Hello my friends,

With it being the second week of Easter, I wanted to look at John 20:19-31 together. It is a passage the contains a lot of what we are experiencing today, both individually and communally. People are fearful, doubting, and suspicious of those in authority. All wondering what the future might hold. Into that fear, Jesus steps in and speaks peace. So, let's reflect together on pursuing that kind of peace in the midst of our fears.

Recommended Resources

-A Christian Field Guide to Christian Nationalism . I recently put together this brief resource in hopes to equip people to be able to better respond to questions about Christian Nationalism in their day to day life. By clicking the link above, you can download the ebook as a PDF. I hope you find it helpful.

​-Rediscovering an Evangelical Heritage: A Tradition And Trajectory Of Integrating Piety And Justice by Donald W. Dayton. I first discovered this book when I was studying church history in seminary in 2013. I was blown away by the contrast between early Evangelical Christians and what Evangelical Christianity is known for in our world at that time. That contrast has only grown ever since. This book from Dayton sheds light not only on the very recent history of Evangelical Christianity and its emphasis on social justice, but also the historical roots that led us to the kind of Evangelical Christianity we see today. I think you will find it a very insightful read.

​-The Structure of Hope. Given this week's theme, I wanted to share this article I wrote about a structured practice that I personally use to keep hope alive. I hope you find it helpful as well.

​-Caring in a Cruel World. Here is another article I wrote recently on the practice of caring in our world of rising authoritarianism. A lot of people responded saying this was helpful, so I thought I'd share it again here.

The Peace That Bears Wounds.

John 20:19-31

On the evening of that first day of the week, when the disciples were together, with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord. Again Jesus said, “Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” And with that he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone’s sins, their sins are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.”

Now Thomas (also known as Didymus), one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!” But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.”

A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though 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; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”

Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”

Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

Jesus performed many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.

Locked In Fear

There is a particular kind of fear that settles into the body when the world feels unstable. It is the kind of fear that makes you want to close the door, lock it twice, and wonder what tomorrow might bring. It is the kind of fear that whispers that maybe it is safer just hunker down, to stay hidden, and to wait for the storm to pass.

In John 20, we find the disciples living in that very place. The text tells us that it is evening on the first day of the week. The doors are locked. And they are gathered together “for fear.” The Greek word used here, phobos, carries more than anxiousness. It speaks of a deep, embodied fear. A fear shaped by real threats and real consequences. Their teacher has just been executed by the state. Some of their own friends and faith leaders demanded it. And they also know how power works. They know what happens to those associated with movements that challenge the status quo. They feel like they now have a target on their backs.

So they hide.

And it is into that locked, fearful space that Jesus comes. There is no mention of the door opening. No dramatic entrance. Just this quiet, profound reality: Jesus stands among them.

And the first words he speaks are not correction. Not disappointment. Not instruction. He speaks to the fearful huddled there, “Peace be with you.”

The word Jesus uses here, eirēnē, echoes the Hebrew shalom, a fullness of life, wholeness, and restoration. It is the kind of peace that does not deny the wounds of the world but speaks into them.

And then, remarkably, Jesus shows them his wounds. He does not hide them. He does not erase them. The marks of violence, of injustice, of empire; they are still there. Resurrection has not removed them; it has transformed them.

This matters because it tells us that the peace Jesus offers is not built on pretending everything is fine. It is a peace that knows suffering intimately. A peace that has passed through death itself and still stands. A peace that says, "look at my wounds, I will be with you in the midst of your wounds as well."

Sending Out

And then Jesus says something that is both comforting and deeply unsettling: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”

The disciples, who are hiding from power, are now being sent back into the world shaped by that very power. Not with swords. Not with the authority of the state, but with the same posture Jesus embodied: self-giving love.

He breathes on them and says, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” The word for “breath” here is enephysēsen, which is the same kind of language used in Genesis when God breathes life into humanity. This is profound new creation language. In a world marked by fear and violence, Jesus is forming a new kind of community, one animated not by domination, but by divine life.

And part of that life is this: the work of forgiveness. Not a cheap forgiveness that ignores harm. But a costly one that refuses to let cycles of violence define the future. A forgiveness rooted in truth, accountability, and the possibility of restoration.

Our World Today

This is where the passage presses into our own moment.

Because we, too, are living in a time where power is often cloaked in religious language. Where the name of Jesus is invoked to justify greed, violence, exclusion, and the exploitation of both people and creation. This is not new. In Jesus’ own time, there were leaders who aligned themselves with systems of power, who used God to maintain their position rather than to serve others.

