24 But Thomas (who was called the Twin[a]), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. 25 So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”26 A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” 27 Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” 28 Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” 29 Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
John 20: 24-29 (NRSVue)
The presentation of Thomas in John 20:24-29 has long occupied a central place in Christian thought. It is often interpreted as a story of faith over doubt and belief over questioning. Many sermons and reflections portray Thomas as the classic skeptic who demands empirical proof before believing that Jesus is risen. Yet, this interpretation misses the emotional and psychological dimensions of the story. What if Thomas’s words and actions were not primarily about doubt but about disconnection and emotional rupture?
I approach the passage with the lens of self-psychology from my experience as a pastoral psychotherapist, which means that I bring my two areas of professional training—pastoral work and psychotherapy—into conversation with each other. With attention to trauma-informed care, I’d like to paint a different picture—one in which Thomas longs for connection, assurance, and presence, and Jesus meets Thomas’ needs by generating authentic connection.
At the same time, this approach invites us to consider trauma as not only an individual or internal rupture but also as a profoundly social and political experience. Thomas’ story—marked by absence, exclusion, and longing to belong—mirrors the broader experiences of those marginalized, silenced, and left out of collective moments of healing and meaning-making.
Self-psychology, a concept propounded by Heinz Kohut, is a psychotherapeutic approach in which empathy as a way of understanding the client’s internal world. In this framework, empathy helps the therapist develop non-judgmental listening and become a reliable selfobject—someone who temporarily fills the psychological function the client lacks. Self-psychology focuses on helping clients process developmental disruptions by offering empathic understanding, thereby enabling them to internalize healthier self-functions. In self-psychology, the three significant dimensions are mirroring (where the therapist functions as a selfobject where the client feels seen, validated, and affirmed), idealizing (where the client idealizes the therapist as a figure of strength and calm if that was missing in earlier caregivers), and twinship (the desire to feel similar or connected to the therapist or others which helps the client feel a sense of belonging and human connection).
The text opens by noting that Thomas “was not with them when Jesus came” (John 20:24). He misses the initial encounter that Jesus had with the rest of the disciples. The passage does not explain why he was not among the fold of disciples who locked themselves behind closed doors, but the text does inform us that the disciples were fearful and afraid (John 20:19). Emotionally shattered by grief, disoriented by the trauma of crucifixion, and disconnected from one another in their fear informs their fragmented selves, as individuals and as a community of disciples. Their relationship with one another, once bound by their shared mission and presence of Jesus, is now fractured by the weight of loss and uncertainty. It is in this setting of anxiety and fear that the resurrected Jesus appears, speaks words of peace, shows them his wounds, and breathes on them the Holy Spirit. This moment, which filled the disciples with comfort and healing, renewing their faith and restoring their hope from fear to joy, is the very moment that Thomas has missed.
Thomas misses this encounter as a fellow disciple. Thomas does not share in the moment of reassurance. When the others tell him, “We have seen the Lord” (John 20:25), their joy only emphasizes, for Thomas, what he has lost. He responds, saying, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe” (John 20:25). This response is not the voice of doubt but one of lament.
Self-psychology helps us see something more in Thomas’s words. While Thomas is not a client in a clinical setting but rather a literary character within the post-resurrection narrative, I approach his story heuristically, drawing from lived human experiences that resonate with the emotional texture of the text. Thomas’ lament emerges from emotional dislocation—a response that echoes the language of grief, isolation, and longing for connection familiar to many of us. A psychological reading of Thomas is not an attempt to clinically diagnose Thomas but rather it is an interpretive tool that allows to explore his inner life mirrored in the text—revealing real human struggles of yearning for connection, assurance, and healing. His absence from the collective encounter that others have had has left him outside the circle of healing. The problem, therefore, is not disbelief but disconnection.
Thomas’s question is less about proof and more about pain: “Why have I not been granted the joy of witnessing and experiencing the peace that others have received?” Thomas’s reaction is a human reaction that arises out of the pain of being excluded from a shared, transformative experience. This becomes clear when John 20:24-29 is read from the perspective of self-psychology.
