Second Sunday of Easter Year C
In today’s Gospel,
we have one of the most famous, as perhaps most poignant, of all the accounts
of the resurrection appearances of Jesus Christ. It has been a week since Mary
Magdalene and the disciples encountered the unsolved mystery of the empty tomb.
Today’s passage provides a sequel and an answer to the post resurrection story.
The first part is situated in the evening of the Day of the Resurrection
whereas the second part, which happens a week later, provides the conclusion to
the story. Jesus appears at the first evening, but Thomas shows up a little
late. He is not among the Apostles when Jesus reveals Himself. When his friends
report to him of their sighting of the resurrected Lord, Thomas does not
believe and he sets a test, “Unless I see the holes that the nails made in his
hands and can put my finger into the holes they made, and unless I can put my
hand into his side, I refuse to believe.” Faith is subjected to the
litmus test of empirical proof. A week later, the risen Christ again surprises
the disciples. This time Thomas is there, and Jesus obliges his doubts. “Put
your finger here,” says Jesus. There’s no indication Thomas lifted a finger;
rather the sight of Jesus’ wounds seems sufficient to bring Thomas to his knees
in an act of recognition and adoration.
Many call Thomas
the doubting Thomas. But this may seem to be an unfair judgment that singles
him out for criticism. To be honest, all of the Apostles doubted, all of them ran
away and abandoned Jesus, and all gave in to fear and despair. All of them initially
thought that they were encountering a ghost or a disembodied soul. But Thomas
went beyond what the others were prepared to do. He went beyond insisting that
he wanted to see and touch Jesus in the flesh. He insisted on seeing the wounds
and touching them. Not the unscarred and unmarked flesh of his Master, but the
very parts of his Master’s severely tortured body that would have caused others
to avert their vision. In one sense, by touching the wounds of Jesus, he begins
to understand that the risen Jesus is not a ghost, but that he is truly real. But
I suspect that there is something more profound in his demand. By encountering
the wounds of Jesus, he is able to encounter the authentic Jesus, the real
Jesus, the whole deal, warts, blemishes, scars et al. Because he is able to encounter the Jesus that
shed his blood on the Cross, he falls to the ground and pronounces a profound
act of faith. Thomas is able to encounter Jesus in all of his humanity and all
of his divinity.
One necessarily
should juxtapose this scene with that of another - the vision of St John in the
Book of the Apocalypse (5:6, 11-12), where the seer describes the scene of the
Lamb that had been “slain” surrounded by thousands of angels singing its
praises. I find it infinitely comforting that the wounded one is the object of
heaven’s praise. There, before the great throne in glory stands the
slaughtered Lamb. Even in the glory of God’s presence, the wounds are visible.
In fact the wounds elicit the thunderous praise of the heavenly hosts. There is
something wonderfully beautiful and of a mystery about Christ's risen body. His
wounds are his badge of glory. His wounds are trophies of his victory. But
significantly for us, in Jesus’ wounds, the wounds of human life are never far
from the heart of God. He brings the wounds of humanity into the presence of
the Almighty and transfigures them forever. In a way, we need no longer be
ashamed of our wounds, some are readily visible while others remain hidden. Our
Lord’s wounds assures us that our wounds and scars are never hidden from God’s
vision.
But the wounds of
Christ can also be a cause of scandal. It raises serious doubts that cannot be
easily explained away. The wounds of Christ reminds us of the wounds that we
see in the Body of Christ, the Church. The Church suffers from many visible
wounds, caused by persecution on the one hand but also by sin. In the case of sin,
the most painful and insidious wound must certainly be of division among its
members, which can often prove devastating and scandalising, a cause for
disillusionment. But there is hope. As
Christ appears after His resurrection, wearing His wounds like trophies, we
come to discover the truth that though we may be wounded by much that happens
in life, we need not be broken beyond redemption. Likewise, the Body of Christ
wracked by division and splits, conflicts between individuals and groups,
ambition and competition, the sinfulness of its members, can experience healing
and restoration. The necessary path forward is forgiveness. A forgiveness
wrought by Christ Himself and not by man.
Our Holy Father,
Pope Francis, constantly reminds us as did the Church Fathers that the Church
is like a hospital, full of wounded and sick people. The sickness is sin
whereas the medicine forgiveness. Ironically, one of the most serious sins is a
lack of forgiveness, the rejection of the medicine that would be its antidote
and cure. We often forget that no Christian is perfect, not even the clergy.
When all these imperfect people get together, disagreements, hurt feelings and
misunderstandings are inevitable. As much as we find this discomforting, we
need to remember that this is the authentic Church, the real Church, the whole deal,
warts, blemishes, scars et al. It is a Holy Church, certainly, because Christ
has redeemed Her by His Sacrifice on the Cross. But it remains a wounded Church
because of the infidelity of Her members.
If we can accept a
scarred and wounded man as Saviour and Lord, can we not expect the same from
the Church, His Mystical Body? If we are only capable of accepting a perfect
unblemished Church with perfect members, are we also rejecting the Risen Lord
who appeared with His wounds? If we can
recognise the intimate connexion between the Bridegroom and His Bride, Christ
and His Body, the Church, then we would also be able to recognise the true
nature of the gift of Jesus to His Apostles. He offers them and through them,
the Church, the gift of the Holy Spirit and the grace of forgiveness,
recognising that both are necessary in a Church that continues to be wounded by
the sins of her members. This understanding will help us see each other in a
new light. No longer would we be repelled by the ugliness of the wounds of the
other, but recognise how the Wounded Lord is also present within them. No
longer would we turn away those who are sick and broken, but instead offer them
healing and the balm of forgiveness.
Wounds within the Body of Christ can only be healed through repentance and humility. Repentance requires us to humbly and honestly acknowledge our roles in the wounding of the Body of Christ. Unless there is such recognition, no true healing can take place. Wounds will fester and eventually become gangrenous and life-threatening. The causes of divisions in the Church are many, but ultimately the main reason is that we have taken our focus off Our Lord Jesus Christ. No wonder every hurt or injury often appears to be personal. It is because it’s hard to be thinking about how Christ or the Church is hurting when I’m busy thinking it’s all about “ME”!
This is why our
faith in the resurrection must never waver. The resurrection reminds us that
the One who gets to write the ending is not just a failed hero, but the Risen,
Living and Victorious Lord. He will have the final word and not the
misunderstandings, pains and hurts that we experience in life. Though our
communities often appear to be on the verge of destruction and dissolution
through conflict and scandals, its integrity is secured as long as it remains
part of the Mystical Body of Christ. Our wounds do not signify the end of life
or happiness. In truth, they are living signs of what is to come, Eternal Life
and divine beatitude. I know that all of these is hard to believe especially
when we continue to encounter the brokenness of our communities. But the Lord reminds us again, “Blessed are
those who have not seen but have believed.” This is our Faith. We believe not
because we have seen. We choose to believe in order that we may see!