How are we to understand these words of the risen Lord? Are those who saw with their own eyes the One raised from the dead not more blessed—those in whose lives this turning point clearly and irrevocably occurred, and who gained the irrefutable awareness that death had been conquered by the life of Jesus? And finally, why did the “other disciple,” whom we can easily recognize as Jesus' beloved disciple, not enter the tomb at first, having seen only a “hint” of the unexpected victory—the cloth that had covered His head? What would our faith be without the Gospel accounts of the Resurrection, and what would Thomas's faith have been without his encounter with the risen Jesus? By setting these difficult questions before ourselves, we can try to grasp the essence of our relationship with the Risen One: the question of how experiential knowledge, the testimony of the Gospel, and faith as an incomprehensible contact with the One who conquered death relate to one another.

When reading the accounts of the Resurrection, it becomes clear that despite everything Jesus had told them during His earthly ministry, the apostles were completely unprepared to meet the Risen One. It is no accident that John mentions the burial garments, the “linen wrappings,” which first made the apostles wonder whether something unusual was happening (vv. 1–9). Indeed, according to Jewish custom, the body was wrapped in a shroud so tightly that it was practically impossible to unwrap it without damaging the cloth. Yet the apostles saw this shroud not only intact but apparently even undisturbed, so that the cloth usually tied around the dead person's head, the “face cloth” of v. 7, remained lying separately, apparently in the place where the Saviour's head had been before the Resurrection. What had happened could not be explained otherwise than as a miracle. But the apostles apparently still had no very clear idea of exactly what had occurred.

Mary Magdalene did, of course, see the risen Jesus while still in the garden and immediately reported it to the apostles (vv. 11–18), but her testimony was probably not enough for them. The real encounter took place that same evening (vv. 19–23), and then the apostles were finally able to convince themselves that their Teacher was truly alive. It is no accident that Jesus allows them to look at His hands, feet and ribs (v. 20). The marks of the wounds were to convince the apostles that what stood before them was not a ghost, not a shade that had emerged from the tomb, as they might have thought after hearing from Mary Magdalene that the Risen One had not allowed her to touch Him (v. 17). This was extremely important, for the matter concerned not only the Person of the Risen One, but also the nature of the Kingdom. If it differed in no way from the world of shades and spirits, its influence on the world would be no stronger than theirs. Shades and spirits may sometimes make their presence known, but they are unable to exert a serious influence on the existing order of things, much less to change it radically, as the world is changed when it becomes part of the Kingdom.

But despite all its objectivity and tangible reality, the Kingdom apparently differs substantially in some respects from our world, which has not yet been transformed. It is no accident that the Lord still places Thomas's desire to feel Jesus' wounds with his own hands below trust in testimony (vv. 24–29). For what matters most in the Kingdom is determined by trust: trust in God, trust in Jesus, trust in one another. Trust is the foundation of everything. Without it there is no Kingdom. And it cannot depend on whether one can touch with one's hands what one believes in or the person one trusts. Not because this is forbidden, but because what matters most in the Kingdom cannot be touched with the hands. It can be touched only with the heart. Everyone who wants to live the life of the Kingdom must be ready for this.

Today's reading from the Letter of the holy apostle Peter is at once a prayer of praise and a sermon. Because Peter begins his letter with prayer, this prayer becomes communal, for the addressees, reading it, also pray together with the apostle. The apostle Peter glorifies the Lord, who has given us a special inheritance: the inheritance of salvation. The remarkable feature of this inheritance is that all of us can make use of it already on earth, for we all receive the grace of God, and at the same time, although we are free to renounce it, we cannot accidentally lose it or squander it, for it is kept for us in heaven!

The apostle calls us to rejoice. One can, of course, snort and say: "It is easy for you to rejoice if you grieve 'a little'! But I grieve a lot, so I have no time for joy." Yet the sufferings that Peter and all believers endured in those times were clearly no less than ours, for Christians were persecuted almost everywhere, and the living conditions of many of them were far from comfortable. Peter says that we grieve "a little" only in comparison with the joy that awaits us in heaven and has already been given to us here, in communion with the Living Lord. This joy, "inexpressible and full of glory," is greater than any suffering of ours.