2nd Sunday of Easter – Year C: Thomas’s Easter

Thomas’s Easter

“My Lord and my God!”
John 20:19–31

Today, the second Sunday of Easter, we celebrate… the “Easter of Saint Thomas”, the apostle who was absent from the apostolic community last Sunday! This Sunday is also called “Divine Mercy Sunday”, since 30 April 2011, the day of Sister Faustina’s canonisation by Pope John Paul II. As we praise the Lord for his mercy, we also give special thanks for the gift of Pope Francis, who has made mercy one of the “leitmotifs” of his pontificate.

The Gospel presents us with many themes: Sunday (“the first day of the week”); the Peace of the Risen One and the joy of the apostles; the “Pentecost” and the apostles’ Mission (according to the Gospel of John); the gift and task given to the apostles of forgiving sins (the reason we celebrate “Divine Mercy Sunday” today); the theme of community (from which Thomas had been absent!); but above all, the theme of faith! I will focus on the figure of Thomas.

Thomas, our twin

His name means “double” or “twin”. Thomas holds an important place among the apostles: perhaps this is why the Acts and Gospel of Thomas were attributed to him, apocryphal texts from the 4th century, “important for the study of Christian origins” (Benedict XVI, 27.09.2006).

We would like to know of whom Thomas is the twin. It might be Nathanael (Bartholomew). In fact, this final profession of faith by Thomas mirrors the first made by Nathanael at the beginning of John’s Gospel (1:45–51). Moreover, their character and behaviour are strikingly similar. Finally, the two names appear relatively close in the list of the Twelve (see Matthew 10:3; Acts 1:13; and also John 21:2).

This mystery gives room to say that Thomas is “the twin of each one of us” (Don Tonino Bello). Thomas comforts us in our struggles as believers. In him, we see ourselves and, through his eyes and hands, we too “see” and “touch” the body of the Risen One. A truly captivating interpretation!

Thomas, a “double”?

In the Bible, the most famous pair of twins is Esau and Jacob (Genesis 25:24–28), eternal antagonists, expressing the dichotomy and polarity of the human condition. Could it be that Thomas (the “double”!) bears within himself the conflict of this duality? At times capable of great acts of generosity and courage, and at other times, he appears unbelieving and stubborn. Yet, when confronted with the Master, his deepest identity as a believer who proclaims faith with readiness and conviction re-emerges.

Thomas carries his “twin” within him. The apocryphal Gospel of Thomas underlines this duplicity: “You were one, but you have become two” (n. 11); “Jesus said: When you make the two into one, then you will become sons of Adam” (n. 105). Thomas is an image of all of us. We too carry that “twin” within—rigid and stubborn in defending his ideas, obstinate and temperamental in his ways.
These two realities or “creatures” (the old and the new Adam) struggle to coexist, often in open conflict within our hearts. Who has not experienced the pain of this inner division?

Thomas, however, has the courage to confront this reality. He allows his dark, unbelieving side to emerge, and he brings it to Jesus. He accepts the challenge thrown up by his “rebellious” inner self that demands to see and touch… He brings it to Jesus and, faced with the evidence, the “miracle” happens. The two “Thomases” become one and proclaim the same faith: “My Lord and my God!”

Sadly, this is not often the case with us. Our Christian communities are almost exclusively populated by “good” and compliant twins—yet they are also… passive and dull! The truth is, they are not fully present. The energetic, instinctive part—the other twin, the one in need of evangelisation—does not show up to the “meeting” with Christ.

Jesus said he came for sinners, but our churches are frequented by the “righteous” who… feel no need to convert! The one who should convert, the “sinner” twin, is left at home. It’s Sunday—he takes the opportunity to “rest” and leaves the day to the “good twin”. Come Monday, the twin of instincts and passions is back in charge, full of energy.

Jesus in search of Thomas

If only Jesus had many Thomases! In the Sunday celebration, it is above all they whom the Lord seeks… Perhaps they are his “twins”! God seeks real men and women, who relate to him as they are: sinners who suffer in their flesh the tyranny of instinct. Believers who are not ashamed to show their unbelieving and grace-resistant side. Who do not come to make a good impression in the “assembly of believers”, but to encounter the Doctor of Divine Mercy and be healed. It is such as these that Jesus makes his brothers!

The world needs the witness of honest believers, capable of recognising their errors, doubts and difficulties, and who do not hide their “duplicity” behind a pharisaic mask of “respectability”. The mission truly needs disciples who are authentic people—not “stiff-necked”! Christians who face the reality of suffering head-on and touch with their hands the wounds of today’s crucified ones!...

Thomas invites us to reconcile our duality in order to celebrate Easter!
Word of Jesus, according to the Gospel of Thomas (n. 22 and 27): “When you make the two one, and when you make the inside like the outside and the outside like the inside, and the above like the below, and when you make the male and the female into a single one (…) then you will enter the Kingdom!”

Fr. Manuel João Pereira Correia, mccj

Gospel reflection
John 20: 19-31
Pope Francis

In today’s Gospel, we hear, over and over, the word “see”.  The disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord (Jn 20:20).  They tell Thomas: “We have seen the Lord” (v. 25).  But the Gospel does not describe how they saw him; it does not describe the risen Jesus.  It simply mentions one detail: “He showed them his hands and his side” (v. 20).  It is as if the Gospel wants to tell us that that is how the disciples recognized Jesus: through his wounds.  The same thing happened to Thomas.  He too wanted to see “the mark of the nails in his hands” (v. 25), and after seeing, he believed (v. 27).

