In a college philosophy course the topic of the day was, “What distinguishes humans from animals?” The answer the class came up with was that humans are tool makers. Well that was before Jane Good all and subsequent researchers in animal behavior noted that animals are toolmakers too. I saw a documentary recently about a chimp trimming and then using a thin twig as a tool. He poked it down an anthill and withdrew it covered with ants, which he ate, then he repeated working with the twig for more — delicious — well at least for a chimp. That chimp certainly looked like a toolmaker to me. (http://www.janegoodall.org/chimpanzees/tool-use-hunting-other-discoveries)
Someone in the class said that the ability to laugh distinguished us from animals because we can see contrasts. There was a “New Yorker” magazine cover a while back that showed passengers on an airplane stuffing luggage into the overhead compartments. One passenger was stuffing a car into the compartment! See, we chuckle and a chimp just continues eating ants off its twig.
I’ll leave it to the philosophers to draw their conclusions about what distinguishes us humans. But, besides the ability to laugh at humor, I would add what marks us as humans is the vulnerability to be wounded and the ability to inflict wounds. Animals can hurt and scar one another, but we humans inflict and bear wounds — sometimes through our whole lives. We have a memory of happiness and joyful moments; but we can also trace through our memories the hurts inflicted on us and the ones we have put on others.
Physical violence has been done against us and words have been hurled at us like sharp edged stones. Often the hurtful words have been more painful and lasting than the physical hurts. At one time two people said, “I love you” to one another. A divorce lawyer told me about the intense and cruel words she heard the same two, once-loving people, hurl at each other in court.
Count the wounds and their various sources. For example, the world has taught us to compete against others — always striving to win in arguments, sports and at work. Vince Lombardi summed up, what some of us have learned, “Winning isn’t everything — it’s the only thing.” We have also been taught standards of beauty which influence impressionable minds. How many school mates or young friends have eating disorders in a frantic attempt to match the models they see in magazines and on television?
As humans we have in common the ability to laugh at a good joke. Laughter draws us together over pizza and beer. But our wounds can leave us hiding behind locked doors, afraid to let anyone into those painful places we don’t want others to see, or even look at ourselves. Yet, we can be united by our wounds, for we share the same tears.
The community in the gospel had its wounds. For a while they were on cloud nine, riding high. They were the people closest to an exciting preacher, healer and reformer. Maybe he was even the king of Israel! Finally, the Messiah! But then they saw the evil that defeated him, crushed their hopes, destroyed their dreams and left them wounded. There were other wounds as well: the memory of their betrayal of the one they said they would follow to their death. Promises made and broken.
There was one thing they remembered; something Jesus did and taught them to do. He formed a community around him and his vision. So, the wounded, hurting individuals pulled themselves together enough to come back into the community — a fearful locked-up community, but a community nevertheless. It was into this hurting, defeated and disillusioned community that Jesus came with his words of forgiveness and healing: “Shalom,” “Peace be with you.”
In the scriptures, when Jesus offers peace, it is not a casual greeting, not the common “Peace man,” of the 60’s. When Jesus bids peace, his word brings the reality it announces — forgiveness, healing, and restoration. His word does what it says. The key for the disciples was when he showed them his wounds. This story doesn’t have him asking for bread or fish. He is not convincing them he is alive by eating. His wounds convince them who he is.
God is with us all the way; not just to share a meal and have a friendly chat. God, like us, knows the death of loved ones, broken promises and failed projects. Jesus suffered wounds that everyone said had finished him off; wounds that were defeating — yet he triumphed over them. But from today’s narrative we are reminded that Jesus never forgot his wounds — nor does he forget ours.
Like the disciples we gather back in community today. We bring the hurting parts of our lives and our failures to live as the disciples Jesus has called us to be. But not only our wounds, we bring the hurting parts of those we love, our sick and struggling ones. We also gather conscious of the world’s suffering — think Syria, Ukraine, the Middle East, our poor, those violated by clergy, the victims of the anti-Jewish shootings in Kansas, the wounded who just gathered to commemerate last year’s Boston Marathon attack, etc.
It is comforting to know that Jesus shares our lot. But more than that, he breathes his Spirit into us. We pray together as his community today. We will place the gifts on the altar. They represent us, as we are now. We will invoke the Holy Spirit to come upon them, to transform them. But also we ask the Spirit to breathe healing and forgiveness in us and our wounded world. We ask forgiveness for all the wounds we have inflicted and ask for the ability, little by little, to let go and forgive others.
