Duccio's Believing Thomas

This is the Gospel traditionally read on this Sunday after Easter (John 20:19-31). It's the Sunday with all the names: Low Sunday (contrasted with last Sunday), Thomas Sunday, Second Sunday of Easter, Mercy Sunday. Again, we might think, "Oh I know that story!" But might we read it again during these troubling days. P.S. There are Muslims who can recite the entire Koran by heart.

When Duccio's Maesta Altarpiece was cut up, and its forty-six paintings sent all over the place, many of the paintings were further reduced, pieces sawed off top-bottom and sides. Why? Human stupidity? But this painting of Thomas meeting the Risen Jesus was spared the saw—hence the pointed ceiling. "Why can't we just leave well enough alone," the saying goes.

The painting is really titled The Incredulity of Thomas. The word incredulity means non-believing. Then we further misunderstand it  by coining the unfortunate phrase Doubting Thomas. I think that's very unfair and reflective of an immature spirituality. May I make three little suggestions.

One. May God preserve us all, but imagine even briefly, you learn of a dear one's death. You are deeply grieved. Perhaps you were even in attendance at the funeral. Then three days later you are told by reliable sources that the relative or friend has been seen alive and is well. Let's be honest—you're going to believe that ?!


Two. We are constantly asking for (or even demanding) signs from God. "Oh God, I don't know where to go, or what to say, or what to do—give me a sign." Isn't that what all these Catholics are hoping for as they wait on long lines to get into the medium's performance—they want signs.

Three. We give all our attention to Thomas' struggle with believing, while we miss the fact that he says the most important thing said to Jesus in the New Testament: "My Lord and my God." Can't do better than that.

Four. Someone might say, "Oh yeah, well what about Jesus' admonition: 'Thomas, you believe because you have seen me; blessed are those who have not seen, but have believed.'" God forbid that I should shake anyone's faith, but in New Testament 101, we'd learn that sometimes the early Church put words into the mouth of Jesus to encourage themselves. 

Maybe we could start a movement: Once and for all—let's be done with Doubting Thomas. He's believing Thomas! And surrounded as we are by all the bad-news, sad-news of late, may we pray to have faith such as this. My Lord and my God!

A Divine Mercy Homily

This is the Sunday with many names: Low Sunday, Thomas Sunday, Sunday in the Easter Octave, Sunday ending Bright Week. Pope John Paul II said we might also call the Sunday after Easter Divine Mercy Sunday. What is it about?

The Hebrew word Chesed refers to God's Mercy. Appearing dozens of times in the bible, Chesed declares that God is kind - lovingly kind. Some Christians think "God's Mercy" suggests God is a soft touch, preferring the blow up God who annihilates enemies. 

Having tried everything to win us back to himself, God turned to face us squarely, looking upon our world most tenderly and kindly through the human face of Jesus Christ. We see this especially in the Gospel of St. Mark, where Jesus often takes people by the hand, lifting them up from their sickness and frailty (Mark 1:31, 1:41, 5:41, 8:23, 9:27). In Christ, God, ever so kindly lifts up humanity out of our folly, stupidity and brashness.  

In today's Gospel, Thomas is absent  when the others meet the risen Jesus. Notice Jesus doesn't say, "Well, too bad for you Thomas, you missed it." But Jesus appears a second time when Thomas is present, and invites him to take a closer look. 

On Easter morning, discouraged Peter returned to his former life as a fisherman where Jesus met him on the beach for breakfast (John 21:12). It seems in Christ, God tailors himself to the needs of our inner world.

And we're supposed to learn from this: not only how God is with us, but how we might be with others. 

I received an email the other day from a young man who graduated high school about five years ago. After graduation he became down and out, repeatedly dropping  out of college and eventually losing his funding. He cheated death a number of times in bad living and found himself hungry and almost homeless. Landing a job in a sheet metal factory, he developed asthma from the chemicals.  

One Sunday he stumbled into an Eastern Orthodox church and stayed for the liturgy. Having professed atheism most of his adult life, the visit prompted him to start searching in Catholic churches and even Buddhist temples, while periodically returning to the Orthodox community. 

It was there that the parishioners rallied around him. Even though he knew they had problems of their own, these folks saw to it that he had food and a couple of bucks in his pocket. And when he took a job that required a daily commute, the priest's mother made him lunch and gave him money for the bus everyday.

So he was baptized last week at the Easter Liturgy. It wasn't dogma, great liturgy or a charismatic preacher that won him, but the kindness of the parishioners. 

Mercy, which is loving kindness, whether God's or ours, begins with noticing: Jesus noticing dejected Peter. Jesus noticing Thomas wasn't there. The parishioners noticing the young fellow's dilemma. 

Mercy begins with noticing.

Thomas Sunday

John Granville Gregory ~ The Incredulity of Thomas

Here is a contemporary depiction of Thomas and his friends examining the side-wound of the Risen Jesus. Wearing glasses and nice leather jackets, these young men are today. Jesus has a grip on the examining boy's wrist. Maybe he's saying: You can't be a sensation seeker (some religious folks are) and I won't let you go until you respond to me one way or the other. 

But poor Thomas, we're so unfair to him. We think we know or understand, our responses so simplistic and superficial, slapping on cliche-labels like: Doubting Thomas. Nothing more to say. Done deal. 

As if we'd do better than he. Thomas' friend was brutally killed on Friday and a few days later the other apostles said, "Some women of our company reported Jesus is alive." Mind you, in the ancient world a woman was never considered a credible witness. And so yes, Thomas has some trouble accepting this resurrection-news and asks for a sign.

But we constantly ask for signs and in situations not nearly as grave as the one Thomas is experiencing: Which job should I take?...give me a sign. Which boyfriend/girlfriend should I go with?...give me sign. Will I be successful in the future?...give me a sign. Are my relatives safe on the other side...give me a sign. Should I get married or should I be a nun?...give me a sign. Poor God, how we test him!

Maybe so many Christians are themselves so unbelieving of who Jesus is that they miss the fundamental faith-statement Thomas makes: My Lord and my God - and instead hone in on what we perceive to be lacking, "I won't believe unless..." Some people seem to imagine Thomas asks for the sign with a testy attitude.

Thomas wants to believe. He's full of goodwill and loves Jesus. And that's why Jesus gives him the sign of his visible wounds, unlike the Pharisees who really don't believe and don't like Jesus, to whom Jesus refuses a sign.

The wounds Thomas saw didn't cause him to believe. Thomas had faith in Jesus and touching the wounds of the Risen Christ released his powerful expression of faith. Questioning and struggling don't mean we reject belief or are spiritually defective. 

In a world such as ours today I would say, persisting in faith through the struggles and doubts pleases Jesus, who surely notices. So let's be done with this silly and unkind label we slap on Thomas and start a new trend, referring to him as Believing Thomas, and ask him for help from heaven in a very difficult world.