Second Sunday of Easter (Divine Mercy) 2026

I am the oldest of seven children. I have five brothers. And even though none of us are twins, we do get mistaken for each other all the time—because we look alike, we sound alike, we even act alike.

I remember years ago, a friend called me and asked, “Are you moonlighting?”

I said, “What are you talking about?”

He said, “I’m pretty sure I just saw you driving a UPS truck delivering packages in my neighborhood.”

I started laughing—because at that time, my youngest brother John worked for UPS.

My friend had seen my brother… but he thought it was me.

He confused us.

In today’s Gospel, we hear about Thomas the Apostle—and we’re told something interesting about him.

He’s called Didymus—which means “the Twin.”

But here’s the thing: the Gospel never tells us who his twin is.

We don’t know if he actually had a twin brother or sister.

And maybe… that’s intentional.

Because maybe the real “twin” of Thomas… is us.

Think about Thomas for a moment.

He’s not a bad disciple.
He’s not an unbeliever.
He loves Jesus.

But he struggles.

When the other disciples say, “We have seen the Lord,” he says, “I want to believe—but I need to see. I need to touch. I need something real.”

And if we’re honest… that sounds a lot like us.

We believe—but sometimes we struggle.
We trust—but sometimes we question.
We want to be certain—but we don’t always feel it.

We weren’t there in the Upper Room.
We didn’t see the wounds.
We didn’t hear His voice with our own ears.

And yet—we’re asked to believe.

That’s why Thomas is our twin.

And here’s the beautiful part of the story.

Jesus doesn’t reject Thomas for his doubt.

He doesn’t say, “You should have believed the first time—too late.”

No.

A week later, Jesus comes back—for him.

He walks through those locked doors again.
He stands in their midst again.
He says, “Peace be with you” again.

And then He turns to Thomas.

“Put your finger here. See my hands. Bring your hand and put it into my side. Do not be unbelieving, but believe.”

That’s not condemnation.

That’s mercy.

And that’s why this Sunday is also Divine Mercy Sunday.

Because the Risen Jesus doesn’t just come for the strong in faith.

He comes for the struggling.
He comes for the doubting.
He comes for the ones who are trying—but not quite there yet.

He comes for people like Thomas.

He comes for people like us.

And Thomas responds with one of the most powerful professions of faith in all of Scripture:

“My Lord and my God.”

Not just, “I understand now.”
Not just, “Okay, I believe.”

“My Lord… and my God.”

It becomes personal.

So maybe today, the invitation is simple.

Stop seeing Thomas as “the doubter.”

Start seeing him as your twin.

Because his story is your story.

And the same Jesus who came back for him… comes back for you.

In the Eucharist.
In the Sacrament of Reconciliation.
In the quiet moments of your life.

He comes through the locked doors of our fear, our doubt, our uncertainty—and He stands in our midst and says:

“Peace be with you.”