The Easter readings have similar beginnings, “on the first day of the week.” For example, next week Luke will tell us about the Emmaus disciples who were traveling on “the first day of the week.” The gospels usually aren’t that fussy about days and hours of the day. Stories frequently begin, “After that Jesus went to….” “Early in the morning Jesus entered the Temple.” Etc. We moderns want to ask, “What day of the week?” “What year? “At what hour?” If we are looking for that kind of precision in the stories we are almost always frustrated. It’s as if the gospel writer is saying, “That’s not the point.”
But these Easter readings, despite the fact that the details get confusing (Were there two angels or one at the tomb? Did Mary Magdalene go alone, or with two other women?) we are told, it was “the first day of the week.” Not just the day after the Sabbath, not just Sunday. But, it’s the “first day of the week.” The biblical writers haven’t just become less ambiguous about dates and decided to be more precise. They are alluding to the first day of creation when God created light. So, John tells us today that Jesus appeared, “On the evening of that first day of the week.” Now God’s light has pierced the darkness of the tomb, we need fear death’s finality no longer.
JOY AND PEACE
It was not easy for Christ’s disciples to express what they were going through those days following the resurrection. The evangelists have left for us all sorts of incidents and stories. The main point, however, is always the same: Jesus is alive and he is still among us. That’s the important thing. They have recovered Jesus and He is full of life.
The disciples have again gathered together with the one who had called them and the one they had left alone a little while ago. The women embrace the one who had defended their dignity and accepted them as friends. Peter weeps on seeing Him: he does not know really if he loves Him more than the others; he just knows that he loves Him. Mary of Magdala opens her heart to Him who had won her forever. The poor, the public women and the homeless feel close to Him again, as when He invited them to eat with Him.
From now one, life will be different from those days in Galilee. They will have to learn to life by faith. They will have to be filled by the Spirit. They will need to remember his words and recall all His gestures. But Jesus, the Lord, is with them for the rest of their lives.
All of them had one experience in common: a deep peace and boundless joy.
All the gospel writings, usually very sober when it comes to express sentiments, repeat time and time again the same thing: the risen Jesus has filled them with joy and peace. This experience is so evident that we can say, without any exaggeration, that it was this joy and peace that gave birth to the evangelizing energy of all those followers of Jesus.
Where can we find such joy in our Church nowadays? This church, in fact,
may appear tired, very serious, and, perhaps, with little humour or humility to recognize its own mistakes and limitations. Where can we find a Church without fears, obsessed with its own problems and trying to defend its dogmas rather than seek the welfare of its people?
How long can we go on explaining our doctrines with such tiring arguments, and overlooking the ever-new joy of our life with Christ? How can anyone be attracted to our Faith when, at times, many of us cannot show the joy that we claim to possess?
And if we do not live with the Risen one, who can fill our hearts, where can we find our joy? And, we lack that joy that He gives us, who will communicate the
Good News to those who doubt; who will teach the living Faith and bring hope to those who suffer?
SECOND-HAND FAITH
We tend to condemn Thomas for doubting the testimony of those who have seen the risen Christ. But there is another side to his unwillingness to take the word of others. He wanted to have a personal experience of the Risen Christ. He speaks for all of us who yearn for a first-hand experience of Christ as the basis of our faith.
Many cities across the globe are passing ordinances prohibiting cigarette smoking in public areas. Most airlines have greatly restricted o eliminated smoking on their flights, or in the airports. Why? Because of the growing evidence that even if you do not smoke yourself, continuous exposure to smoking by others can still be hazardous to your health. It is called “second-hand smoke.” This is the subject of the gospel reading today. Can those of us who were not present when Jesus appeared to the disciples still find a path to faith in the risen Christ today? And if so, how can this be?
For all of us who struggle with issues of faith, Thomas is our representative in scripture. The evening of Easter, Jesus appeared to his disciples when they were huddled together in an upper room. He showed them his hands and side, he comforted them: he spoke of peace to them. But Thomas was not with them. Later, when Thomas returned, the other disciples tried to convey to him everything they had seen and heard. That was not enough for Thomas. He was not ready to catch Easter faith second-hand! So Jesus appeared a second time with Thomas present, and…we know the story. He caught Faith first-hand.
But what help is that experience to us? We are still unable to report seeing Jesus after the resurrection. We may identify with Thomas’ questions and doubts before seeing Jesus, but we cannot identify with his experience with Jesus the first week after Easter.
Here we are, a week after Easter again, miles and years away separate us from Thomas, do they not? Look again at Thomas’s assertion. He said he could not believe based on the experience of others. He needed physical proof. “Seeing is believing.” But when Jesus appeared, Thomas did not actually touch and felt with his own hands. The words of Jesus were enough to believe. In truth, according to scripture, faith does not come by seeing, or by feeling. Faith comes from hearing. (Rom 10:17 )
So, twenty-first century people are not at a disadvantage to come to faith just because we cannot see or feel the Risen Christ. We can still hear the word of God. We can still hear the witness of the Church. And in that hearing, we can come to faith too.