The disciples knew this tension well. They had seen how religion could be co-opted. They had seen how easily truth could be bent in service of control. And Jesus does not tell them to ignore it. He sends them into it. Not to mirror it. Not to baptize it. But to bear witness to something entirely different.

A kingdom not built on fear, but on love.
A power not expressed through force, but through sacrifice.
A truth not enforced by coercion, but revealed in grace.

And then there is Thomas.

Often remembered only for his doubt, Thomas is more complex than that. Earlier in John’s Gospel, he is the one willing to go and die with Jesus. While the others are locked away, Thomas is absent. Perhaps still moving in the world, still wrestling, still trying to make sense of it all. When he hears the others’ testimony, he does not simply doubt Jesus, he questions what he has been told. He wants to see for himself. He wants something real.

And Jesus meets him there, too. A week later, in the same locked room, Jesus appears again. He speaks the same words of peace. And then he turns directly to Thomas, inviting him into the very evidence he asked for. There is no shame in Jesus’ voice. No rebuke meant to diminish him. Only invitation.

And before Thomas ever touches the wounds, something shifts. He responds with one of the most profound confessions in John's gospel: “My Lord and my God.”

In a world of competing claims about power, allegiance, and authority, Thomas names the truth. Not Caesar. Not empire. Not any earthly ruler. Jesus.

And Jesus responds with a gentle challenge: “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” This is not a dismissal of Thomas. It is an expansion of the invitation.

Because many will not see what Thomas saw. Many will live in the tension of uncertainty, in a world where God’s presence is not always obvious, where peace feels fragile, where fear is close at hand.

So where does that leave us?

Perhaps closer to this story than we realize.

We know what it is to feel afraid.
We know what it is to question.
We know what it is to look at the world and wonder, “Where is God in all of this?”

And the answer John offers is this:

Jesus still comes into locked rooms.
Jesus still speaks peace into fear.
Jesus still bears wounds that tell the truth about the world.
Jesus still sends people to embody a different way.

And maybe, in a time when so much feels uncertain, part of learning to trust that unseen peace is not about ignoring reality but about recognizing where resurrection life is already breaking through. In the people who love us. In communities that refuse to give in to fear. In acts of courage, justice, and compassion that quietly resist the logic of power by speaking the truth.

Perhaps, like Thomas, we are invited to name what we see and through it, come to trust what we cannot see. That even now, Christ is present. That even now, peace is being spoken. That even now, love is stronger than death. That even now, restoration is happening.

He is risen. And resurrection changes everything.

Prayer

Risen Jesus,
you who steps into our fears,
not waiting for our them to subside,
but meet us in the midst of them,

speak your peace to us again.

Where our hearts are anxious,
where our minds are overwhelmed,
where the world feels uncertain and heavy,
let your shalom settle deep within us.

Teach us to trust your presence
even when we cannot see you clearly.
Give us the courage to follow you
not into comfort, but into love.

In a world where your name is used
to justify harm and power,
help us to bear your name faithfully
with humility, with compassion, with truth.

Give us the wisdom to hold others accountable
without losing our own integrity.
Give us the strength to resist fear
without hardening our hearts.

And like Thomas,
meet us in our questions.
Hold our doubts with grace.
Lead us gently into deeper trust.

May we become people of resurrection
who carry your peace into fearful places,
who embody your love in a wounded world,
who trust that even now,
you are making all things new.

Amen.

Now I'd like to hear from you! Did you find this helpful? What thoughts came to your mind as you read? Feel free to respond to this email and share your thoughts with me. I look forward to reading them. A 30 Day Day Devotional: I wrote a daily devotional in hopes to provide a companion for people seeking to follow Jesus through the season of we are currently navigating together. You can find out more below: $20.00 Following Jesus In A World Obsessed With Empires: 30 Days of reclaiming the hope, compassion, and justice of Jesus. Today, our world can often feel overwhelmed by darkness, division, and despair. I created this 30-day devotional to... Read more Get it now! ​ Ways to support: If you'd like to support this project, you can do so through one-time-gift of any amount you feel is right. You can also subscribe through a $5/mo, $15/mo, or $25/mo. Several others have also asked for a recurring gift option that is different from the ones offered here, like this one. If you'd like me to set up a different option for you, please just send me an email with the word "support" in the subject line. As always, I really want to thank all of you for reading and for all the ways you support me and this project every single week. I'm thankful for the ways we are building this together and hope it creates a lasting, positive change in our world along the way! I sincerely appreciate you all, Ben Remember, you can now view this and all previous newsletters as well as invite friends to join through this link: https://benjamin-cremer.ck.page/profile.

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