Faith, Doubt, and the Risk of Trust

More Than “Doubting Thomas”

Thomas is mostly remembered for that moment in John 20—his demand to see the risen Jesus, to touch the scars for himself. But that’s not the only time Thomas steps forward in the story. There’s another moment at the Last Supper that shows us something important about his faith, and maybe even about our own.

Thomas doesn’t show up often in the Gospels, but when he does, it counts. He’s there in chapter 11 when Jesus raises Lazarus. He’ll be there in chapter 20, face-to-face with the resurrected Christ. And here in the middle, at the table with Jesus and his friends, Thomas speaks up with a question that changes the conversation forever.

“We Don’t Know the Way”

At the end of John 13, Jesus begins talking about his death. Peter, ever brash, declares he’ll defend Jesus to the end. But Jesus tells him it won’t play out that way. Instead, he reassures his friends: “Don’t be troubled. You trust God—now trust me. I’m going away, but not forever. I will return for you. You know the way to where I’m going.”

For my money, what Jesus is saying is this: you’ve watched me, you’ve walked with me. You know my way in the world. The path forward is simply to continue in that same way of self-giving love that leads to life.

But Thomas interrupts: “Lord, we don’t know where you’re going. How can we possibly know the way?”

And it’s here that Jesus responds with one of the most memorable lines in all of Scripture: “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”

Thomas gives Jesus that moment. Without his question, we don’t get that answer.

What Was Thomas Really Doubting?

Think about it: when Thomas is beside Jesus in chapter 11, he’s ready to go. Ride or die. But here, when Jesus hints that he won’t be there in the same way, Thomas stumbles.

And so the question is: what exactly is Thomas doubting?

Is it Jesus himself?

Or is it—stay with me—his own ability to walk the way of Jesus without Jesus right beside him?

I think that’s where the real tension lies. Thomas believes in Jesus. He’s not so sure about himself.

Faith, Doubt, and the Risk of Relationship

This is why I think faith and doubt are not opposites. They’re twins.

If faith is just about believing the right ideas, then doubt is a threat. But if faith is about trusting yourself to someone—taking a risk because you trust them more than you trust yourself—then faith and doubt become inseparable.

Doubt isn’t the absence of faith. Doubt is the risk of faith. It’s the experience of stepping into something that hasn’t yet taken shape, but trusting that it could.

Every time you try something new, every time you take a risk to grow or to change, every time you believe tomorrow can be different than today, you feel a flicker of doubt. Not because you don’t believe—but because you believe enough to trust yourself to something that doesn’t yet exist.

Faith is just that—but scaled up to God’s imagination for you.

Learning to Trust the Way Forward

When Jesus says, “You know the way,” he means it.

He’s already shown us what divine love looks like in flesh and blood. He’s walked the path, embodied it, opened it. And now he looks at us and says: trust me when I tell you that you can walk it too.

That’s the invitation of faith. Not to eliminate doubt, but to step into it. Not to resolve every uncertainty, but to risk trusting what could be.

Because faith is not just about eternity. It’s about the texture of your life right now. Faith gives you purpose in your day. It teaches you to commit, to risk, to live as though tomorrow might hold something worth stepping into.

And in that sense, faithful people ought to be the most comfortable with doubt—the most practiced at risk-taking—because we’ve learned to trust ourselves into God’s possibility for us.

And that means every tomorrow carries with it a sacred possibility still waiting to unfold.