John 20 — My Lord and My God

Today’s Passage: John 20

The Sabbath silence breaks, and John gives us four scenes that are not four separate lessons but one confession being drawn out of a man: an empty tomb, a name spoken in a garden, a pair of wounded hands in a locked room, and at last Thomas, eight days later, on his knees. The whole Gospel has been climbing toward the sentence he finally says, My Lord and my God. We should neither shame his demand for evidence nor dress it up as a virtue, for the risen Christ simply meets it, and Thomas names Him. Article 4 is closed here, for He arose bodily, and Article 1 is closed here, for He is God. Read the chapter as that confession being drawn out.

As you read, hold this: My Lord and my God.

John 20:1–10 (BSB)

¹ Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance. ² So she came running to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved. “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb,” she said, “and we do not know where they have put Him!” ³ Then Peter and the other disciple set out for the tomb. ⁴ The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. ⁵ He bent down and looked in at the linen cloths lying there, but he did not go in. ⁶ Simon Peter arrived just after him. He entered the tomb and saw the linen cloths lying there. ⁷ The cloth that had been around Jesus’ head was rolled up, lying separate from the linen cloths. ⁸ Then the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went in. And he saw and believed. ⁹ For they still did not understand from the Scripture that Jesus had to rise from the dead. ¹⁰ Then the disciples returned to their homes.

The new creation begins while it was still dark. Mary comes not expecting resurrection but to grieve, and finds the stone gone. Her first conclusion is the natural one. They have taken the Lord. The morning opens in confusion and tears. Faith here is not instant. It is dawning, like the light.

The footrace is the touch of an eyewitness. The younger disciple outruns Peter but hesitates at the entrance. The impulsive Peter barges in. What they find is the quiet evidence: linen cloths lying there, the face cloth rolled up, lying separate. This is no robbery. The body has not been carried off. It has gone through the wrappings. The beloved disciple saw and believed: the first resurrection faith in the Gospel, born not from a vision of Jesus but from an empty place read rightly. John admits they still did not understand from the Scripture (v. 9). Their faith outran their theology. Sight of the grave clothes was enough to begin, and already Article 4 is on the table, for He arose bodily and the cloths are still lying there.

John 20:11–18 (BSB)

¹¹ But Mary stood outside the tomb weeping. And as she wept, she bent down to look into the tomb, ¹² and she saw two angels in white sitting where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and the other at the feet. ¹³ “Woman, why are you weeping?” they asked. “Because they have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I do not know where they have put Him.” ¹⁴ When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there. But she did not recognize that it was Jesus. ¹⁵ “Woman, why are you weeping?” Jesus asked. “Whom are you seeking?” Thinking He was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried Him off, tell me where you have put Him, and I will get Him.” ¹⁶ Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to Him in Hebrew, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”). ¹⁷ “Do not cling to Me,” Jesus said, “for I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go and tell My brothers, ‘I am ascending to My Father and your Father, to My God and your God.’” ¹⁸ Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them what He had said to her.

The men go home. Mary stays and weeps. Her love keeps her there when, as far as she knows, nothing is left but a missing body. The angels sit where He had lain, one at the head and the other at the feet, like the cherubim over the mercy seat. She is so consumed by the loss that angels barely register. Grief can stand in the doorway of glory and see only the empty place.

Then the risen Lord is standing there, and she does not know Him. He repeats the angels’ question and adds His own: “Whom are you seeking?” Supposing Him the gardener, she offers to carry the body herself. Then He speaks one word. “Mary.” The Shepherd calls His own sheep by name (10:3), and the sheep knows His voice. Recognition floods in. Rabbouni, my Teacher. It is not the seeing that opens her eyes. It is the hearing of her own name in His voice.

“Do not cling to Me” is not a rebuke of her affection. It is a redirection. She cannot hold Him as she held the old days. He is on His way to the Father, and a deeper presence is coming by the Spirit. Then the staggering words: “My Father and your Father… My God and your God.” Through the resurrection, His Father becomes theirs. He calls the disciples “My brothers.” And He entrusts the first proclamation to Mary. “I have seen the Lord!” In a world where a woman’s testimony was not accepted in court, the risen Christ makes a woman the first preacher of Easter. Her weeping has become witness. This is what the resurrection does. It is already drawing the confession that Thomas will complete.

John 20:19–23 (BSB)

¹⁹ It was the first day of the week, and that very evening, while the disciples were together with the doors locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them. “Peace be with you!” He said to them. ²⁰ After He had said this, He showed them His hands and His side. The disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. ²¹ Again Jesus said to them, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent Me, so also I am sending you.” ²² When He had said this, He breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. ²³ If you forgive anyone his sins, they are forgiven; if you withhold forgiveness from anyone, it is withheld.”