But even having heard the good news of the resurrected Christ, we must still choose to believe. Thomas was not coerced into faith. Jesus did not threaten him. Jesus did not overpower his objection. Thomas fell at the feet of Jesus and proclaimed him “my Lord and my God.” He made it personal – MY Lord and MY God. He could have persisted in doubt. He could have demanded more proofs. He could have argued. He could have left the room. But he did none of those things. Thomas chose to believe. And all of us must do the same. When we hear the gospel story, it does not take our will away, it does not overpower us. The gospel simply invites us to faith, to make a choice to believe. And the choice makes all the difference in our lives. Seeing does not always end in believing. Proofs and arguments are not the path to faith. Faith comes by hearing, hearing the word of God. Are you listening?
A NEW BEGINNING
Frightened by Jesus’ execution, the disciples went into hiding in a safe house. They stayed together, but this time Jesus was not with them. Their community, for the first time, felt Jesus’ absence. It was such a sense of
emptiness. They could no longer listen to Jesus’ fiery words or witness the way he blessed the crowds that followed him everywhere. Where would they now go?
In Jerusalem must have been getting dark– as well as in their hearts. Nobody could be of any comfort to them. Little by little, all of them were overcome by fear and Jesus was not there to encourage them. The only thing they could do, “for fear of the Jews”, was to lock the doors of the room. They could not even think of going out to preach the kingdom of God and bring solace to those in need. Without Jesus, how could they preach the Good News?
John the Evangelist describes masterfully the transformation that took place in the disciples the moment Jesus, in his new life, makes himself present in their midst. The Risen one becomes again the centre of his community of followers. That should be the case for all of us forever. With
Jesus everything is possible: freedom from fear, doors open and going out to preach the Gospel.
According to the narrative, the first thing that Jesus brought to that community was his peace. They were not scolded for having abandoned Him, no complaint or reprimand. “Peace be with you,” He said, and they were overjoyed at seeing him. The disciples felt his creative encouragement. Everything started again. Inspired by his Spirit, they would take up the same project that Jesus had received from his Father and continue the work for centuries to come.
What the Church needs today is not religious reforms and a call to communion in faith and practice. We really need to experience a “new beginning” in our communities, starting with the living presence of Jesus in our midst. Jesus alone should be at the centre of our Church. Jesus alone can promote such communion. Jesus alone can renew our hearts.
New plans and new institutions are not enough. Only Jesus can start changes
in our horizon, remove our fears and doubts, create a new climate of peace and serenity that all of us need in order to open the doors and share the Good News with the rest of men and women of our times.
But we have to learn how to welcome his presence in our midst. When Jesus returned, after eight days, the evangelist says that the doors were shut. It was not Thomas alone that had to learn to believe in the Risen one. The other disciples, too, had to learn to dispel their doubts and fears that had kept them locked behind doors – instead of going out to preach the Good News.
STOOD AMONG THEM
St. John’s Gospel describes very precisely how Jesus’ disciples felt after he
had gone away from them. We could use those same expressions to describe some of our communities: it was getting dark and the doors were closed in the room where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews. They had no plans – because Jesus wasn’t there any longer.
Suddenly Jesus came and stood among them, and everything changed and they were filled with joy. They weren’t alone. Jesus had brought life, and confidence and they became a group once again. He seemed to have opened all doors and windows: “Peace be with you. He breathed on them: “Receive the Holy Spirit.’
The centre of every Christian community is not the Parish Priest, the Superior or the Abbot. It is Christ himself, in the heart of every single Christian:
He appears in the mutual love and service towards one another. It is these living signs of the Christ of the Last Supper that can transform our parishes, families and communities.
If we do not see and feel His presence among us, how can He fill our hearts,
bring back our joy and remove our fears? And, if Jesus’ joy isn’t within us, how can we communicate the “good news” to the people in a way that is new and understandable?
Christian faith means more than believing that Jesus Christ was raised from the dead after his crucifixion. It is when we ourselves have experienced God transforming darkness into light, despair into hope, sorrow into joy – that we ground our faith in the conviction that God is always bringing forth life out of death.
How is faith different from Easter? In what ways does the Easter event alter our faith or change its focus? Faith can mean many things. It can mean perseverance, as in “Keep the faith”, “Hang in there!” It can also mean optimism or positive thinking. It can simply mean trust or religious affiliation. So, what is the meaning of “Easter faith?”
If Easter refers to the resurrection of Jesus, Easter faith means believing in life after death – and much more. There are many non-Christians who believe in life after death.