Homily for the Second Sunday of Easter

This Sunday in the Octave of Easter is designated as Divine Mercy Sunday, bringing to our attention the perfection of God’s mercy as revealed to Saint Faustina Kowalska for the good of all mankind.

Yet we have the Gospel story of Saint Thomas, which, at first glance, seems less about God’s mercy and forgiveness, and more about Thomas questioning his confrêres.

There is, however, a touching scene of reunion between Thomas and the Lord in which Jesus invites Thomas to touch His wounds, even though He had asked Mary Magdalene not to do so. And then, Thomas makes the greatest statement of faith in Christ to be written in the entire New Testament: “My Lord and my God!” Imagine the other Apostles witnessing this.

Saint Thomas seems a sturdy individualist, unimpressed by the others’ claim: he wanted to see things and come to know them for himself. His, however, was not the frivolous skepticism of indifference, or hostility to truth, as seen so frequently in our day. He wanted first-hand knowledge and experience to be the basis for his faith.

His questioning arose, it seems, from his despondency and sorrow, as well as from the effect of his isolation from the others. Here he makes the mistake that so many skeptics make: When we have doubts or questions about our faith, we shouldn’t move away from the Church, but, instead, seek the community of Faith where God abides. It is here that we will find that our relationship with Christ can surpass even our search for certitude in theology.

The Evangelist doesn’t tell us where Saint Thomas was when he missed the Lord’s first appearance in the Upper Room, nor why he had absented himself. Whatever his momentary need was, look at how he endangered his faith and his sense of belonging to Christ and His Apostles by doing so. His skepticism could have led him away from the truth of the Resurrection, had he not returned to his confrères, and could have led him, further, to cynicism, that destroyer of faith.

What is the difference between skepticism and cynicism? Put in simplest terms:
- the skeptic searches for the truth in all things… hoping he will find it
- the cynic thinks that there is no truth (except, maybe, his own.)

Thomas thought he was doing the right thing in demanding full evidence in sensible proof, but what would become of future generations if the same evidence were to be demanded by them… that is… by us?

By saying, “Blessed are those who have not seen, and yet believed…” the Lord is implying that future believers will have to accept the truth of the Resurrection from the witness of the Apostles, and the proclamation of the Church. Woe, then, not to the questioners, the seekers in faith, but to the cynics, who forbid themselves the grace of this witness and proclamation, this source of hope and peace.

Here in this scene in the Upper Room is found Divine Mercy: Thomas’s questioning was not in itself sinful, yet Christ, in His mercy, leads Thomas in a way unique to Thomas, that meets his personal and immediate needs for the fullness of his faith. No stern rebuke here, no “Get thee behind me,” but instead, “Come, touch me.”

As Thomas touches the Lord’s nail-prints, the Lord touches Thomas’s own woundedness, and faith leaps forward in that divinely inspired acclamation: “My Lord and my God…” the first and only time in the the New Testament that Jesus is addressed as God.

Even in His risen, glorified body, Jesus bears the wounds of His Crucifixion - they would be eternally present - which suggests that our own bodyliness, even in our glorified bodies in Heaven, will retain something of human imperfection. Though the dignity of the human person be perfected, our perfection will not equal or even approach the perfection of God, yet He will allow us to gaze upon His perfection in the eternal Beatific Vision, such is His love and Divine Mercy.

In the ministry of the Apostles conferred previously in the Upper Room, God made His mercy approachable. Mere human words: “Te absolvo,” would become the means by which people would experience Divine Mercy, and the Peace extended to the Apostles after the Resurrection would be extended to the entire Church in the sacrament of Reconciliation.

So now we understand that, at the end of Confession, when the Priest says, “Go in Peace,” it’s not just a friendly farewell, it’s an acknowledgement that the Lord’s mercy and forgiveness form the ultimate basis for human peace.

Today, in this Octave of Easter, this remembrance of Divine Mercy, we learn from the interchange between the Lord and Saint Thomas, that it is important for us to frequent this Upper Room, as it were, to stand together in faith, despite any doubt or questioning, and bask in the Lord’s mercy as He calls us all to Sainthood.

Saint John Paul the Great founded this Feast of Divine Mercy recognizing the mercy of God in his own life. He could see the Thomas-like woundedness of humanity, and, not content to remain in the “Upper Room” of the Vatican Palace, he traveled the globe to touch that woundedness, to bring the healing power of Divine Mercy to the world’s suffering people. He taught us all that no matter what our life circumstances, we should “Be not afraid…” to let Christ into our lives, and to take Christ to the world.

And so, on this Feast Day, if we, in our sinfulness, weakness or woundedness, harbor some doubt about God’s mercy and forgiveness…

… we might pray with Saint Faustina,
“Jesus, I trust in you…”

… or with Saint Thomas,
“My Lord and my God…”

… so that we might find strength and hope in the Lord’s own words:
“Blessed are they who have not seen, and yet believed.”