a reflection for Easter 2
I have always loved the story of Thomas. How he had slipped out to get the groceries down at the market while the other disciples got to see the Risen Jesus. You know, the spices, herbs, veggies, fish and figs oh.. no roast lamb as it was still too expensive. No cheese either, as the monger was still waiting on a delivery from the neighbouring town of Cana. How the person in front of him in the 12 times or less aisle, clearly had more than 12 items in their trolley. Is it any wonder that Thomas was in a grumpy mood when he got home, gaves the secret door knock only to have this wild tale spun to him by his mates that the Master had appeared while he was gone.
Of course Thomas is going to say snootily
“Well Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nailmarks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” He might also have questioned what they had been smoking but there is no theological evidence to back up this precarious theological fantasy.
We, like Thomas, have questions and we have doubts and we have worries and the world might well seem to be going irreversibly awry. There are some who this year will be displaced and can never be the same again.
So the reason I like dear old Thomas is because it is precisely against a very dark backdrop, against the blackest background that our Lord comes to Thomas personally and says those exciting but simple words that we say at every Eucharist
“Peace be with you.”
And yes there are times when it doesn’t seem very peaceful. That there is disharmony and discord all around us, that there is rambunctiousness deep within us, in that special place where there really needs to be peace. We discover to our shame that we are wonky and grumpy. That we are not at peace with God, we are not at peace with our neighbour and surprise surprise, we are not at peace with ourselves.
That’s why I love Thomas. Because he is all of those things and more. He speaks to me so very clearly and closely. I align myself so easily, so quickly to him and he with me, that I could easily be the guy in the upper room weighed down with the weeks groceries and flustered by my fraught excursion, worries and disappointments. Still sad within, that such a lovely guy could have been stomped on by the Roman government in such a brutal and heartless way.
Yes it is easy, so very easy to be Thomas; to doubt and question when the answer isn’t directly in front of us.
We have questions, so many questions, we have doubts and worries because like Thomas we have been so busy scurrying about doing what we thought was important that we have missed the Master who was waiting for us all the time and He was always right before our eyes.
How many times have I failed to see him who was broken in the broken bread? How many times have I failed to see him who wept over Lazarus, when there were tears of another right before me or even my own tears?
How many times have I failed to see his forgiveness when I have been relentlessly forgiven?
He has always been there. He always was. He always will be. The answer is right before our eyes.
And it is beautiful that the post-Easter scriptures give us these narratives too. That we, thousands of years later, might see ourselves in another disciple, who even days after Jesus died had trouble believing and keeping the faith. It isn’t a weakness to doubt like Thomas. It’s not wrong or a sin. It is perfectly understandable and healthy.
The trick is to move on and say …where do I go from here? How can I transform my doubts and blunderings into something quite beautiful and lovely.
The questions are not. Where the hec have you been Jesus? Why have you not shown yourself to me? Where were you when the sky fell down upon me and I was so very flummoxed and flattened ?
The question becomes: “Where do I see and feel the love of God? How can I love as Jesus loved?
It is our vocation, yours and mine, to be the presence of the Risen Christ in our own lives, in our homes, in our parish, in our community.
And it must start from that deepest place within us. That place must be centred and grounded in the sure and concrete knowledge that Christ …is… risen.
We must hear Him speak to us as He spoke to the disciples. ‘Peace be with you’ must ring in our hearts, our ears and it must resonate in our lives.
I have always loved Thomas for he is me and I and him. We’re not told if Thomas accepted Jesus’s offer. Putting my finger in the palm is not altogether necessary, but it is crucial that I reach out my pierced hand to those who are also pierced and that is pretty much everyone who hears or reads these words.
The answer is right before our eyes. It always was. It always will be. Peace be with you.