Evening of the same day. Locked doors, ruled by fear. And Jesus came and stood among them. No door opens. The risen body is real yet unbound. His first word to their fear is the word He had promised the night before He died (14:27). Then He shows them His hands and His side. The risen body still bears the wounds. The marks of the cross are carried into glory. The Lamb is forever the Lamb who was slain. This is no ghost and no vision. This is the crucified One, standing, speaking, showing the very wounds. They rejoiced when they saw the Lord, the joy He had foretold (16:20, 22).

Twice He says Peace, and on that peace He builds a commission: “As the Father has sent Me, so also I am sending you.” Then He breathed on them. The verb is the one the Greek Old Testament uses in Genesis 2:7, when the LORD breathed into Adam the breath of life. The first Adam received natural life from the breath of God. The Last Adam breathes the Spirit of new life into His new-creation people. The authority over sins is the church’s gospel ministry: as they proclaim Him, they announce forgiveness to all who believe and the withholding of it from all who refuse, a verdict they carry from their Lord, not a power they own.

John 20:24–29 (BSB)

²⁴ Now Thomas called Didymus, one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. ²⁵ So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!” But he replied, “Unless I see the nail marks in His hands, and put my finger where the nails have been, and put my hand into His side, I will never believe.” ²⁶ Eight days later, His disciples were once again inside with the doors locked, and Thomas was with them. Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” ²⁷ Then Jesus said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and look at My hands. Reach out your hand and put it into My side. Stop doubting and believe.” ²⁸ Thomas replied, “My Lord and my God!” ²⁹ Jesus said to him, “Because you have seen Me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

Thomas missed the meeting, and so he missed the joy. The others greet him with Mary’s testimony (“We have seen the Lord!”), and he will not have it secondhand. We are quick to scorn “doubting Thomas.” He asks for nothing the others were freely given: a sight of the risen Lord and His wounds. His error is not in wanting evidence. It is the closed fist: “I will never believe.” That is not a virtue. It is unbelief, named honestly. And the grace of the next scene is that Jesus does not leave him in it. The Lord comes back, eight days later, for the sake of one stubborn, grieving doubter.

A week passes. Again the locked doors. Again He came and stood among them. Again, Peace. Then He turns to Thomas and repeats the demand back to him, proof that the risen Lord had heard the words Thomas spoke when Jesus was not visibly present. He meets the doubter on the very terms the doubter set. The wounds are offered, freely, for the healing of unbelief. “Stop doubting and believe” means, literally, do not be unbelieving but believing. The same patient mercy that called Mary by name now reaches for Thomas’s faithless hand.

We are never told that Thomas actually touched the wounds. Confronted by the risen Christ who knew his every word, he needs no touch. He falls to the sentence the book was written to draw out. My Lord and my God (ὁ κύριός μου καὶ ὁ θεός μου) ho Kyrios mou kai ho Theos mou, pronounced ho KOO-ree-os moo kai ho the-OS moo. Strong's G2962, Lord, master; used of Yahweh. Thomas’s cry is the highest confession in the Fourth Gospel, and it lands where John has been driving since his first line: “the Word was God” (1:1). Kyrios means Lord and Master, and in the Greek Old Testament it stands in for the divine name, YHWH. Theos is God. Thomas does not merely acknowledge that Jesus is alive. He addresses the risen, wounded Christ as his sovereign Lord and his very God, and Jesus receives the worship rather than refusing it. The two possessive pronouns matter. Not the Lord and the God in the abstract. My Lord and my God. This house will not treat that sentence as an open question with two respectable sides, for Article 4 is closed: Jesus Christ is fully God and fully man. The Gospel that opened by declaring the Word to be God now closes its argument with a man on his knees confessing that same God present in the scarred and living body of Jesus. . Jesus receives the worship. He does not correct it. Then He turns His gaze toward the future, toward every reader of this Gospel: “blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” The wounds Thomas saw are described so that we who never see them may believe through the seeing of others. The beatitude is the door John holds open.

John 20:30–31 (BSB)

³⁰ Jesus performed many other signs in the presence of His disciples, which are not written in this book. ³¹ But these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in His name.

John lays his pen down and tells us why he ever picked it up. There were many other signs. He chose these so that you may believe, that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in His name. The content of the faith is the content of Thomas’s cry. The goal beyond the faith is life, the life of the risen One, given to all who will believe. The empty tomb, the spoken name, the wounded hands, the confession: all of it is aimed at one thing. That the reader, who has not seen, would say it too. My Lord and my God.