A homily for Thomas Sunday
Christ is risen!
When I was in college, I remember seeing bumper stickers throughout our small town that said, “Pray for Will!” I learned from my pastor that he was a child struggling with lymphoma; consequently, the whole community prayed for him. In the end, however, he died from the cancer, which left some people struggling with doubt.
Doubt is part of life in this fallen world. God never promises us a path paved with absolute confidence and certainty, and I am not sure even the saints possessed certainty 100% of the time. The difficulties of life bring about doubts, and these doubts can manifest in countless directions.
They may be intellectual doubts, occurring when a rational argument seems to undermine what we thought we knew. They may come from scandal—when we see someone we respect fall into sin or slip into spiritual apathy. Or they may be the most crushing kind: the dark, sorrowful doubt that arises from suffering: How can a good God allow the innocent to suffer cruelty, or children to die in the arms of their parents?
These kinds of questions have been posed to saints, both ancient and modern. None of them tried to provide a rational, systematic explanation. Instead, they “weep with those who weep” (Rom. 12:15); they guide the storm-tossed and comfort the brokenhearted. Therefore, I will not attempt to go beyond the saints. Even our risen Lord, when confronting St. Thomas, did not lay out logical proofs of His resurrection or explain the spiritual or biological processes He underwent. Instead, our Lord said, “Come, touch me.”
It is normal to want “bullet points” and neat conclusions that resolve all ambiguity. We desire proof; we yearn for God to simply show Himself in a way that relieves us of our questioning. During this moment in St. Thomas’s life, he was wrestling with various things:
-
The failure of expectation—the Messiah was supposed to be a mighty, immortal king who would provide political freedom. Yet Jesus came in love and gentleness, willing to suffer rather than fight back.
-
The fear of persecution—the Gospels tell us that the Apostles were hiding themselves for fear of being next, as their leader had just been crucified.
-
The rumor that Jesus had risen from the dead—if this were true, it would change everything. As Jaroslav Pelikan noted, “If Christ is risen, nothing else matters. And if Christ is not risen—nothing else matters.” Reality itself changes if “death can no longer hold man captive.” If this is true, then Thomas would need to be willing to lay down his own life for the earth-shattering event of the crucified and resurrected Messiah. But to do so, he needed to have his doubts dispelled.
So, what happens next? Christ condescends to Thomas, allowing him to touch His hands and His side. But make no mistake: that is not the primary reason Thomas believed. Physical evidence alone is never sufficient for full belief. The opportunity bestowed upon Thomas—the ability to touch the wounds of Christ—was a gift given so that he could speak: “Thou art my Lord and my God.”
What, then, allowed him to make such a profound confession of our Lord’s deity? In short, it was the uncreated divine grace of God working within his heart. After all, anyone can see and touch, yet not believe. We need look no further than the Sadducees and Pharisees in Scripture, who became irate when Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead. When that occurred, they did not say, “We have seen the truth! How can we not believe?” Instead, they plotted to kill both Jesus and Lazarus. Seeing alone is not believing; grace must accompany our sight. To receive grace, we must work on our hearts to make them receptive to the Holy Spirit. Such is the beginning of a gradual surrender to grace through faith.
Faith is not the accumulation of right answers and unbeatable arguments; instead, it is a living, active trust in God. We trust Him, first, by allowing God to be God. That means we accept whatever He allows in this world and our lives. We may not understand or like it, but we trust that He is good and will have the final word in the End. Secondly, we activate a living faith within us by obeying Christ. In some of His final words to the Apostles, He said:
“He who has My commandments and keeps them, it is he who loves Me. And he who loves Me will be loved by My Father, and I will love him and manifest Myself to him” (Jn. 14:21).
He will “manifest” Himself to us. This sounds much like what He told Thomas: “Come, touch me.”
Thomas had to do his part; he had to remain honest with himself and others, and he had to maintain fellowship with the other Apostles. He did not retreat into a corner to sulk because Christ did not appear to him. He possessed a heart both ready to believe and obedient to God. Such a state of readiness brought God’s grace into his doubting heart and made it possible for him to believe when Christ manifested Himself to him.
On a practical level, this is a calling to do the things you often hear me teach: read the Scriptures daily, obey the commandments of the Gospel, pray daily, and let God be God. By doing so, we become like Thomas; we may occasionally struggle with doubt, but we are positioning ourselves in a place of receptivity—a place in which God’s grace can begin its work within us.
Then, in ways that we cannot quite explain rationally, God will allow us to touch Him: in the Body and Blood of the Eucharist, the consolation of a loved one, the edification of Scripture or the writings of the saints, or even the majestic beauty of nature. There are numerous ways in which God whispers, “Come, touch me.” But for that moment to be one of transformation, we must ready ourselves to become His vessels of grace and faith.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Christ is risen!