing to be surprised?

Just tell me you’ll think about it for 24 hours.

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Chris Nye
Chris Nye

Written by Chris Nye

Living in Portland, Oregon with my wife and son. Doctoral candidate at Duke University. Author of a few books: chrisnye.co/books

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