Despite his lack of faith, we should be grateful to Thomas, because he was not content to hear from others that Jesus was alive, or merely to see him in the flesh.  He wanted to see inside, to touch with his hand the Lord’s wounds, the signs of his love.  The Gospel calls Thomas Didymus (v. 24), meaning the Twin, and in this he is truly our twin brother.  Because for us too, it isn’t enough to know that God exists.  A God who is risen but remains distant does not fill our lives; an aloof God does not attract us, however just and holy he may be.  No, we too need to “see God”, to touch him with our hands and to know that he is risen, and risen for us.

How can we see him?  Like the disciples: through his wounds.  Gazing upon those wounds, the disciples understood the depth of his love.  They understood that he had forgiven them, even though some had denied him and abandoned him. To enter into Jesus’ wounds is to contemplate the boundless love flowing from his heart. This is the way. It is to realize that his heart beats for me, for you, for each one of us.  Dear brothers and sisters, we can consider ourselves Christians, call ourselves Christians and speak about the many beautiful values of faith, but, like the disciples, we need to see Jesus by touching his love.  Only thus can we go to the heart of the faith and, like the disciples, find peace and joy (cf. vv. 19-20) beyond all doubt.

Thomas, after seeing the Lord’s wounds, cried out: “My Lord and my God!” (v. 28).  I would like to reflect on the adjective that Thomas repeats: my.  It is a possessive adjective.  When we think about it, it might seem inappropriate to use it of God.  How can God be mine?  How can I make the Almighty mine?  The truth is, by saying my, we do not profane God, but honour his mercy.  Because God wished to “become ours”.  As in a love story, we tell him: “You became man for me, you died and rose for me and thus you are not only God; you are my God, you are my life.  In you I have found the love that I was looking for, and much more than I could ever have imagined”.

God takes no offence at being “ours”, because love demands confidence, mercy demands trust.  At the very beginning of the Ten Commandments, God said: “I am the Lord your God” (Ex 20:2), and reaffirmed: “I, the Lord your God am a jealous God” (v. 5).  Here we see how God presents himself as a jealous lover who calls himself your God.  From the depths of Thomas’s heart comes the reply: “My Lord and my God!”  As today we enter, through Christ’s wounds, into the mystery of God, we come to realize that mercy is not simply one of his qualities among others, but the very beating of his heart.  Then, like Thomas, we no longer live as disciples, uncertain, devout but wavering.  We too fall in love with the Lord!  We must not be afraid of these words: to fall in lovewith the Lord.

How can we savour this love?  How can we touch today with our hand the mercy of Jesus?  Again, the Gospel offers a clue, when it stresses that the very evening of Easter (cf. v. 19), soon after rising from the dead, Jesus begins by granting the Spirit for the forgiveness of sins.  To experience love, we need to begin there: to let ourselves be forgiven.  To let ourselves be forgiven.  I ask myself, and each one of you: do I allow myself to be forgiven?  To experience that love, we need to begin there.  Do I allow myself to be forgiven?  “But, Father, going to confession may seem difficult…”.  Before God we are tempted to do what the disciples did in the Gospel: to barricade ourselves behind closed doors.  They did it out of fear, yet we too can be afraid, ashamed to open our hearts and confess our sins.  May the Lord grant us the grace to understand shame, to see it not as a closed door, but as the first step towards an encounter.  When we feel ashamed, we should be grateful: this means that we do not accept evil, and that is good.  Shame is a secret invitation of the soul that needs the Lord to overcome evil.  The tragedy is when we are no longer ashamed of anything.  Let us not be afraid to experience shame!  Let us pass from shame to forgiveness!  Do not be afraid to be ashamed!  Do not be afraid.

But there is still one door that remains closed before the Lord’s forgiveness, the door of resignation.  Resignation is always a closed door.  The disciples experienced it at Easter, when they recognized with disappointment how everything appeared to go back to what it had been before.  They were still in Jerusalem, disheartened; the “Jesus chapter” of their lives seemed finished, and after having spent so much time with him, nothing had changed, they were resigned.  We too might think: “I’ve been a Christian for all this time, but nothing has changed in me; I keep committing the same sins”.  Then, in discouragement, we give up on mercy.  But the Lord challenges us: “Don’t you believe that my mercy is greater than your misery?  Are you a backslider?  Then be a backslider in asking for mercy, and we will see who comes out on top”.

In any event, – and anyone who is familiar with the sacrament of Reconciliation knows this – it isn’t true that everything remains the way it was.  Every time we are forgiven, we are reassured and encouraged, because each time we experience more love, and more embraced by the Father.  And when we fall again, precisely because we are loved, we experience even greater sorrow – a beneficial sorrow that slowly detaches us from sin. Then we discover that the power of life is to receive God’s forgiveness and to go forward from forgiveness to forgiveness.  This is how life goes:  from shame to shame, from forgiveness to forgiveness.  This is the Christian life.

After the shame and resignation, there is another closed door.  Sometimes it is even ironclad: our sin, the same sin.  When I commit a grave sin, if I, in all honesty, do not want to forgive myself, why should God forgive me?  This door, however, is only closed on one side, our own; but for God, no door is ever completely closed.  As the Gospel tells us, he loves to enter precisely, as we heard, “through closed doors”, when every entrance seems barred.  There God works his wonders.  He never chooses to abandon us; we are the ones who keep him out.  But when we make our confession, something unheard-of happens: we discover that the very sin that kept us apart from the Lord becomes the place where we encounter him.  There the God who is wounded by love comes to meet our wounds.  He makes our wretched wounds like his own glorious wounds.  There is a transformation: my wretched wounds resemble his glorious wounds.  Because he is mercy and works wonders in our wretchedness.  Let us today, like Thomas, implore the grace to acknowledge our God: to find in his forgiveness our joy, and to find in his mercy our hope.