On Good Friday we published ‘The Golgotha Monologues’ four monologues written from the perspectives of people who would have been there on the very first Good Friday. But we know that after Good Friday comes Easter Sunday, after Jesus’ death comes his resurrection, and so, today we are publishing ‘The Resurrection Monologues’!
The fourth is from the perspective of Thomas.
It had been a week since Passover. We were still staying behind locked doors. There were all kinds of rumours and we couldn’t be sure what would happen next. And the others had me worried.
We’d all been through a lot. Two weeks previous it seemed like Jesus was going to overturn Roman rule, it was like he’d been taken off the leash – telling the authorities exactly what we thought of them.
Then - Judas! I can’t believe he set Jesus up like that -
It happened so fast, one minute we were celebrating Passover – God’s great deliverance of his people - and then within a few short hours our world fell apart. I thought I was ready to die for him, but we ran - and we left him to face the soldiers alone.
It was a mockery of a trial. They couldn’t wait to get rid of him.
Seeing Jesus flogged and nailed to that cross; hearing his cries, seeing his mother break down - we we’re devastated. I admit I couldn’t hang around, I went off by myself, to get my head straight.
And then the others started going crazy. First the women and then the guys. Even Peter, I hadn’t expected him to lose it. They said the tomb was empty - that they’d seen the Rabbi – but that was impossible, we all saw him die.
Part of me was tempted to believe it, but I told them – unless I saw with my own two eyes, I couldn’t accept it; it was too fantastic.
I’d seen him – I saw his body – lifeless and beaten. So, unless I saw the same nail marks, unless I put my hand into his side, where they’d pierced him, I couldn’t believe it.
They continued to try and convince me, but I wouldn’t have it. I was such as fool.
He came.
He stood there – in our locked room - and he looked straight at me. I was dumbfounded.
And then he had me place my hands on his scars – they were real – just where I saw them pierce him, just where the nails went in – but his flesh was now warm and very much alive.
What do you think I did?
I exclaimed, “My Lord and my God!” It was true – he wasn’t our Rabbi – he’d shown himself to be our God.
And he stayed. We spoke with him, peppering him with questions, and he ate with us, he fished with us. Those were the best days.
I’m not sure he wanted to go – but in the end he did; he went back to his Father.
So that leaves us to tell our story – to tell his story. And even though you didn’t get to see him, you can believe it – we are his first-hand witnesses:
Jesus of Nazareth, teacher, healer - the man who was sentenced to death and who died – he is the Son of God and his Father has raised him to life.
And because he lives, we can start a new forgiven life. Even fools like me. Believe me – it’s true.
