2nd Sunday of Easter – Year B: Divine Mercy Sunday

The Easter of Thomas

“My Lord and my God!”
John 20:19-31

Today, the second Sunday of Easter, we celebrate… the “Easter of St. Thomas”, the apostle who was absent from the apostolic community last Sunday! The themes that the gospel proposes to us are many: Sunday (“the first day of the week”); the Peace of the Risen Lord and the joy of the apostles; the “Pentecost” and the Mission of the apostles (according to John’s gospel); the gift and the task entrusted to the apostles to forgive sins (for which, for some years now, we celebrate the “Sunday of the Divine Mercy”); the theme of the community (from which Tommaso had absent!); but above all the theme of faith! I will limit myself to dwelling on the figure of Thomas.

Thomas, our twin

His name means ‘double’ or ‘twin’. Thomas has a prominent place among the apostles; perhaps this is why the Acts and Gospel of Thomas, apocrypha of the 4th century, were attributed to him, “important for the study of Christian origins” (Benedict XVI, 27.9.2006).
We would like to know to whom Thomas is a twin. He could be Nathanael (Bartholomew). Indeed, this last profession of faith, made by Thomas, corresponds with the first one, 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 together in the list of the Twelve (see Matthew 10:3; Acts 1:13; and also John 21:2).
This unknown gives room to affirm that Thomas is “a twin of each of us” (Don Tonino Bello). Thomas comforts us in our doubts as believers. In him we mirror ourselves and, through his eyes and hands, we too “see” and “touch” the body of the Risen One. An interpretation that has its charm!…

Thomas, a “double”?

In the Bible, the most famous pair of twins is that of Esau and Jacob (Genesis 25: 24-28), eternal antagonists, an expression of the dichotomy and polarity of the human condition. Could it be that Thomas (the ‘double’!) carries within himself the antagonism of this duality? Capable, at times, of gestures of great generosity and courage, while at other times he is incredulous and stubborn. But when confronted with the Master, his profound identity as a believer who proclaims his faith with readiness and conviction again emerges.
Thomas carries his ‘twin’ inside. The apocryphal Gospel of Thomas emphasises this duplicity: “First you were one, but you have become two” (n°11); “Jesus said: When you will make two into one, then you will become the sons of Adam” (n°105). Thomas is the image of us all. We too carry within us such a ‘twin’, inflexible and staunch defender of his own ideas, obstinate and capricious in his attitudes.
These two realities or ‘creatures’ (the old and the new Adam) coexist badly, in contrast, sometimes in open warfare, in our hearts. Who has never experienced the suffering of this inner laceration?
Now, Thomas has the courage to face this reality. He allows his dark, adverse and unbelieving side to manifest itself, and brings it to face Jesus. He accepts the challenge thrown down by his ‘rebellious’ interiority that demands to see and touch… He takes 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!”
Unfortunately, this is not what happens with us. Our Christian communities are attended almost exclusively by ‘good twins’ and submissive, but also … passive and amorphous! The fact is that they are not there in their ‘entirety’. The energetic, instinctive part, the part that would need to be evangelised, does not appear at the ‘encounter’ with Christ.
Jesus said that he was coming for sinners, but our churches are attended by the ‘righteous’ who … do not feel the need to convert! The one who should convert, the other twin, the “sinner”, we leave him quietly at home. It is Sunday, he takes the opportunity to “rest” and entrust the day to the “good twin”. On Monday, then, the twin of instincts and passions will be in full form to take over again.

Jesus in search of Thomas

Would that Jesus had many Thomas! In the Sunday celebration, it is especially of them that the Lord comes in search… They will be his “twins”! God seeks ‘real’ men and women, who relate to him as they are: sinners who ‘suffer’ in their own flesh the tyranny of instincts. Believers who are not ashamed to appear with this unbelieving, grace-resistant side. Who do not come to make a good impression in the “assembly of believers”, but to meet with the Doctor of Divine Mercy and be healed. It is of these that Jesus becomes a brother!
The world needs the testimony of honest believers who are able to recognise their errors, doubts and difficulties and who do not hide their ‘duplicity’ behind a façade of Pharisaic ‘respectability’. The mission truly needs disciples who are authentic people and not “crooked-necked”!… Of missionaries who look straight at the reality of suffering and touch with their hands the wounds of the crucified of today!…

Thomas invites us to reconcile our duplicity to make Easter!
Word of Jesus, according to the … Gospel of Thomas (No. 22.27): “When you make two to be one, and you make the inside like the outside, and the outside like the inside, and the top like the bottom, and when you make male and female one (…) then you will enter the Kingdom!”

