In the world of St. Thomas at the time of our Lord’s resurrection, we see an Apostle who is both uncertain and one who seems to feel left out. No one wants to be left out of an important occasion, especially when you’re one of the central actors in the play. And Jesus’ resurrection qualifies for an important occasion.
Imagine a father not being present for the wedding of his only daughter, where she walks down the aisle of the Church all by herself? And the father shortly after comes to discover that the wedding went off without his presence. Thomas was that father the night Jesus appeared in the Upper Room.
The words of Thomas that I believe didn’t make it into this Gospel resurrection story was him saying to the others, “If Jesus was really here, why couldn’t you guys keep him here until I returned from the market buying your food because you were too afraid to go outdoors? Why didn’t you guys tie Jesus down? Because you didn’t do me that great favor as I was out there risking life and limb for you, I’m not going to believe you, unless … I put my finger into his nailmarks, and my hand into his side.”
When Thomas spoke those words to his friends whom he thought were lying to him, do you ever get the sense that his placing his finger into Jesus’ crucified hand, and his hand into Jesus’ side that was sliced with a spear, that Thomas was not only unbelieving, but also ridiculing his friends? That his words to his friends about touching the wounds of Jesus were sarcastic and condescending toward them?
With Thomas, we normally stop at his unbelieving, and how in this moment of Jesus’ first appearance he perfected that vice. But there’s a strong hint of sarcasm in his words; a hint of not only not believing them, but ridiculing the fairy tale imagination of his Apostolic friends. A strong whiff of condescension.
The reaction of St. Thomas goes directly against the first Christian principle of what it means to be Church for us to this day; that being oneness and unity. Not worldly oneness, to some club or political party. But oneness in Christ. I can be one with the entire Red Sox Nation in my belief that we’re going to win the World Series this year. That sort of oneness is nice; it makes for good conversation to pass some moments in our lives. But oneness in the Church is centered in the Eucharist, which is a bit more lasting than a baseball team.
We see the perfection of the Church’s oneness in the Acts of the Apostles today; “They were of one heart and one mind.” The clutter of the world had not yet penetrated their Christian community. This is the gold standard of oneness that Christ desires and commands. Where brothers care for sisters, adults for children, where basic needs are cared for all in the community, and not for the lesser reason that it’s simply the right thing to do. But for the greater reason that such care imitates how God has cared for us. All caring is grounded in religion first, because it is of God.
And St. Thomas, who will later give his life for Christ, attacks the Church’s oneness by not believing that Jesus is raised from the dead as he promised them. But he also attacks the oneness of God’s Church by way of his condescending, arrogant words directed at his friends who are believable. Thomas at this point is not only captured by unbelief. Thomas is taking a teenage temper tantrum. His fingers into the nailmarks comment, and his hand into the side comment he considers to be beyond the world of possibility. It’s a beautiful thing when Jesus makes Thomas eat his own words. I wonder how he’s going to make me swallow some of mine; and you also.
The good part of St. Thomas’ life is that as we can criticize from the distance of time his reaction to Jesus’ first appearance without him being there, and take such criticism to the lowest possible place, except for where Judas went, we also get to emulate and raise St. Thomas to the highest possible place in heaven for his conversion, unlike Judas.
The scene in this Gospel connects to the highs and lows of our lives. There are times when believing that Christ is still in the tomb are upon us, and other times where we just know that he’s in the room. If Mother Teresa can have a dark night of the soul for decades one end, then I guess we can have it for a for a few short moments. And that’s all it is for Thomas; a few short moments, just one week.
As Jesus returns to them one week later, with one more Apostle present this time, we’re absent the sarcasm and condescending attitude of Thomas, which is replaced with “My Lord and my God.” What happens at the second appearance is the Divine Mercy of our Lord extending its powerful hand with nailmarks to a professed unbeliever. Our loving Savior will never throw our thoughts and comments back at us the same way we can throw words and actions at him, or at each other.
No arrogance from Christ; no sarcasm. Just words from our Savior for us where he means what he says; “Thomas, put your finger in my nailmark; put your hand in my side.” Were greater words of Divine Mercy ever spoken? Those words of Jesus to Thomas are the best words of absolution I’ve ever heard. “Put your finger in my nailmark; your hand in my side. If you do, Thomas, your sin of unbelief is forgiven.”
These words of Divine Mercy reunite the group of Apostles as one. Our Lord returns all of them to their starting point of oneness. Among other things, unity is what Divine Mercy brings about. It makes us one with the Church, and one with each other.