Before describing this dynamic further, let me briefly return to self-psychology theory to note that Heinz Kohut emphasizes the centrality of “selfobject” relationships. Selfobject relationships are relationships with essential others who mirror, affirm, and stabilize our sense of self. Without these connections, especially in critical moments, the self becomes fragmented. This is what happens to Thomas. Thomas is not an isolated mind, but a relational being who requires emotional resonance with others to maintain psychological balance. In this moment of vulnerability, the presence or absence of empathic others has profound consequences. For Thomas, Jesus was his selfobject, which may be seen later in his Christological affirmation: “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:28).
One week later, Jesus appears again when Thomas is present (John 20:27). Now Thomas is also able to share the full experience of the risen Christ. He is able to hear what the other disciples heard from Jesus, as “Peace be with you.” Seeing and touching the wounds was not only spiritually significant but psychologically restorative for Thomas. Thomas’s words, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe,” (John 20:25) is not the voice of a stubborn skeptic but an honest expression of someone who has missed a healing moment. His demand to see and touch Jesus is not a demand for empirical evidence; it is a plea for reconnection. He longs for the same physical, emotional, and spiritual encounter that the others received. He wants to feel what they felt, to see what they saw, to be drawn back into the fold of discipleship.
Trauma studies have shown how individuals who are excluded from key moments of collective processing often experience ongoing disorientation. Such exclusion causes trauma. Survivors of such trauma, like Thomas in the story, without reintegration, are silenced or pushed to the margins. Such exclusion frequently causes a lingering sense of being left behind. The resultant wounds are not only physical or spiritual but also emotionally marked by a sense of invisibility and humiliation. Thomas embodies this very dynamic. He is not simply curious; he is hurting. His protest is not arrogance but an appeal to feel what others have felt and not wanting to be left behind. It is a plea for belonging.
This emotional rupture can be better understood when we remember that Thomas, earlier in John 11:16, is described as one who expresses his willingness to die with Jesus. In other words, Thomas is committed to the Jesus way. This makes his sense of being left behind in the crucial post-resurrection moment quite poignant. While the others have seen the Lord, he has not. Others have been told, “Peace be with you,” but Thomas has heard nothing. Others are offered restoration, but Thomas remains in grief and isolation.
One week after (John 20:26) Jesus first appears to the others, Jesus appears again, this time when Thomas is present. Importantly, here Jesus does not judge him. Jesus neither dismisses his need nor labels him as weak in faith. Jesus works with Thomas’s internal world and selfobject need to touch and see. Using this felt need, Jesus invites Thomas to touch, to see, and to experience what the others have: “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side” (John 20:27). In this way, Jesus honors Thomas’s need and mirrors his longing. This moment is less about convincing Thomas of the resurrection and more about restoring his sense of connection. Jesus acknowledges Thomas’s wound and offers healing, not just through proof but through presence.
This reading of Thomas’s story, for me, is a powerful reminder that faith is not a straight line from doubt to belief. It is a complex journey through relationship, rupture, and repair. From the perspective of self-psychology, Thomas represents not merely an individual struggling with uncertainty, but anyone who has experienced the pain of exclusion (a break in connection)—those pushed to the margins whose grief, longing for restoration, and questions have often been dismissed as weakness or unbelief. His so-called doubt is not the problem to be solved; it is the symptom of something deeper, a wound of exclusion that needs to be acknowledged.
Instead of reading Jesus’ response to Thomas as a rebuke, psychological reading helps us see Jesus as the one offering His wounded presence, not as proof, but as points of connection. It is a testament to the healing power of the presence of a wounded counselor, the necessity of empathic attunement, and the sacredness of being included. Through the empathic attunement, belief is not just restored, but is reborn through a relationship. What Thomas needed was not an argument but an encounter.
In our traumatizing global context, marked by war, displacement, casteism, racial violence, rising authoritarianism, and widespread alienation, experiences of social exclusion are not just of injustice but of trauma. Like Thomas, for many of us today, the deepest need is not for argument but for an encounter; not for certainty but presence. This act is both political and pastoral, modeling empathic attunement and radical inclusion. Reading Thomas from a psychotherapeutic perspective challenges us, as faith communities, to become places of healing, not by silencing doubt but by practising empathy and embracing the sacred work of being fully present with those who are left out.