Take this sanctuary, for example. This church was built in 1960 – in fact, it was dedicated this very day, fifty nine years ago. And from that day until today, thousands of people have experienced something special in this space: a homily preached that made an impact on the life of a young person; a insight in prayer that brought clarity and perspective; a moment of refuge from the turbulence of the world outside. Untold numbers have received the sacraments here – the healing waters of baptism, the joyful graces of confirmation and marriage, the Holy Eucharist. The spiritual legacy of our church extends far beyond the confines of these four walls.
In the Gospel today, we hear about the very first church sanctuary: the Upper Room. As a physical space, it was probably fairly unremarkable, a room in the southwest part of Jerusalem’s Old City that was probably a meeting space or guesthouse in the first century. But for the apostles and other disciples, and for Christians ever since, it is a place imbued with spiritual significance because of the events that happened there. It is where Jesus washed the feet of his disciples on Holy Thursday. It is where he ate the Last Supper with his friends, giving them the Eucharist as the way of remaining connected to what he would do on Calvary. It is the place where the disciples, gathered together after Jesus’s Ascension, received the power of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. But arguably the most poignant events that happened in the Upper Room are what we hear about in today’s reading: the encounters of the Risen Lord with the disciples.
Jesus Appears to the Disciples (2009) by Imre Morocz
It is hard to underestimate the tension at the start of this Gospel. The disciples are hiding out behind locked doors, afraid that they too will be found and put to death as their Master had been. They are likely on edge because they have heard from Mary Magdalene and others that Jesus has been raised, but they don’t know what to make of those reports. If he has been raised, is he coming for them, to condemn and punish? After all, the last time they saw him, he was being arrested and they had fled in fear. Into this locked room, the Risen Jesus enters, not with condemnation but with words of mercy and forgiveness: “Peace be with you,” he says. He shows them the wounds of his Passion, the marks of his very real, very painful death, healed now and surpassed by the loving power of God.
Today is the Second Sunday of Easter, Divine Mercy Sunday, and a recapitulation of all that we have been celebrating since Easter morning. Jesus’s Resurrection is God’s crowning achievement – it is the pinnacle of his work of reconciliation between us and him, the means by which he heals us of sin and offers us the opportunity to eternal life. God’s infinite mercy was made real and personal for those disciples gathered in the Upper Room. And they were changed by it; that experience affected them – it stayed with them. Not only were they forgiven but they in turn were made ministers of mercy, entrusted with this godly power to forgive sins themselves. Having received mercy, they were sent to offer it as well. It is through that apostolic ministry that you and I receive also the grace of the Risen Jesus: God’s mercy made present and personal for us in the sacrament of reconciliation, where he reminds us that there is no sin too great for him to forgive.
But not every kind of brokenness is so easily healed. Today’s Gospel also presents us with the figure of the apostle Thomas, a person for whom healing and forgiveness is not so easily accepted. There is much about Thomas that is easy perhaps for us to relate to. He is clearly hurt. The suffering and death of Jesus was shocking for him – a scandal. Thomas must have trusted in Jesus deeply, and we can see just how deeply from his unwillingness to believe the claim that Jesus been raised from the dead. Having trusted so deeply, and with that trust seemingly broken, Thomas resists trusting again. He demands assurance.
How easy it is to relate to this mentality, especially in these days! Our trust in the Lord and in his Church is tested in seemingly endless ways. It can be tested through painful personal situations, when God seems to be absent or not listening to us. Our trust might be tested when the pastor makes an unpopular decision or when the bishop does something we disagree with. Our trust might be tested when the church hierarchy or even the pope himself chooses priorities that are different than the ones we think are most important. Certainly, there is a great test for all of us in the current crisis of abuse and of the scandalous uses of power and authority in our Church, when trust has been not just lost but betrayed. In these situations, or others like them, aren’t we sometimes a bit like Thomas, unwilling to trust again without assurances?
Guercino, The Incredulity of Saint Thomas (1621)
Thomas received a pretty awesome assurance: he encountered the Risen Christ. He got to see with his own eyes and touch with his own hands the Body of the Lord that had been crucified, had died, but is alive again. Believe it or not, though, that same assurance is offered to us, just in a different form. Thomas encountered the Risen Christ in his physical Body; we encounter him in his ecclesial Body, in the Church, which is no less of a real encounter with him. We do not behold Jesus physically before us, but we feel his presence in prayer and we see his love and his Spirit active in the midst of the believing community. We may not be reconciled to him face to face, but we are reconciled in no less real of way every time we confess our sins and receive his sacramental forgiveness. We may not put our hands in the side of the Risen Lord, but we do truly hold out our hands receive him in the Eucharist, where his Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity is Really Present, saying with Thomas, “My Lord and My God!”. As Jesus himself says, those who see the Risen Christ with eyes of faith are even more blessed than those who saw him with physical sight!
When our trust is tested, we may be tempted to not trust anymore, to hide behind locked doors of fear and unbelief. But the Lord is always faithful and worthy of trust. He comes to meet us, especially here within these walls, unremarkable perhaps in themselves, but truly marvelous because of we encounter him here. Here we encounter the Lord’s healing presence; here we are made worthy to receive his grace. When we invest ourselves in the visible Church, when we are active and participating in the sacramental life of our parish – despite the challenges of doubt, despite the temptations to turn away – then we are like Thomas: touching the Risen Lord, tangibly in communion with his Body present on earth, the Church. That Body might bear at times the marks of wounds, inflicted by the sins and failings of her members, but it is always alive with the Lord’s Divine Presence. Let’s be frank – a given test may be very difficult. But every trial is also an opportunity to trust anew, to remember that faith is about believing even when we do not fully see.
Friends, when Bishop Fletcher and the community of St. Thomas Aquinas dedicated this building fifty nine years ago, they did so because they wanted to create a space where Christ can be encountered, an Upper Room right here on the campus of the University of Arkansas. And because they did, we are the beneficiaries of the spiritual legacy of this place; it is imbued with a spiritual significance that comes not from them, or us, but from the Risen Lord. He may not always appear in the way we desire, but that doesn’t mean that he isn’t Risen or that he isn’t present among us. If we are not locked in upon ourselves in the false securities of fear and unbelief, then we will meet him here, in his Church, despite its human flaws and failings. Like Thomas, let us see the reality of his presence here among us, not with physical sight but with eyes of faith. Like him, we can come to believe as firmly as he did – that the Risen Lord is worthy of our trust, that he really does know what he is doing, and that he can take even the most troubling situation – like the rift of broken friendships, like faith tested even by death – and transform it into an opportunity of grace, of blessing.
With continued Easter joy, may our celebration of this Eucharist give assurance to each of us of the Lord's personal love and presence.
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