For the weekly reflection, I recommend the continued reading of the First Letter of John.

P. Manuel João Pereira Correia mccj
Verona, April 2024

GOSPEL REFLECTION
John 20:19-31

Today’s passage is divided into two parts corresponding to the appearances of the Risen One. In the first (vv. 19-23), Jesus communicates his Spirit to his disciples. With that, he gives them the power to overcome the forces of evil. It is the same passage that we will find and will comment on at Pentecost. In the second (vv. 24-31), the famous episode of Thomas is told.

The doubt of this apostle became proverbial. It is often said when one shows some distrust “You’re unbelieving as Thomas.” Yet, in hindsight, he seems to have done nothing wrong: he only asked to see what others had seen. Why demand only from him a faith based on the word?

But was Thomas really the only one to have doubts, while the other disciples would have easily and immediately believed in the Risen One? It does not seem that things went that way.

The Gospel of Mark says that “Jesus appeared to the eleven and rebuked them for their unbelief and hardness of heart because they had not believed those who had seen him risen” (Mk 16:14). In Luke’s Gospel, the Risen Christ addresses the amazed and frightened apostles and asks: “Why are you troubled, and why do doubts arise in your hearts?” (Lk 24:38). In the last page of the Gospel of Matthew it even says that when Jesus appeared to the disciples on a mountain in Galilee (therefore long after the apparitions in Jerusalem), some still doubted (Mt 28:17).

All, therefore, doubted, not only the poor Thomas. How is it then that the evangelist John seems to want to focus on him the doubts that have gripped the others? Let us try to understand.

When John writes (about the year 95 A.C) Thomas was already dead for some time. The episode, therefore, is certainly reported not to put this apostle in a bad light. If his problems of faith were highlighted, the reason is another. The evangelist wants to respond to the questions and objections that Christians of his communities insistently raised. It is the third generation Christians, people who have not seen the Lord Jesus. Many of them do not even know any of the apostles. They find it hard to believe; they are struggling in the midst of many doubts; they would like to see, touch, and verify if the Lord is truly risen. They wonder: what are the reasons that may lead one to believe? Is it still possible for us to have the experience of the Risen Lord? Are there evidences that he is alive? How is it that he no longer appears? These are the questions that we ourselves ask today.

To them, Mark, Luke, and Matthew respond by saying that all the apostles had hesitations. They did not get it right away nor with ease believed in the Risen One. The path of faith was long and tiring also for them, even though Jesus had given many signs that he was alive and had entered into the glory of the Father.

The answer of John is different: he takes Thomas as a symbol of the difficulty that every disciple meets to come to believe. It is hard to know the reason why he chose this apostle. Perhaps because he had more difficulty or took more time than others to have faith.

That which John wants to teach the Christians of his communities (and us) is that the Risen One has a life that escapes our senses; a life that cannot be touched with bare hands or seen with the eyes. It can only be achieved through faith. This also applies to the apostles, who have had a unique experience of the Risen Lord.

One cannot have faith in what is seen. You cannot have demonstrations, pieces of scientific evidence of the resurrection. If anyone wants to see, observe, touch, one must renounce his faith.

We do not say, “Blessed are those who have seen.” For Jesus, however, blessed are those who have not seen, not because it costs them more to believe and thus have greater merits. They are blessed because their faith is the most genuine and the purest. Indeed, it is the only pure faith. While the one who sees has the certainty of the evidence and has irrefutable proof of a fact.

Thomas appears two more times in John’s Gospel and never cuts—we would say—a good figure. He always has difficulty in understanding, equivocating, misinterpreting the words and choices of the Master.

He speaks for the first time when he received the news of Lazarus’ death. Jesus decides to go to Judea. Thomas thinks that following the Master means losing one’s life. He does not understand that Jesus is the Lord of life. Dejected and disappointed, he exclaims: “Let us also go, to die with him” (Jn 11:16).

During the last supper, Jesus talks about the path he is treading, a path that passes through death to be introduced into life. Thomas intervenes again: “Lord, we do not know where you’re going and how can we know the way?” (Jn 14:5). He is full of perplexity, hesitation, and doubt, unable to accept what he does not understand. This is demonstrated for a third time in the episode narrated in today’s passage.

It seems that John enjoys outlining in this way the figure of Thomas. In the end, he does him justice. He puts on his lips the highest, the most sublime profession of faith. His words reflect the conclusion of the disciples’ itinerary of faith.

