Thomas . . .Doubting or Deepening His Faith?



Hendrick ter Brugghen - The Incredulity of Saint Thomas

This Sunday the Gospel reading is from John 20:19-34, the story of Thomas who seemed to be missing at the first appearance of Jesus in the upper room. Thomas is known as “Doubting Thomas” but it is also stated that he is called the Twin.  I wondered if he had a twin sister like me. Some commentaries I have read over the years have said that possibly he was called “twin” because he was similar in looks to Jesus.  Other reflections stated that WE are the TWIN!  We, like Thomas, have times in which we ask for a sign, need more evidence before we believe something, or walk around with doubts – Jesus was so attentive to the way in which Thomas needed to move into a deepening of his faith.  “Then he focused his attention on Thomas.  ‘Take your finger and examine my hands.  Take your hand and put it in my side. Don’t be unbelieving.  Believe.'”

As I pondered in my prayer today – I wondered -  what if Jesus were standing in front of me and he tenderly and compassionately desired to place his fingers in my wounds?  Where are those unseen, secret and sacred places within me that only God knows that are awaiting a healing touch?  What wounding am I aware of in myself that are the sorrowful mysteries of my own life? How would I come to forgiveness of myself, of others, and of creation?  How would I come to a deepening of my own faith, love, and hope?

Where do we need to invite Jesus to touch the wounds of humanity? Let us together ask Jesus to touch with healing, mercy, and peace those areas where there are conflicts, abuse, hunger, poverty, injustice, suffering for those who are marginalized in our governments, church, or systems?   I know there is a litany with much more that I could name.

So let us pray: Holy Darkness, God of Mystery that creates in and through us, help us not to resist the darkness. Help us to trust in you precisely in those moments when we are confused or uncertain or do not understand.  Heal us of our trepidation in the face of the unknown, and help us to yield to the creative process that at this very moment is at work in the inner darkness, in the unseen, secret places that only you know.  Like dark energy, may your Spirit expand my being so that I become more of who you desire me to be – free, capable of loving and being loved.  Amen.

(From Radical Amazement by Judy Cannato)

 

The Incredulity of Saint Thomas (Caravaggio)

 

Resurrection . . . Absence and Presence . . .

“The resurrection stories reveal the always-present tension between coming and leaving, intimacy and distance, holding and letting go, at-homeness and mission, presence and absence.  We face these tensions every day.”
 (Henry Nouwen)

“Where have they taken him? Your story of the empty grave was dismissed as rambling – distraught woman – nonsense.  But you returned to the empty space and stayed there – unable to leave the ground made precious by the brush of his skin.  It was there, in that deep and empty space, that he whispered your name, Mary, leaping you into another world – hurtling you from reality into the Realm of God – spinning in a miracle, love saturated, as Jesus, Son of God all risen up, breathed your name – claiming you as treasured and chosen."

From: “Soul Sisters” by Edwina Gateley

 

Eastering again and again . . .

Servant Girl at Emmaus
by Vela'zquez

 The Servant Girl at Emmaus
 (A Painting by Velázquez)

She listens, listens, holding
 her breath. Surely that voice
 is his—the one
 who had looked at her, once, across the crowd,
 as no one ever had looked?
 Had seen her? Had spoken as if to her?

Surely those hands were his,
 taking the platter of bread from hers just now?
 Hands he'd laid on the dying and made them well?

Surely that face—?

The man they'd crucified for sedition and blasphemy.
 The man whose body disappeared from its tomb.
 The man it was rumored now some women had seen this morning, alive?

Those who had brought this stranger home to their table
 don't recognize yet with whom they sit.
 But she in the kitchen, absently touching
            the winejug she's to take in,
 a young Black servant intently listening,

swings round and sees
 the light around him
 and is sure.

Denise Levertov (1923–1997)

Easter ~ The Season of Mystery and Marvels . . .

When dawn stands still with wonder, when birds jubilate in the trees, when buds hurry into blossoms and grass starts wearing green – I always know that Easter wants to come again.

But deeper yet and richer still when Jesus, imprisoned in me, asks me to roll away the stone that locks him in, then Easter wants to come again.

So, let it come. It’s one dawn past rising time and Resurrection is the wildest news that’s ever touched this crazy mixed-up world. It says, yes! When everything else says, no! It says, up! When everything else says, down! It says, live! When everything else says, die!

Easter’s standing at your door again, so don’t you see that stone has got to go? That stone of fear, of selfishness and pride, of greed and blindness and all the other stones we use to keep Jesus in the tomb.

So here’s to rolling stones away, to give our Lord the chance He needs to rise and touch a troubled, lonely world.

Some call it Resurrection. It’s wild with wonder. It’s beautiful and real, intent on throwing life around – it touches and it heals!

Yes, Easter, you can come – an angel of life I’ll be.  I’ll roll the stone away and set you free.

(From Seasons of Your Heart by Macrina Wiederkehr)

Holy Saturday ~ It was a day of rest . . .

Image by Michael O'Brien
Jesus is Laid in the Tomb

In John O’Donohue’s book,
Anam Cara,
he writes about death.

“Death is a lonely visitor.
After it visits your home,
nothing is ever the same again.
There is an empty place at the table;
there is an absence in the house.

Having someone close to you die
is an incredibly strange and desolate experience.
Something breaks within you then
that will never come together again.

Gone is the person whom you loved,
whose face and hands and body
you knew so well.
This body, for the first time,
is completely empty.

This is very frightening and strange.
After the death many questions
come into your mind concerning
where the person has gone,
what they see and feel now.
The death of a loved one is bitterly lonely.

When you really love someone,
you would be willing to die in their place.
Yet no one can take another’s place
when that time comes.
Each one of us has to go alone.

It is so strange that when someone dies,
they literally disappear.
Human experience includes
all kinds of continuity and discontinuity,
closeness and distance.

In death, experience reaches
the ultimate frontier.
The deceased literally
falls out of the visible world of form and presence.

At birth you appear out of nowhere,
at death you disappear to nowhere. . . .

The terrible moment of loneliness in grief
comes when you realize that
you will never see the deceased again.”

John O’Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom, (New York, HarperCollins, 1997) p.207

Crucifixion . . .the Crossbeamed Christ!

Image by Michael O'Brien

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Kf0mt25fTc



 Crucifixion

Stripped of godliness,
hands hammered open,,
arms yanked wide,
the crossbeamed Christ
pours himself out
till rivers run red with
wine enough to satisfy
century-cries of thirst.

Irene Zimmerman, OSF
Woman Un-Bent

The Beginning of "March Madness" . . .

Painting by Caravaggio: Taking of Christ

And It Was Night . . .

You stumble unseeing from the upper room
and no number of lanterns and torches can dim
your darkness now, Judas. When did you let
the light go out? When did you begin
to guard the hoard and spend starry evenings
behind drawn tent flaps, running the coins
through acquisitive fingers while the company sat
in a circle outside, breaking bread
and talking of light in the crackling campfire?

When did you fine-tune your ears to the clink
of copper and silver and gold, letting
the words of the Master fade out unheeded?
When did you start to begrudge begging hands
and when did you welcome disciples more
for the treasures they gave than the treasures they were?

Now, in the dark of Gethsemane’s garden,
you touch greedy lips to the Master’s cheek –
a cheap giveaway to your cohorts of night.

Irene Zimmerman, OSF
Woman Un-Bent

Painting by Mattias Stom: Christ before Caiaphas



Painting by Antonio Ciseri: Jesus Christ on Trial