Thomas and the Wounded Jesus

Easter Sunday was so wonderful. I was feeling joy at seeing so many show up for the O'Dark Early Easter Vigil. We had a delightful breakfast and I had managed to do an honorable job of chanting Eucharistic Prayer D, a major hurdle for this priest. The wrong notes I hit at the Vigil got fixed for the prinicipal service, and so all was good and right and joyful in my head.

And then came Easter Monday morning.

Images of panic, police tape. A shooting in Louisville, KY, not far from the church where my mentor serves as the rector.

Later that night, a text message from a parishioner I knew from my days at St. John's Tallahassee. She told me to Google the name of a state legislator. And when I did, I saw the video of his tirade calling people who had come to testify before a Florida House Committee, "mutants of the earth" "demons" and "imps." I looked further to see who he was addresssing.

Trans and non-binary youth. And their parents. 

I went to bed that Easter Monday evening with so much sadness in my heart. God's dream revealed on Sunday had so quickly been marred and changed back into the nightmare.

And I thought about Thomas, who hadn't seen Jesus. And I found I could relate to him in yet another way. 

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I love St. Thomas!

It’s always tickled me that the congregation that took me in…and raised me up to become a priest was named for St. Thomas.

Everyone gets on him for having doubts. But I don’t know that he really “doubts” Jesus… as much as he has a lot of questions about the stories his fellow apostles are telling him about Jesus.

And why wouldn’t he?

I mean… let’s think about this for a second.

Thomas… just like the others… knew Jesus had been killed.

He knew his body was in a tomb.

And when Jesus shows up the first time… Thomas wasn’t in the room.

We don’t know where he was… we just know that he wasn’t in that locked Upper Room.

If this was you or me… wouldn’t we also think our friends were a bit delusional if they started telling us that they had seen someone we knew was dead and that this dead someone had mysteriously appeared in this locked room?

It had to be hard.

My guess is that many of us have had our own Thomas moments… those times when our faith in the unseen takes a gut punch and we’re wondering if the God of Love is for real.

I can certainly understand people who feel their faith gets tested almost on a daily basis.

Just this past Easter Monday morning… fresh off that high of celebrating the resurrection and Jesus’ victory over the grave… a man shot to death five of his former coworkers at a bank in downtown Louisville.

Only blocks away from that shooting… a college student gunned down one of his classmates on a community college campus.

And there was yet another shooting last night at a park in Louisville.

Later that same Easter Monday morning… a state legislator in Florida unleashed a verbal attack on teenagers and their parents who had come to testify before a House committee…

He called them demons, imps, and mutants. All in the name of Christ. All because they were different from him.

Not exactly the way of keeping that Easter joy alive.

It’s sad that as we celebrate Jesus’ resurrection… events in the world remind us that there are those who would rather see him buried once and for all.  

Such things can and do challenge our faith.

The Christians of the early church were living in times that were equally as turbulent and fraught as our own.

Just like us… the circumstances around them…were disturbing and unsettling.

The Roman Empire had obliterated their Temple… a grounding point for the Sadducees and others.  

And then there was the internal struggle with their fellow Jews as the people of God began to disagree about whether the Messiah had actually come or not.

These early Christians didn’t know if their group was going to survive the various pressures on them.  

Like us… they were living at a time of anxiety and uncertainty.

And so the story of Thomas… which only shows up in John’s Gospel… is a story about them…and their angst.

A story which still resonates in our world today.

It’s into this place of heightened fear that we see Jesus enter with a simple:

“Peace be with you.”

Peace be with you all you nervous, scared, anxious, concerned people who see all that brokenness and despair all around you!

Peace be with you… and receive the breath of the Holy Spirit.

That Spirit which will keep you going through these trying times.

That was great for those in the room… for those who were already present.

But Thomas wasn’t there.

He missed this moment. And now he hears all the others carrying on and having their hope renewed…and it seems all too weird and improbable.

So Jesus comes back.

Have we ever wondered that Jesus came back?

Maybe because he knew Thomas was wanting to believe but needed more empirical evidence.

Jesus wants to help Thomas with any of his unbelief.

He doesn’t dismiss Thomas for wanting to know if this resurrected Jesus is for real.

Instead, he meets him in his questioning space and invites Thomas to touch his hands…place his palm in his side.

“This is really me, Thomas!”

But Thomas doesn’t need to do it.

Having seen the risen Christ… with a body still bearing the scars inflicted by his executioners… Thomas simply exclaims, “My Lord and My God!”

Jesus showed up for Thomas…for the apostles… and for us with all his wounds visible.

This is Jesus’ way of saying to Thomas… and to us… “If you’re wounded, so am I. I know pain. I know disillusionment. I am with you in this struggle. Believe!”

The Jesus who appears in the Upper Room to all the disciples including Thomas is not a perfect Jesus.

He still has holes from the nails.

He still has a pierced side.

As the Reverend William Adams notes…the Jesus who comes back to us is a wounded Jesus.

This is a God who understands intimately the ways in which we humans hurt and destroy one another.

Whether we use weapons or words… God knows and has experienced what we’re going through.

And God keeps coming back to us…wounds and all…to meet us…greet us in peace… and offer us the gift of life built on Love.

Not romantic love.

The love that is that living hope that no matter what… the joy of Easter is not going to get locked up in a tomb.

This Love has a vision of a world where each of us can see that spark of the Holy Spirit in one another.

This is a Love that guides us into that truth that we are all the adopted children of God.

And that Love is the engine which drives us toward engaging in our community to move us away from the hatred, violence, and division that seem to be our constant companions.

St. Paul describes Love in his First Letter to the Corinthians.

He reminds us that Love “isn’t boastful, or arrogant, or rude. But bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things.” (1 Cor. 13:4b; 7). 

This the Love that shows up for Thomas…for the apostles and for us…wounds and all.

In the name of God… F/S/HS.