At the beginning of the Gospel, the first two apostles come to Jesus calling him Rabbi (Jn 1:38). It’s the first step towards the understanding of the Master’s identity. After a short time, Andrew, who has already figured out a lot more, says to his brother Simon: “We have found the Messiah” (Jn 1:41). Nathaniel intuits immediately with whom he deals and says to Jesus: “You are the Son of God” (Jn 1:49). The Samaritans recognize him as the Savior of the world (Jn 4:43), the people acknowledge him as the prophet (Jn 6:14), the man born blind proclaims him the Lord (Jn 9:38), for Pilate he is the King of the Jews (Jn 19:19). But it’s Thomas who says the last word about the identity of Jesus. He calls him: “My Lord and my God” (v.28). It is an expression that the Bible refers to YHWH (Ps 35:23). Thomas is, therefore, the first to recognize the divinity of Christ, the first who comes to understand what Jesus meant when he said: ‘I and the Father are One” (Jan 10:30).

The end of the passage (vv. 30-31) presents the reason why John wrote his book. He spoke of the “signs”—not all, but sufficient ones—for two reasons: to arouse or confirm the faith in Christ and why, through this faith, one comes to life.

The fourth evangelist calls miracles signs. Jesus did not perform them ​​to impress whoever was there. He even had words of condemnation against anyone who did not believe unless he saw miracles (Jn 4:48). John does not tell them to impress his readers, to “show” the divine power of Jesus.

The signs are not evidences, but revelations about the person, nature, and mission of Jesus. One who comes to believe in a robust and long-lasting way, from the material fact, rises to the reality that it indicates. It does not include the sign which, in the distribution of the loaves, does not capture that Jesus is the bread of life, or in the healing of the man born blind, does not recognize that Jesus is the light of the world, or in the resuscitation of Lazarus, does not see in Jesus the Lord of life.

In the epilogue of the Gospel, John uses the word signs in a broad sense: it means all the revelation of the person of Jesus, his acts of mercy (the healing, the multiplication of the loaves) and his words (Jn 12:37). Whoever reads his book and understands these signs clearly confronts the person of Jesus and is invited to make a choice. Whoever recognizes in him the Lord will opt for life and adhere to him.

Here is the only evidence that is offered to one who looks for reasons to believe: the same Gospel. There the Word of Christ resounds, and his person shines. There are no other proofs outside this same Word.

To understand, it is worthwhile to refer to what Jesus said in the parable of the Good Shepherd: “My sheep recognize my voice” (Jn 10:4-5, 27). Apparitions are not necessary. In the Gospel, the voice of the shepherd resonates. For the sheep that belong to him, his unmistakable voice is enough to recognize and to draw it to him.

But where can one listen to this voice? Where does this word echo? Is it possible to repeat today the apostles’ experience on Easter day and “eight days later” (v.26)? How?

We definitely have noticed that both apparitions take place on a Sunday. We also have noticed that those who make the experience of the Risen One are the same (… one more, one less), that the Lord presents himself with the same words: “Peace be with you” (v.21) and that, in both encounters, Jesus shows the marks of his passion. There would be other details, but these four are enough to help us answer the questions we posed.

The disciples are gathered in the house. The meeting to which John alludes is clearly that which happens on the day of the Lord. It’s the one in which every eighth day, the whole community is called for the celebration of the Eucharist. When all believers are gathered together, there appears the Risen One. He, by the mouth of the celebrant, greets the disciples and wishes, as on the evening of Easter, and eight days later: “Peace be with you” (v. 26).

It is the time when Jesus manifests himself alive to the disciples. The one who deserts the meetings of the community like Thomas, cannot have the experience of the Risen Lord (vv. 24-25). He cannot hear his greeting and his word; he cannot accept his forgiveness and his peace (vv. 19,26,23), nor experience his

his greeting and his word; he cannot accept his forgiveness and his peace (vv. 19,26,23), nor experience his joy (v. 20) and receive his Spirit (v. 22). Whoever, on the day of the Lord stays home, maybe to pray alone, can experience God, but not the Risen One, because he makes himself present where the community is gathered.

What does one, who does not meet the Risen One, do? Like Thomas, he will have a need for evidences in order to believe, but he will never obtain them.

Contrary to what one sees depicted in the paintings of the artists, not even Thomas has put his hands into the wounds of the Lord. From the text, it does not appear that he has touched the Risen One. He also gets to pronounce his profession of faith after hearing the voice of the Risen One, along with his brothers and sisters of the community. And the ability to make this experience is offered to Christians of all times, every eight days.

Fernando Armellini
Italian missionary and biblical scholar
https://sundaycommentaries.wordpress.com

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.
Pope Francis